The Storm

Remember that Baz Lurhman graduation song/speech about wearing sunscreen that was floating around everywhere around 1999?  For some strange reason, I still remember all the words. There was a line in it that said:

Don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying about the future is about as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 3PM on some idle Tuesday.

That silly lyric has been floating around in my head for the past 365 days.  Why?  Because I was almost killed at exactly 3:00 PM on Tuesday, March 13th, 2012.

Since I began this blog back in June, I have written several times about the car crash that hit me like a bullet (in more ways than one) and how it is one of the biggest reasons we ended up here in Utah.  As yesterday marked one year since the day it happened, Pete and I decided we wanted to take the day to celebrate the fact that I am alive, the fact that we are together, and the fact that our lives have changed so drastically for the better since that day.  So we spent the whole afternoon and evening together with our children to relax and reflect.  We had a picnic in the park, we ate delicious cupcakes at Sweet Tooth Fairy, we strolled through a fun store, we went out for dinner and we walked downtown to get gelato for dessert.  Then as the day was coming to a close late last night, I realized that I have never actually written about what happened that day, or how it led us here.  I have talked about it with friends, I have talked about it with Pete many many times, but seeing as how this blog is supposed to be serving as my personal journal, I decided I needed to write it all down before it all fades away (not likely with my superhuman memory, but you never know). So here goes.
(PSA: This post will be very long, and it is mostly written for my own personal record keeping, so you are free to just stop reading here. Or keep going if you are like me and need something to keep your zombie mind alive until the baby's next feeding.)

***

My car broke down (beyond repair) at the beginning of March and Pete and were left with no vehicle other than Pete’s motorcycle.  Nathan generously gave me his car to borrow for a while until we could figure out what to do, so I was driving his car when the accident happened.  On March 13th, I took Ryan to his new preshcool for the first time and then drove to Cheyenne Traditional School in Scottsdale where I was finishing my student teaching.  I had an awesome day at school doing one of the best lessons I had ever taught - it involved putting duct tape down the middle of the room to divide the class into east and west Berlin and I recreated the Berlin airlift with candy dropped from the air (yeah, you know you want to be one of my students).   I have no memory of my last class of the day however, and no memory of leaving school.  Everything that happened between roughly 1:30 and 7:00 pm I only know because it was told to me by other people.

I was driving on the Loop 101 in between Scottsdale and Mesa at 3:00, only one exit away from picking up Ryan at preschool, when I was hit by a 21 year old in a Camaro driving 120 MPH.  According to the police and witnesses, he had been driving that speed and swerving in and out of traffic for several miles before he smashed straight into the back of my brother's car. My head hit the steering wheel and I was immediately knocked unconscious.  My car was propelled across the two lanes of traffic to my left before I smashed into a second car (which then hit a truck in the HOV lane), then I was bounced in the opposite direction and smashed into yet another car before I came to a stop perpendicular to traffic one mile beyond where I was hit.  Every inch of the car was destroyed, except the driver’s seat.  Ryan’s car seat was directly behind me, and was completely unrecognizable.  The entire trunk of the car and backseats were pushed up against the back of the front two seats.  The dashboard/stereo/speakers dislodged entirely and flew out toward me.  Every tire was slashed and every window was broken. 

I was not unconscious for very long, but I was completely incoherent and had no short term memory for several hours.  The only memory I have of the accident itself is screaming to a paramedic to find my son and tell me if he was okay, which he or she obviously could not do considering Ryan was not in the car with me, but I could not comprehend that fact.  It is amazing how even in the midst of trauma, a mother's brain focuses on one thing above all else - her children.  Ryan was the only thought I remember being capable of.  I could not tell anyone my own name, yet I could tell them my son's name and that he was five years old.  Even to this day, I still cry when I allow myself to remember the panic in my heart that I felt wondering if he was hurt or dead.  The paramedics and doctors at the hospital had to keep telling me over and over that he was not in the car to keep me from being hysterical.  

Pete got the call from the hospital two minutes after he got off work, he called Nathan first to let him know what happened and then called Jayne to go pick up Ryan. He later told me that his biggest fear, knowing I had a head injury, was that I would not know who he was.  But he told me that when I first saw him in the hospital I burst into tears and held my arm out for him, which meant I knew exactly who he was, so he cried out of relief for a moment too.

