Looking Back to Move Forward – Part IV

*Warning: This particular part of my story contains information that maybe disturbing to some. I'm a “tell it like it is” type of person/personality and plan to describe, in full, the details that live in my head of my survival of a near fatal car accident. In doing this, I hope to relieve my mind of this nightmare that is my past and hope some greater good will come to someone as a result.

Missed Part I, Part II or Part III?

Click on the part you missed to catch yourself up.

Survival

The sirens came! Oh did they ever come!

It was the most joyous sound that I have ever heard – the whirling of sirens in the distance getting closer every second. The sound was like a chorus of Angels singing. I know. Cheesy. But it truly was! It was the sweetest sound of relief in contrast to the feeling of being buried alive in this cramped, dirt-filled car. I worried though. I knew the emergency crews were rushing to save us and I worried that they would crash too. I worried that they would crash into us. Hypersensitivity to car accidents kicked in early and has never left me since. Calm. Stay calm. They know what they're doing. They have done this before. Breathe. Breathe.

As the sound got closer, it pierced my ears. It was too loud now. No more Angels! It ignited the ringing of the post again. It's possible the sounds knocked me in and out of blackness again. I tried to stay calm and just breathe. Breathe.

The dirt had settled quite a bit inside the car but I was still spitting out dirt. I couldn't get it all out. I couldn't feel everything or utilize my mouth properly. This scared me, so I stopped. Stay calm. Just breathe. Any action or thought that scared me, I had to put it aside and focus on being calm. Breathe. Breathe.

It was getting harder to breath though and as happy as I was to hear the sirens, I was losing my focus on staying calm - knowing that help was in arms reach. I HAD to stay calm though. Our air felt limited between the amount of dirt in the car and the enclosed space that we were in. Breathe in the little air. There's no other choice. Breathe. Breathe.

Every now and then I tried to look around. I couldn't see much. Light in the distance but darkness surrounding me. My brother's face was the most visible in my flashes of sight. He was trying SO hard to keep us both calm but he looked like he was in pain too. His eyes were alert but his face seemed pale. With each passing minute, we were struggling more and more. Breathe. Breathe.

Given the injuries that I had, I don't remember feeling too much pain. My body was helping me. I'm grateful I couldn't feel the pain of all the injuries I endured. I was VERY uncomfortable though but I had to look past that. My brother had to look past it as well and as much as he was coaching me to hang on, I'm sure he was coaching himself at the same time.

My brother played the “big brother” role very well this day. He was 18 yrs. old. He took care of me in this traumatic situation the best that he knew how. Stay calm Daisy. Breathe. Breathe.

He spoke for us when emergency crews finally reached our vehicle. He told them our conditions but focused on how difficult it was to breathe. He said everything that I could not. Even though there was relief from having the emergency crews so close, my brother knew that each passing minute was critical and he wanted me out. I have no doubt that he wanted out too but he could see the blood and he wanted me out even more. The worry in his voice was growing. Breathe. Breathe.

I think it was at this moment that the crew member suggested sending in oxygen. My brother and I lit up at the thought. We needed it. We needed it very bad. Stay calm though. It's not here yet. Breathe. Breathe.

Getting out took time. Emergency crews buzzed about the car. I was losing my ability to focus. There was so much talking – even shouting of commands. It was too much to take in. I was losing my ability to process all the information that was surrounding me. 

My brother. Just focus on him. I believe my brother was told that it would take some time to get us out but they were doing everything they could. They tried to speak confidently. They tried SO hard but I heard worry in their heroic voices as they looked in. Calm. Stay calm. 

I wondered why they couldn't just open the darn door and get us out! I was confused. I must have passed in and out of consciousness at this time as I don't remember this stage taking as long as it actually took. Breathe. Breathe. 

Their voices sounded strong. Much stronger than I felt. Even though there was worry hidden in their voices, their voices were re-assuring as they had strength on their side. Their bodies weren't broken like mine. They had physical strength. They also knew that help was right here. They had the people power and the tools. They had the training and the knowledge. This was the source of reassurance in their voices. I knew that all they needed me to do was to do my part and just breathe. Breathe. Stay calm. Breathe. Breathe.

I opened my eyes to a glorious sight. An oxygen mask! My brother put it on immediately and breathed in the sweet air of life. This was survival. I didn't hold back my desire for air. I wanted that mask and let my brother know with all the garble and hand signals that I could muster. I wasn't at all worried about him as I knew they would probably get another one. A crew member was on my brother's side of the car, staying right beside him and assessing, talking and assisting. I don't remember much of what was said, it's a jumbled memory, I was fully focused on breathing. With air within my reach, I was focused on getting that mask and I let my brother know it! Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe!!

My poor brother. He needed that air too but he passed the mask over to me – a little annoyed – it may have even been a bit of a “throw” to me but I didn't care. I needed that air. I needed to breathe. I needed air!! I picked up that mask and breathed in the cool, sweet air. BREATHE!!!!! Ahhh! BREATHE!!!!! Ahhh! BREATHE!!!! Ahh! BREATHE!!!! Ahhhh!! Relief!! I took that mask and I let it cool my face but I never let it wander too far from my mouth and nose. BREATHE!!!! Ahh! BREATHE!!!! Ahh! BREATHE!!!! Ahh!

I don't even remember my brother receiving another mask. I'm sure he must have. I was too busy BREATHING!!! Ahhh! BREATHE!! BREATHE!! BREATHE!! The power of breathing only reveals itself when one begins to lose it. BREATHE!!! BREATHE!! BREATHE!!

