Blog 2. Four Seconds

Time. I never thought too much about it until it consumed me. Everyone always says they want more of it, they want to go back in time or even stop it. However, most people don’t have to think about what 4 seconds could do to you. How 4 measly seconds could mean any amount of importance in anyone’s life. You can’t do many life-altering things in 4 seconds; you can’t do much of anything. You can’t write an award-winning book, you can’t cook a full meal, get a college degree, hell, you can’t even get a good kiss in 4 seconds. But you know what life-changing thing you can do in 4 or fewer seconds?

Die.

Four seconds, well less than 4, but I round up because less time makes it feel even more ridiculous. Never in my life did I think 4 seconds would mean so much to me. That was the amount of time it took for chaos to unfold on the highway as a large pickup truck drove straight through a median trying to beat the oncoming traffic. I was going highway speeds (100 km/h) which gave me no time to attempt to stop once I saw him.

I was coming up the number 12 highway, just minutes away from my home. I came to what I now know is one of my province’s most dangerous intersections, which never ceases to amaze me considering it is wide open. No visual obstructions, no confusing signs or ways to turn, just a regular intersection over 4 lanes of highway traffic. I drove through it probably hundreds of times in my life with no issue, but that’s just it, you never think it’s going to be you.

As I came up to the intersection, I saw this white vehicle speeding towards the median out of the corner of my eye, (keep in mind I was going 100kms an hour, so this thought process happened in less than milliseconds before I realized what was happening.) The left lane was wide open so I assumed/hoped this person was making a fast turn before I realized he wasn’t turning because he was in front of me.

 I T-boned him, a violent symphony of metal on metal, airbags exploding, to nothing. There was no sound at all. It really was just like in the movies after an explosion when there is this momentary eerie quiet. The loudest silence I had ever heard then the ringing in my ears took over, until all I could hear was the sound of my muffled screams.

I want you to think about that kind of speed coming to a dead stop, It was like a sledgehammer to the chest. I was lucid through most, if not all, of the accident. So I unfortunately know what that impact feels like, it haunts me to this day. Anytime I need to quickly stop or slow down I hold my breath, my stomach feels like it’s in my throat, I close my eyes, lean away, and brace for impact. So every detail that comes next, I was aware and conscious. Every terrifying and excruciating moment that came next, I remember.

There was this “holy shit, I was just in an accident” moment, then the part I have never talked about. I thought it was my fault, that maybe I fell asleep at the wheel, maybe I ran a red light in my post nightshift delirious state. I think we have all been there before, whether it be from a drive home from work, school, or any long day, you just arrive at home, not knowing how you got there and just realizing “holy crap, I’m home. How did I even get here?”

I thought I caused this, and just as this wave of guilt and dread engulfed me I realized this terrible pain somewhere in my lower midsection and then quickly realized I could not breathe. That last muffled scream sucked all the remaining oxygen out of my lungs leaving me gasping. Each gasp sucking in what felt like a cloud of smoke. That’s when panic set in. I have never been in any sort of accident, so I did not know that when airbags deploy, they kind of give off this dust to them, and the smell, it’s like fire, but not a campfire, I don’t know how to explain it. I felt so hot, knowing now I was feeling the heat of the engine fill my car, but at the time I had no idea. So, I thought my car was on fire, and if that doesn’t terrify a person, I don’t know what will.

I was frantic, I quickly ran my hand over my head and face looking down at my hand, no blood “That’s good” I thought, no open head injury, I remember thinking I knew who I was, who Ryan was, and who my family was “that’s good no obvious brain injury” or so I thought. I then quickly reached for my driver-side door to escape, feeling for the handle or where it should have been, and nothing. Looking and seeing my door wasn’t where it should have been, realizing my left leg was pushed up behind me somehow. I shoved my leg down, thinking I’d have more room but the door was jammed, so I leaned for the passenger door but quickly realized I couldn’t reach it or hardly move for that matter. I was pinned to my seat by the dash. I was 5’1, so I already had my seat all the way forward to reach the pedals, but now the steering wheel pushed into my chest, the windshield unusually close to me, only where there was once a clear view, a firework pattern of shattered glass remained.

