It boggles my mind that a whole year has passed since I have written about my adventures, misadventures, musings, and escapades. I have jotted and journaled throughout the year, but I lost my commitment to blog about my experiences. In an effort to make up for the time lost and pay tribute to the unique adventures of 2016, I am compiling a SUPER BLOG POST! I have sections and everything. PART 1.1: Big Move to the Big IslandA series of amazing events led to my move to the Big Island of Hawaii. When I was first accepted to work for Pacific Quest Wilderness Therapy, I was ecstatic. Never had accepting a job felt so right. The work aligned with my values and the shift work allowed me flexibility for big adventures. I left California with bright and hopeful eyes. The first month on the Island was a whirlwind. Out of the 31 days of December, I was only at work for 9 days. I arrived On November 29th, hoping to ease my way onto the Island. I arrived in Kona with what I quickly realized was way too much luggage. My goal was to take public transport from Kona to Pahoa. Public transportation in Hawaii is a little whack, so I ended up wandering the streets of Kona with an absurdly large suitcase and a trekking backpack. My confused little soul kept looking online to make sense of where the bus stop was. I walked for a mile up the hilly streets until a woman, quite possibly an angel in disguise, asked if I needed a lift. She helped me find the right bus stop. (She dropped me off at the wrong spot then I ran her car down and asked if she could drive me to the right spot. I was a little bit humiliated but she was all kindness and joy!) The bus ride was long, and every sight was new to me. It was my first exposure to the unique landscapes of the big island. It took hours to finally reach my destination in Pahoa. I was meeting a man who was going to bring me to the van I would be renting for the month. It was late and rainy as I stood outside the Malama Market. I sat there hoping the rental van man wasn’t going to turn out to be a sketchy. It wasn’t. He greeted me with a smile and the warm island energy. He drove me to the van which was parked in the permaculture community he lived/worked at in Pahoa. The van was decked out with a queen size bed, a cooking stove, and storage. I fell asleep that night to the sounds of jungle rain and koke frogs. With the van came opportunity. I had 9 days to travel around the island before I started my training. Honestly, it was quite lonely and uncomfortable for those nine days. Lucky for me, I have a running group text with my family members. Sharing new sights and experiences with them throughout the day helped the transition. I spent every night in a new camp site around the island. I was continually blown away by the ever changing landscape. I was so pumped when my training started for PQ. We woke everyday just before 5 and went to bed around 10 or 11. The long days were reflective of what to expect as field guides. Cutting down a banana rack was definitely my favorite moment of training,( it turns out I have that in common with most students I have worked with in the program.) Also, waking up before sunrise every day, with the shining night sky above my head is a memory I cherish. After training was over, I had a large gap of time before I started my first shift. I connected with one of the ladies in my cohort who didn’t have a plan, other than to begin to experience the island. I invited her along with me to experience the van life and we were off! It was awesome to have a travel companion. We bounced all around the island, watching sunrises in the east then sunsets in the west. We hiked in Volcano NP, made an abnormal amount of stops to eat/restock at Island Naturals, stayed salty with frequent swims in the ocean, chased our daily medicine of fresh air and rainbows, danced under the stars at cosmic camp outs in Pahoa, shopped at the thrift store for PQ prom night, and chilled out with wifi in random coffee shops. Jess, if you are reading this, you are the best! Talk about a great start to a friendship. I was feeling a lot more grounded and welcomed during the second half of December. The new friendships and adventures were fueling me. It wasn’t all happiness and rainbows though. My heart hurt a bit on Christmas. It was my first time missing out on our family’s traditions. I was greeted with a heartwarming video on Christmas Eve of my family singing my song to me. (My nana wrote songs for all of her grandchildren when they turned 2 and it is common for all the songs to be sang together at our Christmas Eve gathering). I remember watching the video and feeling so loved and supported by my family. The following day was Christmas, I spent it parked outside of Starbucks, piggybacking on the wifi, and facetiming with my family. It was definitely a Christmas to remember. December was full of firsts. I was setting the foundation for my time on island. The stoke was high as I prepared to start my shifts. 8 days of intense therapeutic intervention with adolescents, followed by 6 days of whatever! PART 1.2: Living and loving my new homeWorking shift work is kind of bizzare, but I loved it. Our saying goes, the days are long but the weeks are short. I absorbed a lot during my time at work. I fell in love with working on the land. It helped to be surrounded by compassionate and inspiring co-workers. Wilderness therapy is emotionally and physically intense. The students, typically, do not have a love for nature yet are outside 2/3 of the day. They are struggling with developing healthy coping skills. They are adapting to foreign environment while working on whatever circumstances led them to be admitted to a therapeutic program. Yea, just intense. My stamina and self-care was constantly being tested and reevaluated. As the students grew and learned, I was able to grow and learn right alongside them. When I was not on shift, I was celebrating life with my new friends all around the island. On my first off shift, I island hopped to Kauai to spend time with my vacationing family. After a shift or two camping and couch hopping, I moved into a home in Pahoa with my friends Jess and Andrea, we bought cars, and it all started to feel a little more like home. I made a bucket list of trips to take during off shifts. I got to backpack Halape and Waimanu Valley. We often camped at a a beautiful beach called Lone Palm. I learned the ukulele and started to overcome my insecurities with singing. I drove to the top of Mauna Kea for sunset and looked at constellation and planets through huge telescopes. We frequented Kava bars. I really should have been documenting all these trips as they came because my brief mention of them does not do them justice. To