I apparently asked Pete (and every nurse and doctor) many times what had happened, why I was driving Nathan’s car, and if Ryan was alive. I was not fully coherent until around 7:00 that night, but I have a few vivid memories of certain things before then such as getting the stitches in my leg, sobbing hysterically when I tried to talk to Nathan on the phone, and telling some radiology tech that I wished he was George Clooney. I remember almost everything from about 8:00 on...and every single moment of it was incredibly painful.  I had a severe concussion, several broken ribs, swelling in my spinal muscles, my right wrist was broken, I had a six inch gash in my ankle/Achilles tendon that required stitches, severe bruising all over my body, several small cuts, the skin on my back was burned from the friction of the seat, and my back and ribs were in so much pain that I could barely even move for two days.  I was hospitalized for five days to check for any more serious spinal or neurological injuries, and when it was time to go home, I felt like the world was falling apart around me.

We had no car to drive me home from the hospital or for me to return to teaching (not like I could anyway).  Pete had his motorcycle to get to and from work, but no ability to take Ryan to preschool.  We had less than $100 in the bank, no medical insurance, and we made only $200 too much to qualify for medicaid.  We couldn't even afford one of my prescriptions for painkillers so I did the best I could on the cheaper ones that we could pay for.  I walked on a cane for a week, had a cast on my arm for eight weeks, and had severe pain in my back and ribs for months.  I was six weeks away from finishing my student teaching and graduating - and ASU policy only allotted me three days of absences.  I was initially told I would have to repeat my student teaching semester again in the fall and that I would have to postpone graduation by six months, but thankfully my advisors fought hard for me so that I could graduate on time. Even so, I was in the hospital when I was supposed to take my teaching certification exams, so even with my degree I was unable to teach for an entire year. I was eventually able to return to school, thanks to Josh and Heather who gave us their sixteen-year-old Mustang, but I had to do so while battling PTSD, depression, pain and overwhelming stress. 

But despite all the awful moments that followed March 13th, not a single day passed that I did not marvel at the miracles which occurred that day.  

It was a true miracle that I survived and that I did so with only minor injuries.  It was a miracle that Ryan was not in the car with me, because he would have been killed instantly.  It was a miracle that the air bag, for some reason, did not deploy, for if it had, it most likely would have broken my neck.  There was no explanation for how the tiny space in the car that my small body took up was the only space that was not destroyed.  No explanation other than the belief that my Mother’s angel arms were holding me, and that God had better things in store for me.  I have no doubt in my mind that my guardian angels – my mother and two grandmothers – saved my life that day, and that belief is what changed my life.

After the first several weeks of recovery were behind us, Pete and I both began to feel that the accident was purposefully put in our lives to serve as a catalyst for change.  As most people do after traumatic experiences, I realized how fragile life is and how quickly it can be taken away - and I felt that I was taking my life for granted by living every day unhappy and stressed and waiting for change like I had been for years.  We both felt so incredibly grateful that I was alive, and we felt that we needed to make the required changes in our lives to live up to such a blessing.  We wanted to be happier, to have a better marriage, to be better people. After March 13th, I felt very strongly that we had been given a gift that we could not waste by staying in the miserable place we had been in for so long. I believed that the first step was to get out of Arizona, so I went crazy searching for jobs for Pete in Utah and Colorado.  Three weeks later he had a job offer that almost doubled his salary and we moved to Utah exactly eight weeks from the day of the accident. We moved into a place we love, we started going back to church, I began praying again, I made friends, I let myself breathe. And I have tried to never look back.

It has not been easy. The insurance lawsuit to get my medical bills paid took ten long months to settle.  The guy who hit me has had his trial postponed twice and is supposed to finally face a jury for the felony charge of aggravated assault next month.  I am still afraid to drive on busy roads and highways.  I still get occasional dizzy spells from the concussion.  I still cry when I remember certain parts of that day a year ago.  But my brother got to buy his dream car, Pete and I got to buy a brand new car that is completely paid for, my debt is all paid off, and we get to go on a vacation this summer.  And my entire perspective on life has changed. So I think it balances out.

"And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive.  You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over.  But one thing is certain.  When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in." 

(Unkown)

I have survived many storms in my life. This is only one of many that has defined who I am. 

And whenever many more come my way, I know I will survive them too.