Getting It Through My Thick Skull Read Online Free PDF Page A

gauntlet and stuck firmly behind Joe’s story: the cops lied when they claimed that Joey and Amy had had an affair of any kind. There was no official signed statement by Joe; they hadn’t taped Joey in any interviews; it was a he said/they said situation. At most, I thought that Amy might have developed a crush on Joe at the garage and fabricated this whole “affair” in her mind. I wouldn’t put anything past a girl who could ring a doorbell and then shoot somebody in the head. She was clearly unstable, and her lawyer wasn’t helping her. He was exploiting her—and destroying my family along the way.
    After eleven days in the hospital, the doctors agreed I was well enough to check out and continue recovering at home. The doctors in charge of my case gathered in my room that morning to prepare me for what was to come.
    “Your eye, which is stuck open, will eventually close, and the patch can come off. Your vision in that eye should eventually be all right. Your balance will continue to improve as your equilibrium readjusts itself. The facial paralysis is permanent, but we will continue to work on it in therapy and hopefully the muscles will relax somewhat over time. Same thing with your esophagus; it’s paralyzed, but the left side of your throat will eventually learn to compensate and you’ll be able to swallow real food. For now, only liquids or puddings. Your speech will similarly improve.” The senior doctor paused.
    “The cleaning and packing of the wound must continue at home for several more weeks,” he said. I groaned, but it was about to get much worse. “The hearing in your right ear is gone forever, Mary Jo,” he said bluntly. “The eardrum was shattered, and there’s nothing we can do to fix that damage. You will be permanently deaf on that side.”
    I’d realized I was deaf in one ear, of course, but I had been holding out hope that this was a temporary condition. It’s difficult to describe the sensation of deafness in one ear; it’s not the equivalent of losing half your power to hear. It means complete disorientation as to what direction a sound comes from. It means being bothered by background noise that everyone else automatically tunes out. It’s living with a strange hollowness inside the head. In practical terms, it meant that for the rest of my life I would have to sit with my “good” ear near the person I was with, or look at them face-to-face if I wanted to hear and understand their words. And I’d have to get real good at lipreading. I wept as I sat in my wheelchair waiting for Joey to pull the car around.
    Thankfully, the hospital made no public announcement that I was being released. Joey and I were able to drive home and get inside without being bothered by the press. Joey carried me up the stairs, and I got myself settled into my own bedroom. Several close friends and neighbors stopped by to welcome me home, bringing flowers and hugs and news. In a touching and beautiful gesture, one of our friends, wanting to help out in any way she could, canvassed our street asking people if they would sign up to bring us a hot meal or casserole for dinner each night. Sixty families signed up. For two months after I came home from the hospital, friends stopped by our house every afternoon and brought us the most delicious meals. It was a show of kindness and concern that I will be forever grateful for.
    Everyone protected us at every turn. The media became a constant presence in front of our house in the summer of 1992. Intrusive journalists, news vans, cables, wires, and curious crowds became a fact of life, something we all had to live with on a daily basis. Reporters invaded our quiet little community, bothering and questioning everyone who came by to visit or help. The more allegations that got hurled at Joey by Amy’s defense lawyer, the more crazed the media attack became. Just getting the kids out of the house and around the corner to the beach club without being attacked by the