On Halloween, nine months will have passed since Robb's accident. During all this, time has taken on an unreal quality for me. Parts of the day of the accident have been burned in my brain indelibly, while other details seem distant and hazy. I can recall far too much of the conversations that Robb and I overheard in the emergency room triage area. But I'm unclear on which members of our family I spoke to during the afternoon while Robb was being prepped for the neurosurgery.
I do recall asking people not to call me right away, because I knew that there were only so many times I could tell this story.
This, initially, is why I started the blog. I needed some space, and I couldn't bring myself to tell the story over and over again. I needed a way of communicating information without exposing my heart too much. Everything was too raw, I was terrified and on edge, and I needed a buffer.
And the funny thing is that over the months, the function of the blog has shifted. I actually find that the blog has become a way of keeping more closely in touch with everyone. Both Robb and I are happy to read the comments, and even more pleased to get phone calls from friends who check in on the blog and are inspired to contact us.
The process of sharing some of the details of Robb's recovery, and examining my feelings has been invaluable to me. I think that in some ways, the blog has brought a little clarity to this long, tedious, terrifying, and astonishing recovery.
When I wrote the first entry, I had no idea what would be happening in our lives the next day, much less in the following nine months. Thank you, everyone, for letting us share this experience.