For a month after my accident I lay in bed doing exactly what I would have done had I been at home, nothing, and the pressure slowly built. And so they day eventually came when something had to be done, when the crux had come and I had to take action, yes, I had completely run out of clean clothes. Had I been sick at home laundry would have been the last thing I had to worry about, but apparently in the real world, when your on your own, time and housework stop for no concussion. But, and I will admit this, it was the saving of me. A month was perhaps the longest I've gone in life with out completing something, but I did the laundry, start to finish, and it left me feeling empowered to do something about my situation.
I think in the way that Namibia taught me who I was, America has taught me how to cope, something I've never really had to do on my own before, making realise how lucky I am to have so good a support system back home. For the first time it was my full responsibility to get to the doctors and the hospital on my own, book the appointments and make sure I got the insurance to pay for it all, sort out all the academic work and make decisions that my parents, or friends, or lectures weren't there to make for me.
So whilst I wish I could have been easier, I'm thankful that I had to do it on my own and while I may be sad that the adventure was shorter than I planned I think I learnt more than if all had been well. I even managed to have some fun and make some good friends when I wasn't sitting to far deep in self-pity. At the very least I got over my fear of telephoning people I don't know, and that in its self is worth it weight in transatlantic plane tickets.
