When your world changes

It's been a couple of weeks, but I still feel like it's important I write this down. Some of my reflections might have shifted a bit in the last few days and that's ok.

Last Saturday McKenzie was all primed for her state gymnastics meet. She had big goals and was feeling like she was ready to go that night. We had family pictures coming in Utah the next week and I wanted to stop and pick up a couple of sweaters that I had ordered for Jeremy. The Outlet mall was on our way up to Loveland and even though McKenzie wasn't happy about it, she was willing to take the ten-minute detour to grab those. She chose to wait in the car for me since it was going to be such a quick stop.

The parking lot was full that night, so I ended up down at the end of the second row of cars. I walked into the store and picked up the sweaters with no problem. I started walking back to my car. I could see people coming and going in the parking lot and a few cars circling for spots. Once in the parking lot one of those cars, an older gray truck, was driving alongside me. I assumed they were waiting for me to get to my car and take my parking spot. I was in the second row, not the first, so I scooted over in-between the cars to indicate they didn't need to follow me. I was a little surprised they didn't drive ahead after that but didn't think it was too weird.

Then suddenly the passenger of the truck hopped out of the truck and yelled, "Give it up b-".  I turned to face him wondering why he was yelling. I was surprised to see him wearing a balaclava and noted that apparently not all masks are black. He reached me in a few short strides and grabbed my shopping bag. I pulled it back and shouted, "What the heck?!" I tried pushing him away. I tried swinging the bag at his head. I tried to hit him to get him to go away. At one point I shouted, "They're just sweaters!" Apparently, he didn't care. I must have noticed him preparing to swing at me because I turned around and ducked. He punched me three times in rapid succession on the back in my head. I must have cried out at that point, and I let him go. He immediately ran back and jumped in the truck where his driver started driving away. I wanted to get some information off the truck like a license plate, so I followed it. My vision was black and shaky. I was feeling wobbly on my feet. The license plate had been removed. The only details I caught were that it was an older model grey truck. It had a little rust on the rear wheel well, and it had a roll bar behind the cab.

I was stumbling and realized I needed help. I tried calling out "Help!" Even though it sounded so pathetic. I walked over and leaned on the black spoiler of a white car. A couple and their daughter immediately came over. They had seen what had happened and the husband called 911. The woman asked if I knew that guy or not as she thought it might be a boyfriend/girlfriend quarrel. As I assured her I had never seen that man before in my life, I could hear her husband talking with dispatch. He was relating what had happened and was trying to give directions to the responders so they could find us.

This all happened just two cars away from where McKenzie was waiting in our car. She had missed the first part of the attack because she was looking at her phone. But after she heard someone cry out, she looked up and saw the guy running back to his truck. She got out of the car when she saw me resting against the other car. She had no idea what had happened but thought I had gone crazy. I was alternating between laughing and crying. She asked if that guy had taken Dad's sweaters and I laughed as I realized that I had just been robbed. It was cold so when she thought I was ok, she went back and waited in Baymax.

The police officer arrived and started asking about what happened. I related my story and the other family reported what they heard. At this point I was thinking that perhaps I could still go back into the store and ask if I could get replacement sweaters. I also was hoping that the questioning wouldn't take too long because I still had to get McKenzie to State. When the paramedics arrived, I couldn't handle their flashing lights. In contrast with the dark night, it was too much and I realized for the first time the guy might have given me a concussion. I was still thinking that I'd be ok with an ibuprofen. Five paramedics climbed out of the ambulance and a fire truck and started asking about my symptoms and where I hurt. I felt something sticky on the back of my neck and thought it must be blood. I began to realize that there was no way I was going to be able to get McKenzie to her meet now.  I felt sick because of that.

The paramedics confirmed that there was a gash on my head and there was nothing they could do about it in the field. I was going to have to go to the ER. There was so much confusion at this point. I had a lot of people asking me questions. The lights were so bright. My body was pumping with adrenaline. I was so confused. I needed to find a ride for McKenzie. Because it was in Loveland at least her teammates would be driving past us. The question was what teammates hadn't passed us yet. Some of them were at all earlier session, and I knew McKenna at least was going up early. My fingers were shaking as I tried dialing numbers. My voice was shaking as I got ahold of Nikki's mom. Thank goodness she answered an unknown number. We had just met the night before. I was climbing into the ambulance as I was trying to explain what had happened and that McKenzie desperately needed a ride. She had already passed us but was willing to turn back and come get her. Inside the ambulance the chaos continued. The paramedics were taking my vitals. McKenzie climbed in looking terrified. Jeremy was texting asking about McKenzie's meet. McKenzie realized she needed her gymnastics stuff, so she and the officer walked back to the car to get it. She needed to call Noelle because she had left her bag at home. So much was going on.

