That was my goal, to free him. So when he died, stunned–I jerked, which in turn toppled the stool. The front door was open and I fell onto my right side just inside the apartment. 

We live on the top floor of a walkup apartment. When I realized I was in trouble, I decided to “fix” the problem. I crawled 7 metres believing I could reach the dining room chair and pull myself upright. Halfway, I reached the small alcove bed and after two more hours, pulled the pillows and comforter to the floor. I knew if I didn’t warm up I’d likely get pneumonia. 

People have asked since then how I managed to cope. Truth is I didn’t manage. So many horrendous thoughts ran through my mind. I yelled at the top of my lungs, yet nobody heard me. I prayed, cried, begged. Talked to my dead parents. I tried to stay strong. I sang Rolling Stones’ songs, recited aloud all the blessings in my life. I later learned that two friends (at different times during the day) were on their way to see me, only to have their plans changed at the last moment. 

When Mary, the apartment manager found me at 7:30 in the evening, I cried like a little girl. She called 911 and summed friends. Soon, my little apartment filled with neighbours who each tried in their own way to comfort me. Luis’ eight year old little girl, patted my shoulder and told me I’d be okay. Luis’ mother rubbed my leg and reminded me that God was with me. Luis rushed about the apartment, gathering everything he thought I’d need in the hospital. Later, I found toothpaste and my toothbrush in my purse. 

Mary called my dear friend, Lulu (Lourdes), who went with me in the ambulance and stayed on the sofa beside my hospital bed until my husband finally found a flight from Canada two days later. 

It wasn’t until a dear lady from my La Cruz Writer’s group offered a rental house across from her place, rent free, that I realized there was no way I’d be able to climb the 54 steps to our apartment once I was released from the hospital. She is just one of the many wonderful people that stepped forward to help us during this difficult time. One friend lent us a walker, another did research for physiotherapy, another called their orthopaedic surgeon for a second opinion, and another drove us to the airport from Nayarit to Jalisco.  

I know accidents are never timely. But this happened when I was supposed to be finishing my current WIP, a manuscript I’ve been struggling with for several years. This happened when I should have been marketing a new ebook. 

My publisher put out a request, and a some terrific bloggers came to my rescue, which shouldn’t surprise me considering we belong to an awesome blogging community.


Still, I cry when I think about it. And I’m sad because I still haven’t visited their sites. 

Today is the first time I’ve been at the computer since the accident. Not just because it hurts to sit for too long, but because I’m depressed. I need to understand why this happened. And not just the accident, but the 8 hours while I waited for someone to find me. I need to replace the doubt that has taken over. Before the accident I was of the mindset that everything will always work out. Now I’m not so sure. 

My doctor says it’s the result of a concussion that has me feeling vulnerable and emotional. He says that though I may feel as if I’m standing still, I will recover, grow strong again, and in time understand the good that came from this. 

I hope he’s right. I like that other joylene better, the one who believes everything always works out. It’s what this blog has been about from the beginning. 

After 5 years of having our house on the market, someone is interested in buying our home. No, I have no idea how I’m going to manage packing up 25 years worth of stuff while using a walker.