Let this serve as your reminder to drive with both feet planted on the ground. Again, I am a nurse I have seen and know the horrors of driving with your feet up, either on the dash or seat. (Broken pelvis’s, shattered femurs, tib fibs that can result in amputations)  My right foot was on the gas, however, I was getting terrible post-night shift leg cramps, and literally, as I came up to the intersection I brought my left leg up onto my seat, almost in a crisscross apple sauce kinda stance to alleviate the cramp. So on impact when the dash came toward me it caught my foot, being the driving force that propelled my leg behind me.

Then the pain, the pain was and is truly indescribable. Shock kept me lucid, shock kept me awake, shock normally helps you not to feel pain as well, but I guess I had run out of favors with the big man upstairs because I felt what I now know was my burst and crushed lower spine. Every minor move felt like I was being cut in half, trying to scream but hardly any sound was coming out. As a nurse, I thought I broke my pelvis given my leg was behind me after impact, and nursing fun fact here, a pelvis is pretty vascular, and you can bleed out from a broken pelvis. So add that to the list of my stress as I palpated my abdomen to find it hard to the touch. Which is not a good sign in the medical realm, It can indicate internal bleeding. The one thing shock did do that I find comical in a way now, was that it didn’t allow me to immediately realize I couldn’t feel my legs. I did notice how heavy my arms were, but I thought I was just getting weak from an assumed pelvic fracture that had me bleeding into my abdomen. Boy, was I wrong… I was so wrong.

Honestly, I was so focused on the pain that nothing else mattered. It was the kind of pain that will haunt me for as long as I live. A scar etched into my brain just as deep as the physical ones left on my body. It drives my PTSD some days, knowing I will never be able to endure that type of pain or terror again. Knowing I was at peace with dying if it meant that pain would stop. Can you imagine pain so severe you’d offer your life up like a bargaining chip, just to make it stop?

 It makes getting back in a car again hard knowing any time I do, there is a chance it could happen again. On the days when my chronic back pain becomes severe, I know my night will be filled with the horrors that unfolded on the highway that day. An instant replay if you will, it’s like my brain remembers the exact moment I realized how much pain I was in. Because the nightmares on those nights don’t start from the moment of impact. They start when I was trying so hard to lift my body weight off my pelvis and bum, trying to push down on the seat with both arms desperately trying to offload the weight, but I felt like I weighed 1000 pounds. My arms running out of strength, Trying to scream but hardly any sound would come. At this point, I didn’t know if the pain was taking my breath away, the lack of space my chest had to expand against the steering wheel, or the lack of fresh air in the car.

 The worst part is I will live with back pain for the rest of my life, “that’s just an unfortunate fact now” I was told. So again, another scar left on my body and mind to remind me day and night what happened to me. It reminds Ryan as well since he’s the one comforting my screams in the middle of the night.

People have asked me to try and explain in detail to them, to try and help them understand the pain and I don’t know that I can or ever will be able to. That’s not me being dramatic either, I have broken many bones in my life and had many injuries and nothing compares. Nothing will ever compare to a shattered spine from top to bottom. The pain in my lower midsection was paralyzing both literally and figuratively, so much I didn’t realize how bad my neck hurt or how heavy my head felt.

Keep in mind the length of time it took you to read this far was probably the same amount of time, if not less, this all happened in. There it is again, time. If felt like hours that I was stuck gasping in that car, sure every next breath would be my last. How time stood still for me while I was in that car, yet continued so normally for everyone else outside.

I saw my phone still attached to the charging cord, jammed in the cup holder. I tried to call Ryan multiple times, realizing how hard it was to get my fingers to work. I prepared to tell him I was in an accident, prepared to say goodbye. I needed him to know how much I loved him, and needed him to tell my family the same, because I knew my mom and dad would never recover from a phone call like that.. but no answer. Again imagine preparing to call your loved ones to say goodbye. It was a pain almost as great as the physical.

 This is when the terrifying reality set in. I was trapped, thinking my car was on fire, thinking I was likely bleeding out into my abdomen, I started screaming for help with every ounce of air I could muster, surprised to hear my own voice now. This is when I just threw my hands in the air, looked up at my broken windshield, and asked my deceased papa, a man we lost far too soon (another one of my traumas) “Papa please don’t let me die alone in here” and as if to tell me right then, that I was not alone that whole time, with the help of my grandpa Geezer, and the army of all my loved ones passed, I was being protected.

It was at that moment, just as the words “alone in here” came out of my mouth I heard the most angelic “Hello”

I had ever heard.