My Accident

It was a dreary, rainy evening. Even though official sunset was a good hour off, the sky was dark, and all of the cars had their lights on. It wasn't raining hard mind you, just enough to make you wish you had intermittent wipers. It had been raining for nearly a week. Cold, wet and windy pretty much describes the weather forecast on any given day. I left right on time, 5 PM. Usually I leave about 10 to 15 minutes early because I usually arrive 10 to 15 minutes early, but today the meetings and jobs ran right up to normal quitting time, so there I was, stuck with the other rats in the rat race for home.

Just before the exit to I-35 from I-435 north, on the bottom side of Kansas City, Kansas, there was a 6 or 7 car pileup. Everyone had to stop and look so the traffic on my side crawled to nearly a standstill, forcing us into bumper to bumper in spite of our best efforts to avoid it. Thankfully, I made it through that mess and onto the exit. I could see a line of cars ahead, but they were moving just fine.

As I approached the line of cars, their stop signals blazed on, almost in unison. Reacting quickly, I pressed my brake. Think a moment, you know the area just at stop lights, stop signs and turn lanes? That area where waiting car after waiting car bleeds its internal fluids, saturating the pavement with denatured dinosaur? Remember how slippery it is, even when it's dry? Imagine it with a thin sheet of water. This is the area in which my tires attempted to drag the 1000 plus pounds of 1986 Cavalier to a halt.

The car began skidding. I had visions of slamming in to the car in front of me, it slamming into the one in front of it, the car coming behind me creaming us all, I wrenched the wheel to the right. Thankfully the car veered around the vehicle in front of me. Now I was sliding and fishtailing alongside of the line of cars along the shoulder. I had visions of side swiping several before coming to a halt, once again I turned the wheel to the right, careening onto the grassy, mud-covered slope away from the road altogether.

I knew it was over when I began the sickening, out of control, sideways slide on the slick mud. I reached the bottom of the ditch and felt the nose impact, then the sickening feeling of the entire car lifting and turning in an almost end over end flip. The roof impacted first sending me hard against the seat belt shoulder strap and smashing my head into the roof, which was now several inches closer. The car finished its flip and landed facing the interstate, its rear wheels nearly touching a railroad line.

The pain was intense. It flooded me from the top of my head, down my neck to the middle of my back. I was sure I had broken my spine somewhere, or at least smashed a disk or two. Slowly, the pain leaked away and I became aware of my surroundings. The radio was still playing, and the engine was racing. I switched the car off and took it out of gear. The snapping and grinding noises from the shifter told me the transaxle was shot. I turned the radio off and sat still, seeing if I could still contact toes, feet and legs. I could hear the hiss of escaping coolant from the smashed radiator. All of the windows were gone or smashed, except the rear window, which was miraculously intact.

As I tried the jammed shut door, a concerned face appeared.

"Wow, that was something! Are you Okay? I was right behind you."

"I think I've injured my back." Was all I could say.

"Well, just sit still, there is someone calling for help."

"Is he okay?" Asked another voice, female this time.

"He thinks he has hurt his back."

"Let me look, I'm an EMT" She says.

Cool hands check my pulse, loosen my tie and then hold my head still. Do you know how hard it is to hold your head still? Try it.

"Don't move your head, do you have any tingling or numbness? Did you hit the steering wheel?" She opens my shirt and checks for bruising.

I do a mental checkover. "No, just some pain in my back, between the shoulder blades."

About that time, I see the orange, yellow and black slickers of the fire rescue squad. One crawls in through the broken side window and takes over holding my head still. Others use a huge pry bar to force open the driver's side door. After putting me in a back brace and cervical collar, and a bit of figuring, they get me on a back board and over to the ambulance.

The ambulance ride was short. The Hospital, Olathe Medical Center, is so new you can smell the fresh paint and the stain used on the doors. I was placed in room 8. I had to wait a bit, there were wrecks and emergencies of all kinds on this cold, wet night. Finally, after my wife and daughter have been called and my wife is there beside me, they x-ray and tell me everything is all right, the pain is just from a sprain. I have never been quite so grateful since I can remember. I had visions of body casts and wheelchairs.

I am thankful for seat belts, the kindness of strangers and emergency rooms with bright, intelligent staffs. Oh, a final safety tip, don't ever try to comb broken glass out of your hair.