speak simply, it was magical. Just like that, 6 months had gone by. We were gearing up to start the busy summer season at work. It is common in shift work to take a whole shift off so I decided to take a shift off right before summer hit. I had a hectic week at work so I was relieved to start my vacation. The plan was set in motion, I was to drive my car to the airport with the company of two of my friends, Jess and Christian. My roommate would take my car back to our Pahoa home while I flew to California to start my vacation. It was Memorial day weekend and I was meeting my friends for an annual rafting trip reunion on the Kings river. After I went rafting with my friends, I was going to spend time with my family then go to my cousins wedding. I would return to work on island refreshed and ready for summer! At least, that’s what I was hoping would happen PART 1.3: The Accident After we got off work, I drove north from Naalehu to Kona on the Mamalahoa hwy. The route scales the mountain side, lots of twists and turns.. but nothing unfamiliar to me. The drive is about one and a half hours, so we coasted along, chatting about our week and listenting to the sweet sounds of Rising Appalachia. For awhile, my wipers were on high. The rain was coming down. Eventually it lightened up to a light sprinkle. We were about 30 minutes away from Kona when the accident happened. It was so sudden. In one moment I was feeling light and giddy then the next terror. I was approaching a turn in the highway so I put my foot on the brake to lose some speed before turning. In that moment, my car jerked to the right towards to mountain side. The feel of hydroplaning is awkward as a driver, having complete control of your vehicle then none at all. I turned my wheel to try to stay on the road, but this correction led the car into oncoming traffic. I screamed as the car jolted to the left, hitting the truck driving full speed in the opposite direction.
In that moment I realized I had no control over what was to come. My mind drifted into this serene space that may only be experienced with complete surrender. I have no reliable source of time in the moments after. I just recall waking up, mumbling to my friends not to move until they knew they weren’t hurt. I heard screaming from outside, threats and anger from the passengers in the other vehicle. My friends were able to get out of the car. I sat with the realization that something was wrong with my legs. There was no pain, not yet. I felt disconnected from my lower limbs. Someone came running to my window and told me an ambulance was on its way. I told him something was wrong with my legs and my friends may have hit their heads. I think he said he was a paramedic so he went to check on my friends. I felt around my right leg, searching for blood or any obvious signs of distress. No blood, but dang something was not right. I assumed there must be break or dislocation. I called my parents and left a voicemail, “I’ve just been in a car accident. I think I broke my leg..” I sat in my car, trying not to cry as I began to realize my vacation plans were going to be a bit disturbed. Jess held my hand as we waited for the ambulance to arrive. The ambulance arrived and I told them I could not move myself out of the vehicle. They told me to take my keys out of the ignition and turn off the car, something that didn’t even cross my mind. Instantly, the fear of being blown up in my vehicle swarmed my mind. They key wouldn’t come out, leaving an annoying high pitched signal as the background sound. The paramedics were making a plan to remove me from the vehicle and put me on a stretcher. I tried to release my chair back a little, but as soon as I moved an inch back I felt the pain jolt in my upper right leg. Ah crap, I broke my femur, I just know it...try not to panic! The paramedics found their positions and moved me swiftly from a sitting position to lying on the stretcher. I never knew what it felt like to really scream. I screamed in fear just moments before as my car began to hydroplane, but this scream, as they moved my body from my car, was nothing I had ever experienced. There was no holding back the feeling of pain in my voice. They carried me into the ambulance, rain drops dripping on my face and my body shivering from the exposure, and leg limp and broken. They knew right away it was a broken femur.They placed a traction splint on it. As soon as they pulled traction, I felt a wave of relief. They began asking questions, taking vitals, warming me up. I was able to text my parents. In my delusion I told them I was on my way to the airport. (I meant to write hospital) I got to the ER and was surrounded by health care professionals, some were taking of my clothes, some hooking me up to IV, some checking my traction splint. I remember saying something that made them all laugh and them commenting on my humor remaining intact through the accident. I was given lots of pain medication. I had my phone on me so I was able to talk to my parents on the phone and fill them in on my actual whereabouts. I got a text from my friend who was going to be picking me up in California, I sent him a picture of me at the hospital and told him there was a change of plans. He called, and I talked on the phone with my friends in California for a bit. My friends that were in the car came to my side shortly after, bringing me my favorite comfort items: teddy bear and ukulele. I was scared and confused at what was to come, but also grateful to be alive. The first night in the hospital was a long one. I was carted in and out of my room for tests. Even though I was on a heavy dose of pain medication, I was reminded with every movement that the biggest/strongest bone in my body was snapped in half. I went into surgery the next day. My parents were boarding a plane as I went under the needle. In the time since, I watched a youtube video of how a rod is placed into a broken femur. It’s gruesome. Definitely glad I was knocked out for that experience. I spent 6 nights in the hospital. My parents were by the side for most of it and a lot of my island friends came to spend time with me. The doctor told me healing time for a broken femur is between 6-12 months. She anticipated I would be 100% strength in 12 months and walking without assistance in 6 months. With this news, I knew I needed to heal in California with the support of my parents. The physical therapist made sure I could get myself out of bed and use the walker/crutches before I left the hospital. As soon as I got those movements down, I left with my parents to a condo in Kona. We spent a few more nights in Kona before loading onto a plane back to California.
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