Tonight I came across a new blog: nieniedialogues.blogspot.com
This woman, who had a blog beforehand, had over 80% of her body burned in a terrible plane accident. Since the accident, her blog has basically been about her recovery and how it has affected her and her family. I cried reading it and have already read twenty pages tonight.
Here is a bit from Nie's blog:
I asked Mr. Nielson with tears
in my eyes if he could still see me.
He was shocked at the question and slightly confused. But he answered anyway; he said he didn’t compare me to anything especially my appearance before the accident.
Maybe he doesn’t, but I do.
Sometimes I actually scare myself.
Yesterday at the grocery store a woman turned around to me in the
line and with an exhausted look she blurted out:
“Oh, I feel just the way you look!!”
I wanted to curl up and cry in the fetal position right there in isle three. I looked away and tears stung my eyes. I wasn’t prepared to have confirmed to me what I had felt earlier that morning after I had scrubbed my fragile body in the shower until it bled.
Part of the deal I chose, I guess.
I guess I should just suck it up and remember my blessings.
But part of me hurts for outward beauty.
When I lie in my bed as still as can be, I feel like the Stephanie before. Out my eyes I feel just the same. I feel perfect. My skin isn’t strained and my joints don’t rip my thin skin over and over with each movement.
That’s why getting up is hard to do.
in my eyes if he could still see me.
He was shocked at the question and slightly confused. But he answered anyway; he said he didn’t compare me to anything especially my appearance before the accident.
Maybe he doesn’t, but I do.
Sometimes I actually scare myself.
Yesterday at the grocery store a woman turned around to me in the
line and with an exhausted look she blurted out:
“Oh, I feel just the way you look!!”
I wanted to curl up and cry in the fetal position right there in isle three. I looked away and tears stung my eyes. I wasn’t prepared to have confirmed to me what I had felt earlier that morning after I had scrubbed my fragile body in the shower until it bled.
Part of the deal I chose, I guess.
I guess I should just suck it up and remember my blessings.
But part of me hurts for outward beauty.
When I lie in my bed as still as can be, I feel like the Stephanie before. Out my eyes I feel just the same. I feel perfect. My skin isn’t strained and my joints don’t rip my thin skin over and over with each movement.
That’s why getting up is hard to do.
Blogs like hers, no doubt, save many lives.
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