I'm Here For A Reason

I’m Here for A Reason

October 6, 2010, the day I will never forget. The day my life changed forever. As my blood was squirting out of my left forearm, all I could see was my life slowly coming to an end.

The day started off no different than any other day. I didn’t have to go to work and neither did my, at the time boyfriend, Mike. We met in culinary school, and whom seemed to be a great person, I soon learned that I was sleeping with the enemy. Our relationship was far from perfect, as any other relationship, but the bad outweighed the good in the worse way. I was 21 at the time, he was 26, and neither one of us had any kids, so on our days off, it would consist of the usual. Smoking, drinking, and watching movies was our norm. Living life, not having a care in the world, minus the bills from having adult responsibilities.

We had just started dating, about a good 6 months together. Due to a bad situation that I was left in without any heads up, we had to get an apartment together fast. Money wasn’t really there, didn’t have much furniture, but we made it work. A few months in and that is when things started to change. I would go to school and people in my class could tell and see that something was bothering me. Of course, I spilled the beans about what was going on with me, I just wish I would have listened to them when they told me to be careful but I was too blind to see and too stubborn to listen.

I forget what led up to the argument that day but I remember being so mad that I flushed the rest of the marijuana down the toilet. We argued some more, until I excused myself from the apartment, so that it wouldn’t escalate to anything further. I wasn’t even gone a good 10 minutes before I returned but wasn’t able to get in because he had locked me out. I left out angry, so I didn’t think about grabbing my keys, even though that would not have made a difference because he had locked the dead bolt and I had no key for that. I was already upset and for him to lock me out, made me even angrier. So, I started to bang on the door repeatedly, while yelling at him, “Open the door”. This was midday and there were other vehicles in the apartment complex, but it seemed that everyone was at work or something because no one came outside to see what all the banging and yelling was about.

We lived on the first floor, so it was easy access to the patio and the back door. I had gotten so mad that he wouldn’t open the door, that I let my anger get the best of me. I began to throw rocks at the back patio door window and the dining room window. Yes, I know, that wasn’t right because that was not my property to be damaging like that, but I was young and dumb and a hot head at the time, I wasn’t thinking about the consequences. My reactions still didn’t make him open the door and again, with so much clatter going on outside, no one came out.

Words were still being exchanged between us, as we both knew that our relationship would be over. I didn’t realize that I was bleeding on my right thumb until after I had broken the window out in the dining room. The scar is still very visible today. I don’t remember how I ended up cutting myself on my thumb, I guess I was too angry and didn’t even notice or feel when it happened. I didn’t know how bad or deep the wound was, I just saw blood running down my thumb and I thought to call 911. I advised them of the argument me and Mike were in and that he wouldn’t let me in the house and that I was bleeding. From all of the information I provided, the dispatcher asked me if I needed the police or an ambulance. I responded with “an ambulance” and preceded to give my address. I know what you’re probably thinking right, “Why would I tell the dispatcher I needed an ambulance for a cut on my thumb, instead of the police, so that they could come out and access the situation that was going on with us?” I still ask that same question myself today, 10 years later.

Not even 15 minutes after I hung up with the dispatcher, I was calling 911 again, only this time, it was a life-or-death emergency situation. When I got off the phone, I jumped over the patio to try and get in to clean up my thumb. Since I had already broken the glass, there was an opening just big enough that I could reach my arm through to unlock the dead bolt. I was careful to not cut myself on the glass remaining around the seal of the window. As I was wiggling the dead bolt to try to unlock it, Mike grabbed my arm and slammed it down on top of a piece of glass that was sticking up from the bottom of the window seal. When he did that, blood went everywhere and fast.

Even though the ambulance from earlier was on the way, I called again because this was getting really bad for me. When Mike saw all of the blood, I yelled for him to open the door so I could get something to stop the bleeding. This time, he opened the door. I got a towel wrapped my arm up, at the same time yelling out, “I don’t want to die”. I went outside screaming for someone to help me but no one was there to my aid. Just in time, the fire truck and ambulance showed up to what they thought was a cut on the thumb, to me bleeding out from my arm.

The whole time, Mike was no help for me. He just watched and disappeared when the ambulance showed up. Our apartment was a complete mess, it really looked like a crime scene off of The First 48. I remember getting into the ambulance but not the ride. I remember going into the entrance of the hospital but not going through the hospital. I remember my body getting cold and me starting to lose consciousness and the doctor putting something under my nose that made me come back too.

I was able to go home almost 4 days later. I wasn’t able to move my fingers at the time but by the time I returned to get my stitches out toward the end of December, I was able to move them as well as start back working. I lost 4 pints of blood that day. A main artery and 4 nerves were damaged. But there’s one thing for certain that I didn’t lose, and that’s my life.

I’m here for a reason!

-D’Authentic Purpose-