drowned and back again

This past week of being home recovering has been fairly uneventful, but that is good for the healing part of my getting better job. My throat is still sore, from being tubed for three days, and there are painful points along my sternum that are sure to make themselves known when I move suddenly or lean over. Yesterday was my first day without a nap, which is also some progress.
I've been listening to Trent and my parents recount the story, and it's amazing to me that my brain is selectively editing out this trauma. I have no memory of even going to the beach that day, let alone most of my week in the hospital.
My dreams have been coming lucidly though, and unconsciously I think I am venturing into scary places I could have gone.
This weekend I had a dream that I was no longer able to move my legs, no matter how hard I tried. This kind of paralysis could have happened. It is really amazing that my body bounced back as it did.
Last night I dreamed that I was underwater and not able to breathe. There was panic and fright in the dream that I don't recall from the actual event. Little by little maybe my brain is helping me understand the depth of what I went through.

Trent gave me a pair of pearl earrings when I returned home. He handed me a small wooden box, and told me these were something beautiful that came from the ocean. My eyes well up when I think of what he must have gone through with me that morning on the beach, with my lips blue and my pulse lost. He has been extraordinary though this whole thing.