Thinking about the other guy

For the first time, MG was left at home without a family member - meaning either SB or me - to care for her.
It was scary.
For her, I'm sure. But also for me. As much as I realize so much is out of my control in all of this, I feel like by being there I'm able to control as much as I can.
It's probably more emotional control, to be honest - both for MG and for me. The truth is, for the most part I'm helpless to help her whether I'm beside her or 400 miles away. But I guess I feel better if I'm beside her when somethings is wrong, and I know she feels better if I'm there, too.
At this point, the comfort is emotional more than physical.
We control what we can.

MG is making progress, but the more progress she makes the more she seems aware of how far she has to go. That's natural. But having been cleared to put weight on her right leg, MG can now use the walker to stand up beside the bed and "pivot" to sit on a bed-side chair. That's huge.
At the same time, the more MG does, the more her body reacts to over a month of near inactivity plus the severity of injury and screams at her. Muscles, nerves, bones, wounds - it would be one thing if it was just one thing, but because there are so many things working in combination (and often in conflict) that at times there is no way to get relief.
Feeling comes back in one part, but that only makes her more aware of the lack of feeling in other parts and concern over whether that will come back. She is able to control more of her muscles than ever - she can practically sit up on her own now - but again, that success only the muscles over which she hasn't begun to regain control more obvious.
Add to that the fact that the doctors are trying to slowly cut back on medication, and you can see why I describe the process as two steps forward and one step back. Or maybe it's one step forward and a half slide back. Still, what we try to focus on is that there is progress being made.

The other day, perhaps for the first time in a long time, I really began to wonder about the guy that hit her. I wonder if he realizes the full extent of what his stupid, careless act of driving while incredibly intoxicated has done.
I know his name, his address, where he was employed at the time of the accident, etc - and I'm not angry as much as I'm sad. Yes, I think "sad" is the word - sad that this happened, that he wasn't responsible enough to have insurance, or to not drive after drinking so heavily, sad that his family members (he said he was at his brother's house celebrating his brother's birthday and drinking all night) would let him leave their house in that condition and ... well, just sad at the whole mess.
There is no reason to get angry, because I can't do anything to change what is. But I'm sad that this is where things stand.
I know his life is a mess, too. I know he's apparently looking at serious jail time. And one of my insurance companies could decide to sue him. There are times I have some measure of empathy for him, believing his life has taken a turn he'd never anticipated by one stupid, dangerous decision.
Still, he's not looking at the person he loves lying in bed all day, unable to do some of the most basic things without help, needing constant companionship.
He's not watching his daughter lose so much of her summer vacation because she has to stay at home at night to care for her mother while I am off working in another state.
He doesn't lie in bed next to his wife (or, in my daughter's case, mother), trying to get as much sleep as possible but also trying to be aware of when MG calls out because she's in pain or needs to go to the bathroom or can't get comfortable or just needs to take her medicine.
He doesn't see the way I sometimes lash out at my sons - not because of anything they've done, but because I'm tired and they had the misfortune of asking me something when I was ready to explode.
I look at the paperwork that I have to do around insurance and the concerns I have as to what insurance will cover and what it won't and find myself frustrated because if he had just had insurance like he was legally required to have then the problem would be with his insurance company and not mine.
I never knew that hospitals in the state of Alabama have the legal right to put a lien on your house as soon as you leave the hospital as a guarantee against getting paid. That seems incredibly unfair (although I have to laugh because the lien is for more than my house is worth), but I'm told it's the law.
(The good news is even my insurance company says not to worry, that it's standard practice and will ultimately be taken care of. But still ...)
People ask me if I'm going to sue the other guy. I'm told he has nothing, and that's really going to be up to the insurance company, to try to get back as much of their money as they can.
I was told by one of the insurance people that they've known of instances where an insurance company went after a person and won a judgement of $50 a month for 50 years. The idea was just to keep the guilty party responsible, and I admit that sounds fair to me, given what I'm going through.
I could go on, but I'm just venting. Still, if you read this, maybe it will help you understand how a wrong decision can affect so many other lives.
I will say it has made me very aware of that in my own life. I do realize none of us live in vacuums. Our actions do affect other people, people we may never know in ways we may never imagine. The ripples just go on and on and on ... and it gives an added responsibility to my life, to my decisions, to my actions that I guess I knew I had, but it was so easy not to think of because I am so often "immune" (for lack of a better word) to those ramifications.

If it sounds like sometime I feel sorry for myself and my family, I guess I do.
But at the same time, there have been so many blessings: we have gotten reconnected with a lot of friends and family all over the country. My brother-in-law, his wife and their three daughters spent the last few days with us, and it was so much fun for MG who loves little girls. Even though she didn't get to spend much actual time with them, she loved hearing their laughter and the sound of their running through the house. My sister, one of my brothers, and now four of MG's brothers and three of their wives have been down to see us. My father-in-law came last week and will return this week. The phone calls and emails are constant and comforting.
Tim and Julie worried about bringing their three girls down, afraid it might be too much for MG. But every morning and evening, all three would come in to MG's bedside and give her the sweetest hugs and kisses. And one asked her mother, "Can we stay at Aunt MG's all summer?"
That was as good as any prescription the doctors have given us.

There are so many people to thank for their love and care. We couldn't do this without them - without family, old friends, the body of Christ through the church and Christian Service Mission, the families of Excelsior Co-op, even total strangers who let us know they found out somehow about the accident and are praying.

That, too, sometimes makes me think of the guy who hit MG. I wonder if he is as blessed as I am to have this kind of support.
I pray that he does. And that if he doesn't, that maybe through this - because of this - he will.