This one is for AussieDi

In 1982, a few weeks after I graduated from high school, I had a near-fatal automobile accident. I was stopped at a stop sign when a Ford F-150 truck t-boned my little Chevy Vega on the driver’s side. It was a hot July day, my brother (age 9 at the time) was in the car with me and we had the windows rolled down. My baby brother escaped with a mild concussion and a laceration on his forehead. God is good.
The left side of my skull was crushed. A major artery to my brain had been ruptured. If it had not been for a small cut, I would have died from a brain hemorrhage in 2 or 3 minutes. The accident happened just a few yards away from the ambulance service, or I would have bled to death in less than 10 minutes. When the EMTs got to me, they thought I was a lost cause. They were certain that I would die before they could get me to a hospital, but they had a sworn duty to perform.
My dad had caught up with the ambulance by the time it arrived at the nearest hospital, and surprise, I was still alive. The attending ER doctor told my dad that that hospital did not have the kind of specialty doctor that I desperately needed, and he recommended that I be taken to another hospital. So, they loaded me back into the ambulance and away we went.
I was still alive when we arrived at the 2nd hospital, obviously, and I was rushed into surgery. (In the meantime, word had spread about the accident and friends, family, and church friends were praying for me, and the Lord listened.) When I was moved to the recovery room, the neurosurgeon met with my family. He told them that the only thing he could promise them was that I would live. I was in a coma, and ther was a good chance that I would never, ever come out of the coma. If I did, there might be what seemed to be an endless list problems to brace for ----- mental retarded, amnesia, personality reversal, quadriplegic, paraplegic, blind, deaf, mute ………………………. many more things that I can’t remember.   After a few hours, my parents went home to check on my brother and shower. While they were gone……….
I spent a grand total of 32 hours in the coma. When I started coming out of it, I realized that I was in a hospital and called for a nurse. When the nurse came to me, I told her that I had a HORRIBLE headache, and I ASKED IF SHE COULD GET ME 2 ASPIRIN AND A RIDE HOME. She gave me something more powerful than aspirin, but she couldn’t produce a ride. Boy, was I mad!!!!! How fortunate for the hospital staff that I was unable to get out of the bed and walk without assistance!!! After a couple of days, the dr. had me moved to a private room as a precautionary measure. He feared for the safety of the other patients in ICU.
The very first time I heard the country song, “Close Enough to Perfect”, by Alabama, I 18 years old and lying in a hospital bed in that private room with my head shaved, my face swollen, the left side of my face paralyzed, unable to walk or stand alone, speech and memory totally shot………….more bad things than I can remember…………but I was still a miracle. And I still refused to accept “reality”.
10 days of me was all that hospital could handle. The Dr. sent me home. He and I had a little argument before he agreed to release me. I thought that I was going to just get up and walk out. He said, “Oh no, you’re not!”……. I said, “Oh, yes I am!”   We went around a few times and he finally said, “You ride down in this wheelchair, or you’re not going anywhere!” I said, “Okay.”
I had a hard road ahead (and I’ve left a lot out), but I was completely released from the doctor’s care 9 months later.  I was still picking the headlight glass from that truck out of my bicep a year later!
Di, I’ve been deaf in my left ear since the accident, and since my stroke, if you watch, you can see weakness in the left side of my face, but God has been sooooo good to me. I have hiked up mountain trails and canoed down rivers. I have a beautiful daughter and a bachelor’s degree. I’ve been married twice ---- my 1st husband died in a car accident, and I have lived to love, stronger than before, and marry again, happier than before.
And Di, this is just part of my story, my true story. In 1982, medical science was primitive compared to what it is now, and there is still the one true and living God. There is much, much more hope for your daughter, as well as your husband, than there was for me.
This is a big part of the reason I refuse to accept CFS as a permanent condition. We never know what the Lord God Almighty has in store!