As I was strapped to the gurney I looked down and embarrassingly noticed that I had wet my pants during the attack. I thought I could feel something but assumed it was a sneeze pee. It wasn't. My jeans were soaking wet. I took off my coat and laid it across my lap to hide it on the short drive to the ER. I was actually relieved that they were going to wheel me in on the gurney because it was easier to hide that way.

I was admitted to a room and it was a whirlwind of activity for the first part. Nurses and doctors were checking me out. The officer was there asking questions. I was getting a lot of confused and concerned text messages from McKenzie's team. Poor Jeremy only had the information, "Got mugged. In the ER. Ok," so he was trying to call and sort things out too. McKenzie was sitting in the corner looking very lost and scared.  It didn't take long for Noelle to bring her bag and for Nikki to arrive to pick her up. The girls were going to be late, but at least she was on her way. Thank heavens she could spend the evening somewhere a little more normal than with her mom in an emergency room.

After the initial surge of activity, it quieted down and I settled in for a long ER visit. I asked a nurse to bring me some clean pants, so I was hanging out in a hospital gown and paper-thin scrubs. I was grateful to be dry. I also set about trying to handle all the communication I was getting and telling the story to those who needed to hear it. Unfortunately, my phone battery was draining quickly and after only having been there for one hour, I only had one hour worth of battery left. That needed to last me through discharge so I could get home, through McKenzie's meet so I could watch her routines and check in with her, and through the night so I didn't feel so alone.  Jen sent me McKenzie's routines. She looked so rattled but I am crazy proud of her for competing at all. She had more going on than any of the other gymnasts there. She didn't do as well as she'd hoped, but that was to be expected considering the circumstances. She still came home with a medal on beam. I don't think she knows just what an incredible thing she did that night.

The doctor finally came in and he had to give me three staples in the back of my head. I was grateful they didn't have to cut any hair, and that I can hide the wound beneath my hair. The actual treatment was over very quickly. But I also was approached by a forensic nurse. Her job is to document everything that could be used in a trial. When I heard her talk about some of the patients she sees, I couldn't help but think how lucky I was that my injuries were as mild as they were. I went into the bathroom to check to make sure he hadn't hurt me anywhere else that the adrenaline was masking, but I was clear. She took photos and measurements of my injury to include with the case file. I doubt there is any way they are going to catch these guys but if they do, I want him to know what he did. After she was done, she told me I could get dressed. When I explained that my clothes were dirty and I was planning on wearing the scrubs home, she didn't approve of that at all. She brought me a fresh set of clean clothes all wrapped up with a blue ribbon: leggings, a shirt, a sweatshirt, bra, and underwear. At least I could leave the hospital with a little bit of dignity, and my heart went out to all the women who also needed this simple yet powerful gift.

Noelle was able to come pick me up. I'm pretty sure I was still in shock because I was laughing like crazy listening to her talk about her earlier conversation with McKenzie and just how indecipherable it was. I was crying as I described wetting myself.  But I told of the attack in a very logical, sterile kind of way. Cambrie pulled up with Chuck at the same time. Jeremy, not knowing all the circumstances, had called Chuck earlier and he came to pick up the three kids and Moki from the house. While the boys were sound asleep by the time I was released from the hospital, Cambrie wanted to come home. McKenzie got home just moments later.

Neither girl actually knew the whole story so I shared a little bit more of the chaos of that night. They asked to see my injury and as I pulled off my white coat, I was surprised to see how much blood was around the collar. I also had a lot of dried blood still in my hair, so I looked a mess. After asking about McKenzie's meet and Cambrie's weird night we went upstairs. I had to shower, and it was a little surreal watching the blood flow down the drain. Nothing had really sunk in yet.

The next day the girls and I had a recovery day. We stayed in our jammies all day and watched chick flicks and the Great British Baking Show. I had to field a lot of calls, messages, and questions. I couldn't process most of them. The rest of this week I've simply spent taking things easy. My mom came out to take the three younger ones to Utah. Jeremy finished his Ironman race and came home from Arizona. Cambrie and I have been enjoying the generosity and kindness of others as they've dropped off food, goodies, and flowers.

A lot of people stopped by to say hi and express their love and concern. I've told this story now dozens of times.  There are small moments when it really sinks in and I realize, "I've been mugged. I was actually attacked in a parking lot." Those moments feel really heavy and surreal. You expect to be mugged in a foreign country. You hear stories of missionaries being mugged on their missions. You know you aren't supposed to be in dark, lonely parking lots by yourself because you might get attacked. You don't think a story like this will be your story. And as I've thought about this a lot the past week, I am filled with an overwhelming awareness of the blessings I experienced that night. Even in a very crappy situation Heavenly Father was there. He did everything he could to make an awful situation less awful.

-My injuries weren't worse. It was a mild concussion, and the rest is hidden in the back of my hair. It wasn't on my face.

-I didn't get knocked down and he didn't keep hitting. It also wasn't a sexual attack.

