Crash and Burn

Place: Just outside Independence, Oregon

Date: Wednesday, November 24. Day before Thanksgiving.

Time: Approximately 7:00 PM.

Event: The unraveling of the old and beginning of the new...

I still do not know all the details. I was in and out of consciousness. I was in and out of reality. That evening is a blur of lights, people, voices, activities. The exact timeline is unknown. This is what I remember. But I cannot swear to it being the exact chain of events.

Rude Awakening. Where was I? What was I doing? I left my place of employment for the trip home. When did I purchase the alcohol? When did I drink it? How much of it did I consume? I have no memory of even leaving the parking lot. It is not that I was bombed out of my mind at that point. I just cannot remember. I do not remember getting onto 99W, the highway that takes me most of the way home. I know I used 99W because the night before I-5 was jammed and I sat on the Tualatin onramp for 45 minutes (at least) as the interstate became a parking lot.

I do not remember anything until the impact. Everything was black. I heard the sudden crunch of metal. I knew I had hit something. My initial thought was "dammit...I hit a car". Then I remember that it dawned on me that I had had something to drink. How much? When? I could not remember. I thought that I had not drunk anything while I was driving. Or had I? I was in a fog.

I opened my eyes and looked forward. What did I see? My mind will not let me remember. I put my head on the steering wheel and said, "Dammit! Dammit!" I cannot remember seeing my right leg at all. I cannot remember seeing anything. I do have a memory of thinking the dashboard of the car was too close to me.   I had no idea what I had hit. I could not see beyond the smashed in windshield. I felt no real pain, except my left leg was pinned between the door and the driver's seat. It felt tightly wedged, but I do not remember any pain.

Someone came to my door and tried to open in. I did not see him. I could not tell you what he looked like. All I recall is having my head on the steering wheel. And I was thinking I was fucked. Totally fucked. Why did I drink? When did I black out? How long had I been sailing down 99W South, towards Salem, with the cruise control set at, I guess, about 67mph? What the hell did I hit? The man told me it was okay, and I think he said help was coming soon. I am not too sure.

I heard a "whoosh". I knew that sound. It was fire. I looked up and saw flames. They seemed both right in front of me and yet miles away. I was having trouble keeping focused in reality. Was this really me? Could I have been this goddam stupid? I never tried to exit the van. I don't know why. As soon as the fire started, the man at the door (the window must have been smashed because I did not roll it down, yet I knew it was wide open) suddenly grabbed me around the chest and pulled as hard as he could to try to get me out. I don't remember the pain. I do know I screamed. And I know I screamed because of the pain. He could not get me out. My leg was still pinned. Later, upon visualizing the leg, I realize the leg was actually wrapped around the seat. A leg cannot bend that way. But I could not register this at this time. Another man, I cannot see him either, put the fire out with an extinguisher. I realize I am cold. Very cold. I am shivering.

Paramedics arrive, I think. I hear a man say he is surprised to see "anyone alive in there." Someone new approaches my door. I seem to be floating in and out of reality. Time seems to be meaningless. I still don't know what exactly has happened. This person, I *think* I looked at him and saw the a firefighter in uniform, told me they would have me out in about 15 minutes. They tried to get the door but realized they had to cut it off. Next thing I recall is the sound of the machine cutting away at the van.

Was it a long wait? I don't know. Next thing I remember is them using the Jaws of Life to pry the door off my leg. Then people pulling me out. I know I looked around and could see the breath of people around me. I can almost recall hearing the sound of emergency vehicles as they came to my aid. I think I recall getting a neck brace put on. I don't remember being placed in the ambulance. (Today, my memory tells me this ambulance ride was a year ago. Even though it was only 2 months agao.) Someone kept talking to me, telling me, "C'mon, stay with me!" At one point he made a joke. I don't know what it was. The ride was both long and short. I feel that I was in the ambulance for a while. Yet my memory has me going from the car, a moment later in the ambulance, and a moment later I was laying on my back....somewhere. I kept hearing women (nurses?) speaking all around me. I don't remember pain or much of anything. I was shivering violently. A woman put a blanket over me.

I was thinking that life as I knew it was over. I looked up and saw my wife, Kim. Oh, how disappointed she must be. I knew, at that point, that she was going to leave me. I remember crying and telling her I was so sorry. She kissed me and told me it would be okay. Next, I remember a patrolman standing over me. He asked if I had something to drink. I said yes. He looked almost angry. Or that is how my brain saw it. He said my blood alcohol was at least twice the legal limit. I recall thinking, "How could it be that high?" I had no memory of taking a drink while I was driving. But then, I don't even remember driving. He told me I was under arrest for DUII. He walked over and handed my wife the citation. I looked at her face and saw the look of disbelief, disappointment, and anger. I looked away. I knew I had hurt her more that I had ever dreamed possible. I felt my meaningless life was now over. I had destroyed all that I valued most.

