It's a funny thing almost dying. None of that bright light at the end of a tunnel, seeing your life flash before your eyes crap happens, at least not for me. I don't know if I was doing it wrong or what, you know dying, but that's not how my story goes. That car falling on my head was arguably the worst and best thing to ever happen to me Sunday, September 14, 2014 - luckiest day of my life.
You never expect something like that to happen to you. Things like that happen to the guy at work's, brother's, uncle's, cousin's buddy, or the mechanic at Midas in Tulsa on that you see on the news, not you. These things don't happen to you, until they do.
I guess we should start from the beginning. It was a rainy Sunday evening around 6 pm. My best friend Matt and I were starting an oil change on our friend Crystal's 2010 Hyundai Elantra. We didn't have the good floor jack we usually use, so we were using his bottle jack - first mistake. Bottle jacks are notoriously unreliable, I knew that, but we were under time constraints so we used what we had. We got it in the air just fine, put the e-brake on and cinderblocks behind the tires so it didn't roll. We just didn't think to put anything else under it. We were in a hurry I guess, not thinking. I crawled under there with a ratchet and a drain pan. Found the oil pan and filter. The drain plug and filter were on there pretty good, not hand tightened, torque wrench probably. I crawled back out and Matt crawled in, he couldn't break them loose either.
I texted my roommate, Skinny, to see where he was and to see if he had a filter wrench and a breaker bar. The oil pan is on the passenger side by the front tire, so we decided to take the tire off to get a better angle. My theory is while we were breaking the lug nuts loose on the tire we caused the bottle jack to shift and didn't notice. The jack was under a piece of frame right behind that tire. The last thing I remember is fitting the ratchet to the drain plug. The next thing I remember is opening my left eye in the ambulance (the right eye was swollen shut). I remember telling the paramedics that I was "really scared," I said it several times. I also asked if I was going to die. The paramedic said "we don't know right now." He actually thought it was a good idea to tell me that he didn't know. I would've taken a "no" even if it wasn't true. After that they asked me several questions that I can't remember and then I think I passed out again. The next thing I have a clear memory of is the ER room at OU Medical Center. I think I remember being transferred from the stretcher to the ER bed, but I’m not sure.
In the ER all I remember is a bunch of people all around poking at me, asking me questions, hooking me up to machines, connecting IVs. Then I remember being taken to CT, apparently I vomited uncontrollably for a long period of time while I was there, they say that's why it took so long. I don’t remember vomiting in CT and it did’t seem like I was there that long, but I guess I was. Time moves differently when you’re in and out of consciousness.
After CT I was taken back to the ER where they finally let me have visitors. Apparently there were several sets of people who came in to see me, my mom and dad, my mom and her husband Joel, my dad and his wife Shannon, and Matt and Skinny. The only group I remember is my mom and dad. I remember my dad crying. I can understand why, I was in pretty bad shape. I’ve seen the picture my mom took of me in the ER. I looked pretty damn close to dead. I was lying almost completely flat, bleeding from a gash on my right eye lid, out of both eyes, and my mouth. My nose was packed with gauze so I could only breathe out of my mouth. I wasn’t moving much so I’m sure I looked dead. My mother even asked the ER nurse at the front desk if I was dead because she didn’t have any information when she got there. I can’t remember what my speech sounded like, I’m sure it was rough.
My diagnosis - car fell on head. Thats what they wrote on my chart. Official diagnosis - traumatic brain injury, multiple skull fractures, leaking cerebrospinal fluid out of left ear a from hole in the dura (brain covering) - outlook grim.
Skull fractures - right temporal bone where it articulates to the TMJ, right eye socket in 3 places, right cheekbone, all sinuses all the way across my face, occipital bone at the base of my skull behind my left ear, all the bones in my left ear plus a busted eardrum. Quite a list huh? Busted eardrum means I can’t hear out of my left ear, to this day, almost 5 weeks later.
So lets get back to the near death part. I never saw any bright light, I never saw my life flash before my eyes, didn’t hear anyone calling me to the other side or any of that. So maybe I didn’t actually almost die. Well thats not what the doctors say, for all intents and purposes with what happened to me, I should be dead, but I’m not.
I’ll tell you what I did see. I saw darkness. Not the closed eyes kind of darkness, not the asleep kind of darkness. But tangible darkness, I could feel it. I could touch it, reach out and grab it. It was thick and cold. I was so cold. Then there was the smell. It smelled like Grandma Polly and wild flowers, it smelled like dad’s cologne and mom’s hair, like White Diamonds and NeeNee’s kitchen on Christmas, like apple orchards and a Michigan fall, like the Brewhouse and a fresh beer in my mug, like Mollie and Earl after bath time. Separately and all at once. Maybe thats why my life didn’t flash before my eyes. I smelled it all instead.
Almost dying gives you a new prospective on life. That part is true. Nothing is the same as it was. Part of it my recovery process. Its like growing up all over again. Learning how to walk on my own again, going to the bathroom without help, even writing - my handwriting right now is atrocious. I even forget words sometimes, it’s from the brain trauma. They say it should all correct itself eventually, but it takes time.
The feeling it creates though, you feel helpless, useless, dependent upon someone else for everything. Basic things that I’ve been doing since I was a kid I now need help with. I’m 22 years old and I drink out of a sippy cup, They say I’ll be normal again, it just takes time, to be patient. Well patience has never been my strong suit. Learned it from my mother. I want to be okay right now. I want my hearing back, I want to be able to drive, I want to go back to work, hell I just want to be able to go out in public without sunglasses and earplugs because the light and noise kills my head. I want my life back.
I know I shouldn’t be complaining. I should be happy I’m alive and don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the second chance that I’ve been given. I am happy to be alive. But accepting that I can’t just go back to my old life is tough. I’ve been out of the hospital for almost 3 weeks as I write this. Sunday, October 26, 2014 will make 6 weeks since my accident. I feel lost. I feel well enough to do some things on my own, bathroom, showering, getting dressed. But there is still so much I can’t do and it drives me crazy. I get confident and then I stand up too fast and get knocked on my ass by the dizziness and it takes me back down a few pegs. Frustration is a constant.
There is another side to that coin. Being alive despite the odds is a second chance. I’ve been given the chance to almost start over.
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