THE NIGHT I WAS SLAMMED BY A DIESEL TRUCK

Although my wounds are already beginning to heal, at times it still feels as if it were only yesterday:

It was just four days before Christmas, 2019. I had been caregiver to a disabled friend and, that evening, she asked me to pick up something for dinner rather than cook. She wanted a hot ham-and-cheese sandwich from Giovanni's Pizza so, at about 6:30, I decided to walk three blocks down to the restaurant to fill her order. In fact, I'd even get a big chocolate-chip cookie along with it. After all, the weather was mild, I didn't have to waste gas, and there was very little traffic on the road. So what could possibly go wrong?

Unfortunately, I was about to find out.

On the way back to her house, I had to cross one of the busiest streets in Ashland, Kentucky. Though I had the light, it was still my habit to check both ways as I was walking across. Meanwhile, I stepped out into the street at the crosswalk. Looking to the right, I could tell no one was coming.

Then I looked to my left - and straight into the grill of a huge truck that was no more then an inch from me! The driver had turned onto 29th Street without bothering to look – or brake. I froze like the proverbial “deer in the headlights” but my mind was racing. The ensuing impact threw me up on the grill, then backward to the asphalt. Somehow, as I fell, I had enough presence of mind to remember how they taught me to roll in the Army:

Bend your body as you fall. To hit rigidly can cause a bone to snap or fracture.

Before you make impact, turn so the flesh will hit the asphalt and not the bone. That means to land on your upper arm and thigh, or even your butt. Those would be more apt to cushion the impact.

Don't stop rolling once you go down. Stop naturally – otherwise, you could possibly snap your wrist, fracture your hand or worse.

Then, once you make impact, try to wiggle your fingers and toes. It's a quick test to see if there's possible peripheral nerve damage. Fortunately, mine moved just fine.

When I went down, I was momentarily shocked – my heart was racing and I began breathing quickly and heavily. My breath was hot and, for whatever reason, smelled bloody.

As a few people stopped and ran over to see what happened, I began to gather my senses. I started hearing the song “I’m Alright” by Kenny Loggins in my mind and, for some reason, thought to myself, “Whew! At least that part’s all behind me now!”

One of the bystanders quickly called 911. As he got off the phone, he looked at the distance between me and the truck's tires, then blurted out, “Man, if that driver had rolled a few inches more, this guy would've been ground meat!” I snickered and weakly responded, “The grocery store’s just across the street. Somebody run over and tell 'em their ground Chuck's lying in the road!” Then someone found the still-bagged sandwich and put it on my chest. Meanwhile, three more people showed up – as luck would have it, a paramedic, an EMT and a nurse who’d just finished their respective shifts at King’s Daughters Medical Center. I tried to get up but those three pushed my shoulders down, yelling, “Don't move! An ambulance is on its way!!” Wondering if maybe something was wrong that I didn't know about, I slowly complied. Once the ambulance arrived and its crew put a neck brace around me, the three of them helped load me (and the sandwich) onto the gurney.. Once inside the ambulance, an EMT began feeling my ankles up to my abdomen as I muttered, “Oh, let that nurse do that, willya?” He laughed and explained that it was to feel for any abnormalities or if I experienced any pain from his mild pressure. I didn't, but I told the guy, “You wanna feel abnormalities? You oughtta feel my brain right now!”

While we were on the way to the hospital, I was able to pry the cell phone from my pocket and message one of my friends (who also happened to be a son of the lady I was helping) as to what had happened. I also let him know that I still had his mom's sandwich with me.

Once I was stabilized in one of the emergency rooms, a couple of nurses began taking my vital signs and drew blood samples to send to the lab. Suddenly, the curtains opened and there stood my friend Seth (whom I had messaged earlier) and his wife. They had immediately come down to check and reassure me that I'd be all right. Before they left, he picked up the sandwich and said that as soon as I was released, he'd pick me up to take me back to his mom's.

