The benefits of not looking into the future… the positives of living in the now…and no where else, this was the first day of the rest of my life...
I was driving down the 101 last year on a Monday afternoon and I got in a car accident. I hit the center divider, on impact my reality cracked and it was as if time froze, I felt as though I was floating in slow motion -- three, two, one.... with a jolt I'm sucked back into reality and all I see is a wave of grey as my car 360's across the 5 lane freeway and rolls down the hill. Two men come running down the bank, through the trees there are flashing lights, and this man in a sweater vest is calling someone and I’m trying to get out of this fucking car.
I was driving down the 101 last year on a Monday afternoon and I got in a car accident. I hit the center divider, on impact my reality cracked and it was as if time froze, I felt as though I was floating in slow motion -- three, two, one.... with a jolt I'm sucked back into reality and all I see is a wave of grey as my car 360's across the 5 lane freeway and rolls down the hill. Two men come running down the bank, through the trees there are flashing lights, and this man in a sweater vest is calling someone and I’m trying to get out of this fucking car.
My life flashed before my eyes, I didn’t have car insurance, the DMV had recently sent a letter saying my registration had been revoked because of that, I also had a letter from the district court saying my license was pending suspension, whatever that means, oh, and I was addicted to (****) or something like that. I wasn’t on it at the time of the accident, and I didn’t have anything associated with it in the car, but I had recently had my car searched by two Las Virgenes’ Sheriffs, they threatened me with a drug test saying that if (****) showed up in my system I could face two years in jail, UM fuck that I’m a college student (financial aid has a policy against felons) no matter how on drugs I was I still had my shit together, that was the problem….
Anyways so all these things are passing through my head as I’m trapped, the roof was smushed down over my body (looking back at pictures now, the car seemed much more spacious at the time) and all I could think was how the fuck am I going to get out of this, I wiggled in adrenaline bred panic trying to get myself free of the seatbelt but before I knew it the two men had made it down the hill and the struggle became useless, I exhaled like a sinking sack of pudding and bone realizing I had been defeated. I had no choice but to relinquish control, It was at this point I realized I couldn’t move the right side of my body.
I’d soon find out that I had collapsed my right lung and fracture the right side of my collar bone. Tears started running down my face as I saw all the firefighters flickering down the bank through the trees. They put me on a stretcher and carried me up the bank, three on each side. When I got into the ambulance It was hard to see, it was like my top eyelids had closed part way and I could only see a few feet off the ground, a CHP came in, he had knee-high black boots, his thighs were intimidating, he handed me a card and told me to contact them when I got out of the hospital. I was pretty incoherent at the time, the card probably got lost in the abyss along with the rest of my former life...
The ambulance got off the 170 and took Laurel to Cedars Sinai. A crotchety old firefighter sat next me, he had grey half-bearding scruff and a tight navy button up shirt like firefighters wear, he reminded me of my moms side of the family, it was his disposition I related with them, the right-wing lack of compassion mindframe.
I begged him to call my grandma or someone. He did. He told my grandma I was fine. I spent the next two day in the ICU, nobody came to see me until four o’clock the next day.
I’d soon find out that I had collapsed my right lung and fracture the right side of my collar bone. Tears started running down my face as I saw all the firefighters flickering down the bank through the trees. They put me on a stretcher and carried me up the bank, three on each side. When I got into the ambulance It was hard to see, it was like my top eyelids had closed part way and I could only see a few feet off the ground, a CHP came in, he had knee-high black boots, his thighs were intimidating, he handed me a card and told me to contact them when I got out of the hospital. I was pretty incoherent at the time, the card probably got lost in the abyss along with the rest of my former life...
The ambulance got off the 170 and took Laurel to Cedars Sinai. A crotchety old firefighter sat next me, he had grey half-bearding scruff and a tight navy button up shirt like firefighters wear, he reminded me of my moms side of the family, it was his disposition I related with them, the right-wing lack of compassion mindframe.
I begged him to call my grandma or someone. He did. He told my grandma I was fine. I spent the next two day in the ICU, nobody came to see me until four o’clock the next day.
It was a Tuesday, November 24, 2009
I was supposed to be working at the weed shop in Hollywood in an hour. My grandma and mom come in and they both look unhappy, all they say is “Oh my god,” (I haven’t seen myself yet) all I can say is please call my work. They hesitate, my grandma says “You shouldn’t be working there,” I was strapped down to a bed, but at that my body made a massive effort to lurch up and scream. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! You’re husband is a marijuana doctor,” and then I looked at my mom and said “And yours is growing it at the house! I don’t know how you expect me to handle this if I don’t have a job when I get out.” My mom resisted but finally dialed 411 to get the number because my phone had been thrown out of the car during my double flip dismount from the freeway. After about 15 minutes and two 411 calls from my mom’s cell phone, she and my grandma say they’ve had enough of this and they left. They didn’t come back.
I was supposed to be working at the weed shop in Hollywood in an hour. My grandma and mom come in and they both look unhappy, all they say is “Oh my god,” (I haven’t seen myself yet) all I can say is please call my work. They hesitate, my grandma says “You shouldn’t be working there,” I was strapped down to a bed, but at that my body made a massive effort to lurch up and scream. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! You’re husband is a marijuana doctor,” and then I looked at my mom and said “And yours is growing it at the house! I don’t know how you expect me to handle this if I don’t have a job when I get out.” My mom resisted but finally dialed 411 to get the number because my phone had been thrown out of the car during my double flip dismount from the freeway. After about 15 minutes and two 411 calls from my mom’s cell phone, she and my grandma say they’ve had enough of this and they left. They didn’t come back.
I lied in the ICU for the next few hours, still unable to move, tears rolled rivers down my face, but I was on my back so they sorta just fell out the corners of my eyes. They moved me to the west wing of the hospital. I found out later that for some reason I was put on the celebrity floor, the 8th. With a $100,000 plus hospital bill, I hope I got to spend those 8 days that I didn’t choose somewhere fucking special.
I was on Deloded, and I couldn’t do anything but remain a pile of pudding for the next few days. My boss came to see me that Wednesday, I had managed to get through to the shop after I talked a nurse into 411’ing the cigar shops number that was next door and one of the girls went over and told them what happened.
The next day was Thursday, It was Thanksgiving.
To be continued….
(If you look at the patterns, clearly my priorities have not been value based --> broken body and the instinct is to run?.....this experience has taught me to care for my well being more than anything else, I needed that, so thank you..)
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