comparatively speaking

  You're all about to get annoyed with me. I gotta write this, though. No apologetics.

Comparison is one of the worst things people can do to themselves. Even knowing this, I find myself in the middle of such a tearing-me-apart kind of comparison with someone else and her own [horrific] trauma, it is literally just defeating me.

I follow a blog written by a woman who was involved in a plane crash five years ago. Someone I know introduced me to her blog, because that person thought it would be good for me to connect with another person dealing with skin grafts (at the time I wrote directly to her, but didn't get an answer).

The woman who had the plane crash is named Stephanie Nielson. She actually started her blog before her life changing crash. Her blog was and still is about life as a mother, and that her dreams are fulfilled by mothering her children and having a wonderful husband. They are Mormon's. She basically paints a picture-perfect life before her crash.

The crash was while she and her husband were on a private plane, being flown by a friend. The friend got killed, and she and her husband suffered horrific burns. She was burned on 85% of her body. I think she was in a coma for 2 or so months, bandaged from head to toe, only breathing apparatus and feeding tube could be seen.

She has obviously been through the wringer. A much more vicious wringer than the one I have been through, in my mind. Most of her body is burned skin, her face is completely remade and patchy, and she is constantly dealing with her graft problems.She misses being pretty, but has made her peace with it. She doesn't talk about that much, though. She rejoices in being alive, and often talks about faith in the Heavenly Father (fill in the blank for which Father you want), and that all she wants is to fulfill His will and reassure her children that they are protected (I also say that, and that God knows what our family needs. There, on the religion front, I actually do relate to her, even though she is Mormon).

She also had four kids when her accident happened. A year ago, she had another baby. I feel like she had the fifth kid I wanted. She went for it, going off all medicines to accomplish a healthy pregnancy. When, during her pregnancy, she wrote a blog update that they found out it is a girl, I literally cried. I yearned for another pregnancy (and I admit another girl), and she was braver than me to do it. She had lots of pain with stretching burned skin, and got into baths a lot to soothe her skin. After the birth, she had a plastic surgery procedure to take the stretched skin and bring it up across her belly to make her torso look and feel better. I could have done that, too, and had the reconstruction done without skin expanders at first like it would have to be now if I want to do it.

Her baby reminds me of Shifra. Gorgeous fluffy face, red hair, huge thighs.
My heart hurts when I see pictures of her. I know it is totally off-base for me to compare her with myself, (and she is quite a bit younger), but when it comes to coping with regular life, and having the heroism to have another baby after the tragedy, I come up short, in my mind.

She doesn't talk much about being overtired. Occasionally she has a hard day and is exhausted, but it sounds like regular exhaustion that everyone gets at the end of a long day with five kids. Neither she or her husband can work anymore, but I am sure they are financially well off (not important to get into details here). She has tons of active days, and writes about all the cool stuff she does with the kids & family, is always optimistic and sweet as pie. It seems to me that her faith has carried her into optimism much further than mine has.

It just seems to me that she never has non-functional days. I totally know that you are saying "she does, she just chooses not to write about them". That may be so, and I know her blog is of a very different nature than mine, just by virtue of the fact that she started hers before her accident, as a happy Mormon Mommy, living for her family and God. (I am that, too, sometimes, just replace Jewish for Mormon, right?)

She never talks about being in bed all day (except actually now when she just had gall-bladder removal surgery), and she has this amazing view of the world.

She had the fifth baby.
Even though:
She is visibly, very badly scarred all over every part of her body.
Oh, did I tell you that her book is already out? Yes it is. And it was immediately on the New York Times best seller's list. Yes it was.
I haven't started my book yet, although I really, really want to. So, I should get off my butt and just do it? Is that the answer? That can't be right, it intuitively doesn't sound right, but really, what is going on with me? I just am too damn tired. But I want it so bad to write about this all. ALL. How did she find time (and energy) and I can't seem to?

I have been so upset by this, starting from last night in an intense way (although me making comparison's between her and myself always is depressing, and has been going on ever since I started following her blog). Why last night? Well, I wanted to show Robert pictures of her 1 year old baby, because I feel she looks a bit like Shifra did. Well Robert got interested in seeing what this woman looked like beforehand, so we wound up looking at a good piece of her blog and short video clips. I got *so upset*. How can she be able to rise above adversity to such a level? Why am I overtired all the time and spend all days in bed sometimes, even forgetting to make the challot for Shabbat? Oh, here's that tidbit- it happened this past Friday- I only realized a half hour before Shabbat that we had no challot... that I didn't make them. Friends bailed us out by donating challot they had (thanks friends!), but the point is I was feeling so intensely tired and sick that I forgot to do the one thing I try to hold on to for Shabbat- making the challot. There was *nothing* all Shabbat on the table that I made. Yes, I am grateful that Robert cooks (words aren't enough, my sweetie), but I want so much to adorn the Shabbat table with challot (and it is a woman's mitzvah to do so) that actually forgetting to do that is very serious in my eyes.

What is wrong with me? You may be appalled at that question, but honestly, look at the situation. I got really really sick almost 6 years ago (anniversary coming up soon). I was in a coma for less than a week. I had a few life-saving surgeries and was left with huge scarring and skin grafts. Then after that I got another disease near where the first one was. I've had multiple surgeries. I have chronic pain and take very strong medicines to combat it.

This woman has skin grafts from head to toe. (oh, and did I tell you that her fingers don't work as they are meant to work, rebuilt after the accident?) I know all those grafts mean *a lot* of nerve pain. I *know* about nerve pain. I have it in such a bad way that if I am switching meds or for some reason I am not covered with anti-nerve pain medicine, the pain can actually debilitate me and make me cry out. She went off her meds to be pregnant and have another baby. I could never see myself being able to do that, not for one day. That medicine is my lifeline. Could it be that with my [large but comparatively small to hers] skin grafts are more painful that hers are? Are my wounds deeper? Gapey is literally a hole, which, before the graft was done, you could see straight through to my innards. Even though, it is impossible to fathom that I have more pain than her. I know pain is relative. I have seen many, many women in all stages of labor, and it is impossible to rate one person's pain with another's at the same stage. But yet, even with that experiential knowledge, I am comparing my pain with hers.

I know you guys are getting really annoyed with me by this point. You want me to chill out, get off her blog, and stop comparing myself to others.Easier said than done. But actually I am looking for comforting words here. I always am with my blogging.

(oh, and I had a minor car accident today. I am fine except very shaken up, mostly because the other driver went OFF on me (even though it was his fault and he knew it) calling me all sorts of things one shouldn't say in front of their KIDS (yes, his kids were right there with him. Thankfully I was alone). He didn't cooperate and give me his name, so I took down his license and called my insurance. It'll be OK. I just feel crappy.)

Let's pray for a better week ahead.

(Oh, if you want to see her blog, I feel I have a responsibility to link to her: here it is.)