The following story was written by Liz Lippa and shared as part of the Memory Project.
In a bizarrely freak accident in a car wash, my car ran over my left leg and stopped on top of my knee. The car was rolled off my leg, and I was taken to a trauma center for immediate attention. Miraculously, there were no bones broken, but I did sustain a monstrous wound that refused to heal, mainly because it had been mistreated for the first few weeks.
The doctors were so amazed that I did not break any bones that they ignored the wounds and inner tissue damage I had received in the accident. They sent me to a nursing home for “rehab” (physical therapy) for which I was far from ready, and my wounds were treated with a salve and inadequate pain medication.
Almost one month later, after numerous hospitalizations, surgery was preformed to deal with the deep wounds that were worsening and bleeding internally. One month later, the surgical sutures were removed and the wound had to be reopened. Inside my leg, the impurities were causing pressure and pain. The wound had previously been drained of two and a half pints of blood. Then it was stapled and stitched shut, and it started weeping and seeping, threatening to become an infection that could spread to other vital body systems.
The wound needed to be opened again and left open, receiving daily attention and being nursed carefully so it could heal slowly, from the inside out. The surface was healing well, leaving few scars, but the healing that was required was not on the surface. It was about a deep hurt, one that needed to be exposed and required time and attention and love and patience.
Some of our deep emotional wounds have been stapled shut, and we hoped they would somehow heal out of sight and mind. They would also seep occasionally, and we may weep, but we do not want to rip them open to let them heal from the inside out. Healing in full view is not a pretty sight, but may be necessary to endure at times to ensure that this contamination will not spread to everything in our lives.