I'll shut up about this sometime, I promise. I can't talk to husband about it, so I guess you guys get blessed with it. My friend and Occupational Therapist (OT) says it's normal to process it all. I feel pretty freakish about it sometimes. Anyway, at PT today, my therapist was asking questions about the ER on the day of the accident. He was surprised it took 2+ hours to get me into surgery. I don't know why it took so long other than I was told pretty much upon arrival that I would lose my foot, so I assumed there wasn't a rush to do that without making sure there weren't other more serious injuries. It wasn't until right before surgery that there was discussion on attempting to save the foot. ExBIL (me DEXs brother) is a professional fire fighter in the city. He's also a volunteer in the area where I live and crashed. He's chief on the volunteer dept, and captain on the paid dept. He's also an emt. He's well known at the hospital I was in, so pretty much had a free pass to come and go in the ER. I was beyond thankful when he showed up on the scene, and stayed until I was out of surgery. Because I was very coherent, I signed all of my releases, and they didn't go thru husband for much, if any, info. ExBIL largely acted as the go-between between me and the rest of the family. The docs gave occassional updates, but exBiL was there with me for the tough discussions and took them back to the waiting area. I remember the whole accident plain as day. I remember thoughts before it. I remember hitting the ground. I remember hitting my head, my wrist breaking. I remember thinking I HAD to stay awake for the kids. I remember accounting for the kids, and thanking God they were ok. I remember seeing myself, and realizing I wasn't ok, asking the oldest to tourniquet my ankle - the whole conversation. I dialed 911 and clearly described both my location and injuries in medication terms. I had the kids get blankets out of the buggy in anticipation of shock (tho on the scene, I never did get 'shocky'). I remember wondering just how bad it was, and wanting to ask, but also knowing no one would tell me the truth, so why bother. I remember exBIL getting downright mad because no one had base vitals when he got there. When the first volunteer first responder got there, I asked him to call easy child 1, who recently had graduated and is also a 'rookie' on the volunteer fire dept, and tell him not to respond to the patient in this call, but we could use his help getting the kids and horses home. When husband got there, I showed him how to use my phone. My supervisor's number wasn't in it, and he's awful with information, so I told him who to call that WAS in my phone that could get me 'called in sick' to work, and get fmla and disability started. I told him where my ins card was, and what numbers to call to get the approvals. I told him where the parents were for the kids we had with us, and their numbers in my phone. I even told him to be sure to tell his mom I wouldn't be cooking thanksgiving dinner. I never lost it on the scene. But at the hospital, every time exBIL came in...I would just lose it and bawl like a baby. Of course, exBIl would, too, which only made me worse. But with all the people...why exBIL? Talking to PT/Occupational Therapist (OT) today, I think I know why. ExBil is a take charge guy. If he doesn't know an answer, he'll find one. 'I don't know' isn't his style. He literally can make or do anything. I think i felt 'safe' with exBIL.' Safe enough to let go. When he showed up,'I didn't have to be the strong one anymore. I knew husband would have no clue...I couldn't leave him to handle things, and I even knew it subconsciously. But exBil? Heck yeah, he could handle it... We've laughed since the accident about our bawl-Fest. But tonight it's more sad than funny.... Kinda stings. My exBIL filled the void that one would think should have been my spouse. But my spouse, for whatever reason, can't or won't step up to that plate. I knew it then, just not in so many words. I don't know what is going to happen going forward...there's a lot to be fixed. If you read all this, thanks or sorry...whichever is more fitting.