May 09, 2008 13:40
Ten years ago today, I was a depressed, weird 16 year old girl. I living out in the middle of the desert with my father, him and my mother had recently divorced. My entire life revolved around school. I was in love with a 20 year old boy named Jacob... he treated me horribly, but I didn't care. My weekends consisted of hanging out with one of my 2 friends- Joanie, a superficial teeny bopper who's only cares in life were boys and new clothes, and my oldest friend, Marie, who at 16 was already married and the mother of 2 young boys. I had anything but a "typical" teenage life.
On May 9th 1998, I set out on the road to buy my mom a Mother's Day present. My pop loaned me his 1978 Pontiac Phoenix to drive. It was his baby with only 19,000 original miles on it. To me, it was just a big assed car with red leather interior that stuck to my legs in the summertime.
So, I was driving along and going about 70mph down a long stretch of single lane desert highway. The air was warm and dry that day and the sun was blinding. I heard a rattle on my driver's door, and I took my eyes off the road for few seconds. When I looked back up, I had accidently swerved into the opposite lane of incoming traffic. I was about 5 seconds away from a head on collision with a large white pickup truck. I yanked the wheel quickly to get back into my lane. In doing so, my car did about three 360's on the road, and the speed alone, spiraled my car end over end into a large 25 foot ditch on the side of the road. In mid air, I was ejected, Superman style, through the passenger side window. I landed in a pile of sagebrush. I woke up, looking at the car about 20 ft away from me, smoking and resembling a crumbled up piece of paper. My body was tingling everywhere, and the only thing on my mind was "oh crap my pop is going to kill me!".
I started screaming for help. Some nearby dirt-bikers stopped and called 911. It felt like I was in that sagebrush forever. Over what seemed like hours, more and more people started showing up. Staring at me with frightened looks. My pop showed up, he was crying and screaming, "it'll be okay, it'll be okay". Ambulances, police, then a helicopter. The paramedics arrived to turn me over and put me on a gurney, my legs were bent, and I can still remember the sound of my broken bones rubbing together as they straightened my legs. It was the most extreme pain I've ever felt in my life.
The helicopter ride seemed to last forever as well, all I wanted was a Slurpee during the entire ride. I was crying and begging the paramedics for one! I found out the entire 40 mile trip was only 7 minutes long. Once in the hospital, I was in and out of it for 3 days in ICU. Those first days were a blur of crying and pain, and seeing my mom and pop come into and out of my hospital room. I had broken my left femur in 3 places, lightly fractured my right one... shattered my hip and twisted my pubic bone in a bizarre fashion, and I had severe lacerations on my right arm and head in addition to having road rash all over my body. The only part of me that wasn't damaged was my face. Pretty good for flying head first out of a window.
Over the next month, I had to relearn everything, how to walk, how to eat, how to go to the bathroom. My body wasn't my own anymore, it seemed to belong to doctors, nurses and therapists. I had more IV's than I knew what to do with, and I received 4 shots daily in my stomach to prevent blood clots. In the first 2 weeks, I received 3 blood transfusions. After 5 weeks, I had lost 50lbs.
That summer between 11th and 12th grade was a slow one. My friends got sick of visiting me, and my boyfriend dumped me while I was still in the hospital. I lost my computer (it was in the car at the time of the accident) and our family's only car. I was wheelchair bound for the entire summer and for the next 2 years I had to walk with a cane to get around. A year after the accident, my femur still hadn't healed, and I need a 2nd surgery on it. I still get achey from the metal rods in my leg, and my left leg is a full inch longer than my right one now... and often I get asked about the large scar on my right arm. It's really hard to believe that it's already been 10 years since that day. The doctor's say if I had been wearing my seatbelt, I would have suffered major head trauma and died. It's funny how one miniscule decision pretty much saved my existence.
In honor of my life and that horrifying day, I never wear a seat belt on May 9th. I'm so grateful for the last 10 years... graduating highschool and college, going on crazy road trips all over the country, meeting Duder and Josh, 2 of my bestest friends, getting to experience all that I have... and all of this just for forgetting to wear my seatbelt. Life is crazy sometimes, and I'm thankful I'm still apart of it.