I got attacked by a dog last Sunday.
I agonized over the verb. “Mauled” sounds really dramatic – probably a bit too dramatic. “Beat up” underplays what happened. “Attacked” sounds about right.
I could tell you all the details, but to be honest, I’ve told them enough times this week to EMTs and doctors and animal control and family, and I’m tired of sharing them. The details don’t really matter. The biggest detail that does matter is that the dog wasn’t a stray and we know that the dog was up on his shots so, I don’t have rabies.
Here are a few more details that I’ll share:
I got to ride in an ambulance for the first time (Although I thought I was riding in a firetruck because that’s the only emergency vehicle I saw pull up to the house between the blood and closed eyes. I was a little disappointed when I found out it was just an ambulance).
I got stitches for the first time. Stiches aren’t so bad. Shots in the face are really terrible.
I got my nose broken for the first time. I have a new compassion for people being punched in the face in movies – and in real life.
I got Percocet for the first time. I’m not addicted. It makes me feel weird in all the wrong ways.
I was down for the count for the week. I had a bum arm that was in a lot of pain, and a face that hurt to move. Also my nose was twice it’s size – which is saying something – and I didn’t want to take the schnoz in public. I took the week of work to heal and sleep and watch rom coms.
The week was terrible. I’m not going to sugar coat it. I felt incredibly helpless, weak, nauseous, and fearful. I was angry at times, too. It was a pretty terrible week to miss work.
(Thank God there’s a but)
God’s love was so very evident this week through people. And these are the details I’m up for sharing:
1. I have the most amazing husband. If you ever plan a crisis, invite Adam. He was there when the attack happened and he took charge. He knew just what to do. He said all the right things. Even lying when necessary (telling me that my face was still beautiful when it was rather gross). He waited on me hand and foot, getting up for middle of the night meds, dressing my wounds, and staying in the room while I dry-heaved. He even slept on the floor so he could be close but not bump my arm. He did every dish this week and even cooked a few nights without a single inconvenienced huff. The man has been holding out on me in the cooking department (but don’t tell him I said that or he’ll start cooking and then I’ll start having to do dishes). Thank you, Goose. You are the best gift God ever gave me!
2. I have the most caring family. I was overwhelmed by texts, cards, emails, niece videos, and ice cream deliveries from my family who was freaking out from a distance. I’m so blessed to have a family that loves me so much. Love you guys!
3. I have the greatest non-family family – We didn’t share about the incident very publicly – it was so unexpected and traumatic that we were pretty quiet. We kept this news off social media, and we only really shared with the people we see weekly (either because we weren’t going to see them or they saw me and had a few questions). Turns out we see a lot of people weekly. Those that we told flooded us with love. We had meals brought to our home, gluten free dessert drop offs, care packages complete with celeb gossip magazines, flowers, cards, chick flick stash loaners, doctor appointment drivers… just to name a few. We were literally blown away by our people. So thank you dear friends for caring for us so well!
This week’s takeaways: Trauma sucks. Pain sucks. Having people to care for you and love you in the midst of trauma and pain makes it slightly more bearable.