I woke again long enough to hear two women talking.  One asked if I had something to drink. I said, "Yeah, a little bit." She said, "It was more than a little bit." I woke again as someone was trying to put a tube down my throat. I began to struggle as it was setting off my gag reflex. I vomited.  The tube was pulled out and I felt someone cleaning my face. "I wonder why he did that?", one woman asked. "I guess it was just something he had to do.", said another woman.  Then I was gone again.

I opened my eyes. I was in a bed. I looked at the clock and it said, I believe, around 6 o'clock. I thought it was still the night of the 24th. Even though that would be impossible. In fact, I had no concept of the passage of time. I had no idea when or where I really was. Or what was wrong with me. Somehow, I knew I needed surgery on my leg. I could see my right leg in a plaster splint. I had no idea why. My left leg was attached to a contraction that required a pump, but the pump part was missing. (They ran short and I had to wait to get one). I had no idea what was wrong with me. I know I was in a LOT of pain. I was not on a morphine drip. (A device where, when I was in pain, I could press a button to get a dose.) A nurse came in and gave me pills for pain. I was told I got them every couple hours and if needed, I could call for more. I recall I did several times over the next couple days.

I didn't know if Kim, my wife, would show. Perhaps she had packed up and left already. When I woke, no one was there. I thought odds were good I was on my own now. Then I was totally confounded that it seemed to be getting lighter. I wished they would come and get the surgery over with. Why were they waiting? I have no idea who informed me, or when, that I had the two bones in my right ankle broken and my left femur was snapped. Several doctors floated into the room. They seemed very interested in my abdomen. They kept asking if I felt pain. And that as soon as I did, if I did, to let them know immediately. That was a bit frightening.  I also had a catheter installed. I remember lying there, confused as to why it was getting lighter, wondering why I wasn't going to surgery, and wondering what I was supposed to do when I had to urinate. And why, after several hours, I still didn't have to.

From time to time, every couple hours at first, then about every four hours, someone would come in, introduce themselves as my nurse (I had several, all of whom were very nice), check my oxygen level, blood pressure, and heart rate, then ask me to rate my pain. Since the oxygen was lower than they liked, I had a tube stuck in my nose blowing air. It was wrapped oddly around my head and made my left ear hurt. I kept readjusting it. After the third day, I think, this was removed. I think the foot pump for my left leg was finally installed on the second or third day. The new nurse would always ask me why I had it attached to my foot with no pump.

My body began to recover. My heart rate was over 120 at first. This concerned the doctors. It kept going down. When I left the hospital, it was still around 110. A couple times, my blood pressure was a little high. But they attributed this to pain reaction. I was off the oxygen on the third day. I was given a device to inhale from. This was designed to make me breathe more deeply and improve my oxygen level. It actually hit 100% once before I left. I recall that the first two days, when asked to rate my pain, I would give an 8 or 9 out of 10. When I left, five days later, I was around 5-6. When I took the pain meds (percocet - I took two pills) it would drop to about a 2. I think the catheter and collection bag were removed after the second day. As I said, my timeline is messed up in my head.

One unpleasant aspect of the time in hospital was that I was really constipated. It felt uncomfortable especially after two days. They began giving me stool softeners. They didn't seem to work. They offered suppositories, which I accepted I think on the fourth day. Seemingly to no effect. I was introduced to the sliding board. This is a wooden board with tapered ends and holes in each end for your hands. I used it to slide from the bedside to the wheelchair. A physical therapist would supervise this procedure. It was very painful in the hospital. I had to do this at least once a day. On my last day, before Kim came to pick me up, I said I wanted to try the commode. They put it next to the bed and I slid onto it using the board. The physical therapist said she would return to see how I was doing. She left about 11:15am, I think. It was very painful to sit. She popped in about 11:45am to check my progress. I said I was still trying. I sat there for THREE almost unbearable hours. But I did finally go. And THAT was painful. But I did feel much better afterwards. A nurse finally came and asked if I wanted back on the bed or on the wheelchair. I chose the wheelchair.