I overheard that they needed to cut the door open to rescue us. I worried again. Cutting sounded invasive. I was getting very protective of my cradled body. Cutting a car sounded like it was going to hurt. Not the car. Me! I didn't want the car to be jostled around. I knew it would hurt me. Oxygen. BREATHE! BREATHE!

Miraculously, I don't recall feeling a thing. Before I knew it, my brother was being moved and they were coming for me.

I'm a nice girl. I like to be helpful, so, when they reached for me, I wanted to help them to pull me out. I was now on my belly and planned to use my hands to pull me forward, out of the car. My hands were secured on the flooring but as I tried to push my body forward,

< PAIN >

stabbed my upper back. OK! There's something wrong with my back. Another injury to add to my list. Tongue, teeth, something on my face and now back. OK. I can handle this...is what I tried to convince myself. There was really, no time to even think of what I could or couldn't handle as I was being rescued. I was being pulled out of that car. Emergency crews were doing for me what I couldn't do for myself.

I tried to apologize to them and tell them about my pain. They couldn't understand. Being in the open air, the open light! It felt so wonderful!! Kind of. Perfectly orchestrated, they turned my body over onto a flat, hard board.

1-2-3!

< PAIN >

I hadn't even been out of that cramped car for 30 seconds and I was ready to go back in. That board was a whole new level of discomfort and the light of day was blinding to my eyes. I tried to keep them closed.

Everything was happening SO fast around me. I tried to be helpful and talk to them, they were too busy talking with each other to listen to gibberish-sounding me. I was embarrassed. I felt ashamed. They were doing all of this work because of a stupid decision. They were all here because of a stupid decision. They were trying to save my life because of a stupid decision and I was connected to that stupid decision. I was SO embarrassed to be there, beside that car, bloodied face, crying in pain and unable to speak. This couldn't get worse.

< Snip, Snip >

What? What the? Whaaaaaa? It got worse!!! It got WAY worse!!!

THEY BEGAN TO CUT MY TOP OFF!!!!!!!

Was I wearing one of my good bras?!? Was I even WEARING a bra?!? I tried not to worry about it but I was a sixteen year old virgin! I WAS WORRIED ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!! I'm the only person who has ever seen me naked in the privacy of my own room. Not my Mother, certainly not my Father or brothers, I had no sisters and not my friends. Well, girls-camp has come pretty close during some, ahem, adventurous swimming activities but THIS WAS NOT GIRLS-CAMP! These were grown men and thankfully, I think I heard the voice of a women.

Stop. I had to stop worrying about this. The rescue crew were obviously NOT worried about my freshly exposed chest and thankfully, they kept my jeans on. They were VERY focused. I have NO clue what they were doing but actually, I started to feel pretty good in the exposed, cool air compared to the hot, cramped car. If it wasn't for all the back pain, not being able to see or talk, I would think I was some kind of Goddess being catered to. Obviously, the oxygen had done some good to me and I had a little too much brain power to worry about things that I didn't need to worry about.

Straps were attached. I felt secure on this horrifyingly, uncomfortablely flat board. They were ready to transfer me, giving each other commands. I felt fairly calm. I had air, I had heroes but they didn't sound calm. There was panic in their voices. They wanted me out of there as fast and as safe as possible. I was in full support of their mission but I had a new worry.

They had to lift me. I was dead weight and I knew that I was no light weight. I had a solid polynesian build and I felt very self-conscious of them lifting me. Once again, I believe that I was more worried than they were, but I'm sixteen years old. I'm worried about them lifting me.

1 – 2 – 3!

Up I went. I felt secure in my straps but I also felt every single movement in my body. The pain was getting old. The worry was getting old. Next, I worried about them dropping me as apparently they needed to maneuver up a bit of a hill to reach the ambulance. This journey sucked. Being rescued in the movies looked A LOT smoother than what I was experiencing at this moment. It felt like obstacle after obstacle was in my way of getting to the next step. Patience. Patience.

I must've blacked out again as I was now in the ambulance. I've NEVER been in an ambulance before! I was captivated! I tried to look around so that I could SEE what it looked like inside but I had difficulty seeing. I felt relief from the light of the day but I still was unable to see very much.

I believe it was a women that was riding with me. She was busy getting everything ready. I tried to talk to her. I wanted to be helpful!! She finally gave into my interest in communicating and asked me how old I was.

She asked,

“Are you 21?”

WOW!!!! My breasts must've looked better than I thought! And I must've been wearing my GOOD bra! I tried to tell the attendant that I was 16. It took a few tries but she understood me! For a moment, I was happy!!

The attendant was busy. The driver was ready and she called to the driver to avoid all speed limits. I thought three things,

1. Don't they ALWAYS avoid all speed limits?
2. There was an urgency in her voice. Why?
3. We just crashed on this road. I hope the driver is careful!!

I looked forward to the ride to the hospital. I knew the way there and planned to point out where I live and give them my Dad's information so that they could tell him to meet us there.

They turned on the siren.

< PAIN >

A siren is even louder from the inside of an ambulance.

I don't think my body could handle all of this very well because that was the last thing I remembered about my very first ambulance ride.

When Anna Nalick came out with this song, I burst into tears. She perfectly described the breathing that helped to save my life this day. Like her, I feel naked sharing my story, but it feels like the right time and place. It's also SO true when she says, you can't 'jump the track' and though I craved for a rewind button this day, there was none. Breathe. Just Breathe.