After the doctor examined me thoroughly, he ordered CAT scans of both my legs and face. Shortly, a nurse wheeled me back to the X-ray room. It was then that I realized I had a huge, bloody gash on my right knee and couldn’t move the left one without pain. They found that I had contusions on both legs, multiple fractures in my left jaw (though I felt little pain at the time. They said it was probably due to the shock) but, miraculously, no internal injuries or broken bones. As the nurse wheeled me back, I couldn’t help asking if the jaw fractures improved my looks just a little. She smiled but didn’t respond, so I guess they didn’t.

About an hour later, the doctor returned with discharge papers and instructions on taking care of myself at home. He didn’t think I’d require surgery, but that the contusions, bruises, cuts and fractures would heal on their own in time. He said the lab work came back fine and advised me to get an appointment with my regular doctor as soon as possible. I called Seth, who came right away, and was taken to his Jeep in a wheelchair. He took me back to his mother’s house to recuperate; on the way, he told me he’d delivered sandwich, but the cookie I’d had with it had perished in the crash - its little chocolate innards were scattered all over that part of 29th Street!

She wasn't alarmed when Seth helped me into the house – in fact, she just asked questions matter-of-factly. So, after regaling her with details about the accident, I took some over-the-counter pain medicine and lay down on her couch to try and sleep.

At about 11 PM, I awoke to go to the bathroom but, for some reason, couldn’t get my left eye open very well. A quick look in the mirror told me why: the left side of my face was swollen up like a balloon and the eye socket was black, like I'd been hit by a gloveless prize fighter! On top of that, there was dried blood from the bottom of my eye to the jawbone!

When I was finished using the bathroom, I went to the sink and very gently began to wash the blood from my face. There were no cuts and my sight was still good so, to this day, I have no idea where it came from.

Before I lay down again, she brought me a pillow and blanket and then offered a cane that she didn't use in case I needed to go back to the bathroom or whatever. I thanked her and, again, tried to get some sleep.

A couple of hours later, the pain really began setting in. My jaw felt like it was about to drop off and it took about four tries to get off the couch. Fortunately, she left the cane at the side of it, so I used it to shakily get to my feet. Then I slowly hobbled into the kitchen for another "Goody's" powder (it had been five hours since the last one, so it was safe for me to take). From there, I went back, carefully sat down on the couch and watched a little TV until the powder kicked in.

It's been four months since the accident. Though I don't have to use the cane often, there are times (such as when I climb stairs) when the pain in my left knee flares up and reminds me of that evening. Often at first, I would wake up in a sweat after having nightmares about being hit - I could see the grill of that truck right up on me again. Though they're fewer and farther between, I still have them on occasion. I've been seeing a counselor to help me through those as well as other psychological trauma and it's helped tremendously.

The wound on my right knee has healed up but I have been warned by the doctor to still go easy on that leg yet, even though it's been a few months since the accident.

The fractures in my face are a different story. They included my left maxillary sinus, left orbital floor, paired facial bone, but I also had deviated nasal septum and small left nasal spur. While, at one time, I was known for my "voice" and had been a podcaster, it's still hard for me to talk clearly due to both the pain that I still suffer and the effect of the fractures. Nonetheless, the doctors (whom I still see regularly for check-ups) tell me that, in about another two or three months, that "voice" should return clearly.

But, despite the continuing battle, there are two important things that stick out in my mind and keep me optimistic. First of all, somehow I maintained a decent sense of humor and shared it with others. In subsequent visits to my counselor, I was told that laughter can do wonders for not just the spirit but the body; it seems to accelerate the healing process. Adding a humorous reaction or quip actually helped me through an initial shock phase.

Secondly, I remember what one of the witnesses said that night: “ … a few inches more, (and I would've been) ground meat!” But that didn't happen; I'm still alive and now on the mend! There are a few more hurdles to cross physically, but I'm still alive and in one piece!

And, where there's life, there's hope …