More bad news. Several months prior to the accident, I had a physical. The doctor could only find my cholesterol elevated. He had me trying Lipitor. My level was under 100. This surprised anyone I told. Why was I on Lipitor if my cholesterol was under 100? Anyway, the first couple days I was sucking down the orange juice and for breakfast I had cereal with sugar on it. So, I was shocked when a doctor came in to ask if I new I was diabetic. I was stunned. I recall saying something like, "Uh, no?" He said my blood sugar tested at 371. Normal, I think he said, was 70 - 120. I was put on a sliding scale. If I tested over 225, I got insulin shots. I was tested often. Three times, I was over 225. The first nurse gave me a shot in the hip. She had me roll over (VERY painful!). The second time, I got it in the arm. I noted that the needle was very short and I didn't feel it at all. The third time, a doctor came in to discuss diabetes with me. He tested me and showed me how to give myself a shot. He gave it to me in the stomach just below the navel. He said that was the proper place. It didn't hurt. The good news was that he decided that once home, I would eat better and exercise and that would help keep levels down. So he decided to put me on glucophage pills. One in the morning, one at night. No need for insulin yet. But its was definitely news that changed my life even more.

I recall that in the hospital the first couple days, I drank a gallon of orange juice. I couldn't get enough. I had to call for room service. I would get cereal with sugar and milk and orange juice for breakfast. For dinners, I had salty meatloaf, salty beef roast, salty hamburger and I could only eat half of anything, if even that much. But on that first morning, which I thought was evening, I think I went back to sleep. I was awakened, it seemed, as soon as I started getting into some good sleep. Constant blood pressure checks, cleaning of the IV site on my left hand (felt weird as they injected saline into it), heart rate checks, oxygen level checks, and whatever else they did. I was happy once they removed the IV site. The nurse said she didn't understand why it was still there after three (?) days and removed it. It was next to a big, dried-blood covered would on the back on my left hand. They never did treat that wound.

One other injury that I was aware of, only after the first day or two, was the tip of the ring finger of my left hand. There was a mark under the fingernail. The tip of the finger was discolored and seemed singed. And it was painful to the touch. Kim thought maybe it was broken. It took several weeks before it felt better. I think she may have been right. Another injury that I became aware of in the hospital, but was the least worried about was that my genitals felt odd. I thought it was due to the catheter. Once I got home, over time, this went away. (Our new doctor theorized that because of the other trauma, my body was telling me that I had other things to heal first before even thinking about sex.) Also, after I got home and the pain eased off, I realized a good portion of my penis was numb. Even now it is numb, some two months later. The doctor said if it is nerve damage, when - or if - it heals, it will take a long time. Nerves grow very slowly. I did have a bad laceration across my stomach from the seatbelt I believe. But I can not think of anything that impacted that area or why there would be nerve damage. Unless my back got jolted and something happened there. But my back feels fine. I continue to pray that this will heal.

At any rate, I did fall asleep and awoke to the site of Kim, Dale, and Kim's parents. I don't recall who else was there. Was Kim's sister there that time? I honestly don't know if I woke to them being there or if I was awake when they came in. I was still a bit foggy and on some strong pain medication. It was a bittersweet sight. I didn't know if Kim's parents knew about the drinking. Later, I learned that they did. Kim's mother made a couple comments that didn't register right way. Later, I dreamed Kim's mother was making little snipping comments about me and drinking. (Or was it a dream???) I didn't know what to think of my wife at that time. At some point she did say, "We need to talk."  Over the nexr few weeks, we did talk. In the hospital and at home. Everyone was genuinely glad I was alive and would recover. I I don't know when I learned that I had the surgery already. I was surprised. And relieved.

As I said, there were talks. It will take some time before people can trust me again. I will do whatever is necessary to make that happen. But it will take time. Kim was going to stay (and seemed a bit surprised I had thought she would leave).  My twin brother, Dale, and Kim had set rules. I most gladly accepted them.  Kim or Dale told me they overheard someone in the hospital reiterate the fact that they were surprised I had lived. I was told that I was estimated to be going about 70mph. I was driving south on 99W towards Salem. I got the intersection of Highway 22 and came upon a semi. The semi was at a standstill. At about 70mph, I slammed into the back of the semi. Never touched the brakes. I had drifted a bit left (the car pulled to the left as it was out of alignment) as I hit. The picture above is what is left of the van.   I placed a pic of an undamaged van next to it for comparison.

I suffered a broken right ankle ("tib-fib"), a fractured left femur, a badly bruised left foot, a deep wound on my left hand, and probable nerve damage in a delicate place.  Elsewhere I have pics of the x-rays of the repaired ankle (plates and screws) and femur (rod and screws). I have several incision wounds, the largest being the two on the right ankle and the one on the left hip where they inserted the rod.  Eight weeks later, I started to take steps using a cane. But I still mostly use a walker. I walked about 20 minutes today (Jan 21, 2005). It was about all I could handle. I was exhausted and sweaty.

January 29, 2005: I started using the cane in earnest. I have been on crutches for a week. New areas of pain to contend with.

The recovery continues...