-McKenzie was safely in the car and didn't see him hit me.

-McKenzie knew she could call her sister for support.

-They only got the sweaters. My wallet and phone were in my coat pockets and left untouched.

 -There was someone in the parking lot who could help me and scared him away.

-911 was close

-I saw it coming. He didn't attack me from behind.

-Noelle was able to interpret McKenzie's call.

-I had just met Christy the night before and Nikki was willing to be late to help a friend.

-Mine and McKenzie's song turned on immediately in the car as she drove away, it was a message for her from Heavenly Father that I was going to be ok

-The team was there to support McKenzie.

-My phone battery didn't die. It lasted three hours on 1% battery life

-The victim advocate was there to help

-Chuck was able to help with the boys that night and all the next day at church.

-I am blessed to know that I did nothing wrong, and it wasn't my fault.

-I was able to get the blood out of my coat.

-Meredith was able to see McKenzie and me on Monday and we were able to get some tools to help us sort through what happened.

Truly my list of things to be grateful for that night is so, so long. My list of complaints is actually very small. Yes, I was attacked but sometimes things just happen. It could have been so much worse, and it wasn't.

But just because I'm grateful doesn't mean the rest of the recovery necessarily comes easily. Physically the recovery is going very well. My concussion symptoms were mild and were gone after three or four days. The staples don't hurt that much, and are only irritated when I lay on them, which makes sleeping kind of tricky. Emotionally the recovery has been much more of a roller coaster. I was riding an adrenaline high the first few days which meant that I felt almost ok. As the days went on however, I began noticing the triggers I knew were coming.  I had a hard time falling asleep at night because the whole situation would just run through my head on repeat. I started getting shaky when I would retell the story. For one day I stared intently at every truck that passed by looking for similarities. I don't like not knowing what is going to happen so I purposely went on outings I thought could trigger a response. I asked Jeremy to take me to the mall where it happened. Walking around the mall was a little exhausting because I looked at every man around me wondering if he was the one who attacked me. I looked at their height, weight, and eyes. In the parking lot I kept looking over my shoulder, not trusting what was behind me. The parked cars made me nervous because I didn't know if anyone was waiting in them. The moving cars made me nervous because I didn't know if they would stop next to me.  I was really grateful to be back home. 

Since then, I’ve tried living my life like normal.  I’ve started working out again to help process everything that happened and hopefully to make me tired enough to sleep at night.  I picked up some substitute teaching jobs at school so I could be surrounded by cute, little, innocent humans.  I’ve put up our Christmas decorations and tried being present as a mom.  Unfortunately, I’m learning that normal life routines aren’t enough to protect me from everything my body and mind are trying to process.  Cambrie had an orchestra concert at Flatirons Mall on Friday night (two weeks after the attack).  I was worn out and exhausted during the concert, but the music was rather healing.  After the concert she asked to stay and hang out with her friends and that she would get a ride home.  This meant that I had to go home by myself.  It was the first time I had been alone on an errand after the attack. All last week my mom, Jeremy, or Cambrie was with me while I was running around.  I didn’t realize just how much I had been depending on that.  I could feel my anxiety rising the closer I drew to the exit.  Right in front of me a young family was also walking out to their car.  I thought I should ask the dad to escort me to my car because I was so nervous, but ultimately I didn’t want to inconvenience their little kids.  I wanted to run through that parking lot as fast as I could to climb in my car where it was safe.  I tried not to panic as I realized I was totally alone among the parked cars.  I had to turn my back to put Cambrie’s cello in the trunk and that was a test of self-control.  I opened my door and climbed in as fast as I possibly could, but I was panting, sweating, and feeling so incredibly scared.  The next night the girls and I went shopping at Hobby Lobby.  Simply being on the other side of I25 was enough to raise my anxiety levels.  It was dark so walking into the store was a little tense. Inside the store it was busy, and I couldn’t handle all of the commotion.  By the time we were checking out I was ready to be out of there.  But as the cashier handed us our bags, I didn’t want to pick it up. My emotions told me that if I picked up that bag then I could become a target.  I felt physically sick as I carried the bag into the parking lot. I worried that if I gave in to the panic I was feeling, it would completely overtake me.  It was almost too much.

This seemingly emotional regression has been very hard on me today.  The week after the attack I felt so calm and in control.  So the fact that I’m falling apart now seems backwards.  It’s like my body has finally decided that it’s safe enough to feel again and I am definitely feeling things.  I’m a lot more scared now that I had been.  My anxiety which I haven’t felt for months is back.  I don’t want to leave the house because it’s safer here with my people.  I don’t want to be alone by any car at all.  I don’t want to go shopping or hold shopping bags.  My head hurts, and I’m so, so tired.  It feels like I’ve been crying for days and am so emotionally drained.  Even though I know this will all get better eventually, right now it's simply really hard.