My two brothers, and two friends and I were giving my grandma a ride home that night, in my mom's Opal Cadette, when we saw an oncoming truck swerving over into our lane. Ken, the friend who was driving, started slowing down and pulling over toward the ditch beside the highway. That ditch was right up against the side of a hill, and Ken had pulled all the way into the ditch and come to full stop when that 3/4 ton truck hit us and went right over the top of our car. Ken and my grandma, who was sitting behind him, were both killed instantly. I had been sitting on the console between the front bucket seats, and some part of that truck hit me in the face, knocking me back between the seats. The only way my brothers, and the one friend, could get out of the car afterward was to climb out through the broken windshield. My brother Bryan heard me choking, and he sat me upright so that I could breathe, before he got out of the car. Witnesses said that the drunk driver who hit us was going at least 85 mph, and although he had tried to keep going after his truck had driven over our car, his truck was too damaged. So after my brother Scott had caught a ride in a passing car to call for help, the drunk driver got out of his truck to get a look at our car. He was coming toward the car, and flicking his lighter, and my brother Bryan yelled at him to stop. The drunk was saying, "I want to see." Bryan jumped onto the hood of the car, slid off the other side, slapped the lighter out of the drunk's hand and pushed him to the ground. So my 14 year old brother saved my life twice that night. Once by sitting me upright so that I wasn't choking on my own blood, and again by stopping that drunk driver before he could light all that gas on fire and blow up the car I was in.
I've been told that my heart stopped twice at the scene of the accident, and that the EMT's from the ambulance had to insert a tracheotomy so that I could breathe. The impact of that truck hitting me in the face had knocked several of my teeth out, and I guess I had inhaled them. My heart also stopped a third time in the ambulance on the way into the hospital. Hospital personel realized that they were not equipped to help me, so they immediately called for a helicoptor to fly me to a larger hospital about 70 miles away.
I had at least 4 surgeries during my first few days in the hospital, and I was in a coma for 6 days after the accident. During that time, my family was told not to expect me to live. When I didn't die right away, they were then told that if I did survive, I would probably be brain dead. I'm happy to say that I proved all of those doctors wrong! When I woke up in the Intensive Care Unit, I was never allowed to have more than one person at a time in my room. I guess my brain couldn't handle the stimulation. My jaw had been broken in the accident and was wired shut. I've also been told that no one was allowed to sit in a certain chair in my room because I always said that's where grandma was sitting. Which was probably pretty hard with a tracheotomy in my throat and my jaw wired shut. But my mom told me that I would cover the trach with my hand and say, "Get off grandma!" with my teeth clenched. No one was allowed to tell me that grandma had died, because the doctors were afraid of what affect it might have on my recovery. I now believe that God allowed my grandma's spirit to be there in the hospital with me.
After I left the Intensive Care Unit, I had to remain in the hospital, in the Rehabilitation Unit for therapy. I had physical therapy twice a day, speech therapy twice a day, recreational therapy twice a day, and occupational therapy once a day. I remained in the hospital for three and a half months after the accident, but I can only remember my last couple of weeks there. It was like one day I woke up, but nothing seemed unfamiliar to me.
When I was released to go home, my husband (ex husband now) was told that I needed to continue my therapies on an out-patient basis. He was also told that we should have someone staying in the home with us for the first couple of months, to keep an eye on me while I was taking care of our year old baby, both of which he agreed to. But after he had gotten me home, he informed me that he didn't believe I needed any further therapy, and most of the time, I was left alone with the baby. Considering all the things that could have gone wrong, I am so thankful that nothing bad happened!
I still live with the effects of that night every day of my life, but I am so grateful that I survived! I am also very grateful to the wonderful people that I have met on this web site! I thank all of them for making me realize that I am not alone!
