On April 18th, 2009 I headed home from
Damon’s house. It was late Friday night/Saturday morning and we had just
watched most of Supersize Me. Damon
and I had only been dating for about a month and a half, but I was getting
pretty comfortable with the commute from his house in Draper to my house in Orem. I was
driving on I15 through AF in the left lane when a vehicle from the carpool lane
swerved into my lane. Automatically, I
swerved so I wouldn’t get hit. I over corrected, and ended up losing control of the family suburban. I remember looking up at the lights of the
overpass ahead and realizing that I wasn’t going to be able to regain
control. The next few hours are still completely lost for me, but here is what
I am told.
The suburban crossed three lanes of traffic, rolled down an
embankment and flipped end-over-end landing upside down in a parking lot. There was a man who saw the suburban leave the
road. Witnesses said that he stopped his car on the side of the freeway and ran over the now torn down fence, down
the embankment, and into the parking lot where the suburban landed. He called 911. Somehow I was able to give him my dad’s cell phone number and he called my
dad. I don’t know how old he was, what he looked like, or where he was going on
the freeway that night. What I do know, is that his name was Spencer. As he waited for the emergency vehicles to arrive, he got down on the ground next
to me, he held my hand and he prayed that I would be okay. I don’t know exactly
what it is about this that makes me so weepy. Maybe it’s the fact that I was a
complete stranger to him. Maybe it’s the realization that my Heavenly Father,
for many reasons, couldn’t keep the accident from happening that night, but
still he provided for me exactly what I needed. I am humbled and eternally
grateful.
By the time my dad arrived, the ambulance and other
emergency vehicles were already there. It took 45 minutes and the Jaws of Life
to remove me from the suburban. My dad said the emergency crew was SO good and
SO happy when I was finally out and they were able to determine that I was
stable. I had an obvious head injury and was complaining that my back
hurt. They were concerned about a possible spinal injury and with my dad’s
go-ahead, called in life-flight. I was taken to Utah Valley Regional Medical
Center where I underwent numerous tests. I have a few tiny memories of my time at the hospital. I
remember a sweet nurse telling me that I was going to be okay and they would
get me somewhere more comfortable soon. I also remember waking up and seeing my
dad standing over me. He sat with me and picked dirt and glass out of my hair
for hours waiting for news. He also had to answer me over and over again as I
repeatedly asked what happened. (I feel unfathomably guilty for putting him
through that. All of it) After 5 or 6 hours of testing, waiting, a tetanus
shot, and pain killers I was discharged. I was wheeled out of the hospital but walked into my house on my own. I was diagnosed with a compression
fracture to my T5 vertebrae, which they couldn’t do anything for. I also had a
significant concussion and a cut on my right hand which required 7 stitches.
I have the most amazing family in the world. I mentioned
before that I have a lot of guilt about what I put my family through, even
though I had no control over it, the knowledge of what that night was for them
makes me sick. My life has changed in so many ways since April of 2009. I am
grateful EVERY DAY for the beautiful life I have and the love I share with my
family.
I ended up using a back brace for about a month, against my will. The
fracture was in such an odd place that they weren’t really sure how to help. So
the goal was just to keep it from getting any worse. I had to quit my job at
the fabric store and spent three long months unemployed and recovering. After wearing the back brace I started physical therapy and continued that for 8 months. I continue to see a chiropractor about once a
month. Other than being a bit achy after exerting myself, I have no physical symptoms or signs that I was ever in an accident that serious. Now I have a daily reminder that the Lord has a plan for me, in the form of a scar on my right hand.
Here I am in my "Buddy" as Damon nicked named it.
Here I am in my "Buddy" as Damon nicked named it.
Here are some more pictures. THESE make me cry. I have some sort of emotional attachment to this suburban. For months after the accident, any time I saw a truck of the similar model in a similar color my heart would stop.
