Battered, but not defeated

Greetings from Bloomington, the best place to be in an accident!

Today is the 11th anniversary of 9/11. I wasn't really thinking about it too much, because I had some other things on my mind--like being hit by a car.

My life has sort of turned upside down. Sunday morning I went to church and was feeling quite positive about life in general. I came home, put on my little apron, and cooked a large enough meal to last me through the week. The weather was absolutely gorgeous, so I decided to go on a long bike ride, since I knew it would be getting colder soon. I rode to the west side of town and rode along the beautiful B-Line, Rail Trail, and Clear Creek Trail. I remember marveling at the heavenly weather, the sky that looked like God had painted it with an intricate paintbrush, and the fields of wildflowers. I probably biked about 14 miles and then started to head home for dinner, because I was starving and tired.

I was on 7th street downtown heading east and the light was still green as I was crossed College Ave. when a car was suddenly heading at me as it turned left. The driver was a young guy driving a blue Saturn, and he couldn't see me, because he was laughing and talking with the other guy in his car. I knew I was going to momentarily be hit, because I couldn't stop and he didn't see me. I can still hear my own screams as the car plowed into me. I flew across the hood and into the intersection, while my bike disappeared in the direction of the car. Thankfully I wasn't run over. I just remember having a feeling of horror as I dove into the pavement, basically doing a big belly flop at a million miles per hour. I couldn't move and just turned over on my back there in the middle of the intersection. I didn't even think about the other cars lined up at the red light on College. They all saw and heard the impact, apparently. It was about 6 p.m. at this point.

So I was just sprawled out in the intersection knowing I couldn't and shouldn't move. Suddenly a woman was on my left side, crouched down and holding my hand. She said in a perfect Southern accent, "I'm a nurse. My name is Peggy Welch. You're going to be okay!" The guy who hit me called 911. Peggy held onto my hand, asking me questions about myself. I mostly just remember staring at the vivid blue sky, with a few puffy white clouds floating by.

Soon I heard sirens, more voices, and lots of hurriedness. There was a flurry of activity. Peggy disappeared and it seemed like there were 20 different faces hovering around me at different points. They all told me their names. They seemed to repeat the same questions--What's my name? How old am I? Where am I from? What happened? Can I move my legs? I almost wanted to laugh at all the million different men telling me their names. All I could think of was how painful I felt, and how handsome they were! Through parched lips, I kept mumbling answers, staring at the blue sky, and wondering why all the most ridiculously good-looking police offers and emergency responders were kneeling beside me. It's rather bizarre the random things you think about in situations like that.

Eventually several people carefully hoisted me on a backboard, put my neck in a brace, and put me on a stretcher. I could still see the piercingly blue sky around the silhouettes of people. They all seemed to have halos around them. Up until this point I had been quite calm, like I obviously felt the arms of Jesus around me. But then I started getting panicky, because my arms were tingling and then I couldn't feel them. They were going numb. I asked and pleaded, "Why can't I feel my arms?" Nobody responded but just hurried even more. There was a little window in the ceiling of the ambulance, so I could still see that blue sky. The paramedics hooked me up to an IV and put little electrodes on my chest. A couple of minutes later we arrived at the ER and they wheeled my stretcher into the ER, announcing me as a "Two Trauma" case. It was another great flurry of activity and more faces. I could only see the bright lights of the ceiling and think I was sort of going into shock, starting to realize what had happened and wondering if I was paralyzed.

I was also having a hard time breathing, and started to shiver uncontrollably. People were cutting off every article of clothing from me--snip, snip, snip. There went my baggy gym shorts, shirt, bra, underwear. There were more nurses talking to me. Then yet another cute police officer leaning over me. He asked me if I remembered him from the scene of the accident and asked me more questions for a police report. Then he was gone as more hands carried me onto yet another surface and put me through a CT scan--"scanning the heck out of me," according to a doctor later.

I was then taken to another room, where I was assigned my own nurse, Brian, who took great care of me all evening. At this point I felt like I might be dying. They piled blankets on me and put warm fluids through my IV. They hooked me up to a machine to take my vitals, and even put in a catheter. That catheter was probably the worst. Peggy reappeared at this point and sat with me for nearly 2 hours. I felt so alone, but she is a strong believer and prayed with me and kept me company. We started talking about D.C. and it suddenly dawned on me that this was Peggy Welch, the woman who was not just a nurse and a guardian angel, but also a state representative. She's a "conservative Democrat" who has represented Bloomington for 14 years. She was such a huge encouragement and blessing. She called my roommate, Christine, and my mom.

Peggy stayed until about 9:30 when Christine arrived. I was still strapped to the backboard, staring motionlessly at the ceiling, and must have looked rather frightening. I just wanted to cry, because I felt so blessed by such kind people and was so thankful to be alive.

They finally put me in a regular hospital bed when they decided nothing happened to my spine. By this point I was starting to regain feeling in my arms. I was also allowed to have some water and a meal. Christine brought me a Jimmy John's sandwich, which tasted like the best sandwich ever. She called friends to pray for me. I also talked to Mom on the phone, and she booked a flight to come see me the next morning.

Miraculously I had arrived at the hospital seeming near death, and then they discovered I was just badly bruised inside and outside, bloody and burned in some placed, and had swelling, fractures, and contusions in my ribcage and abdomen. Apparently I was the miracle of the evening. When I hobbled out of there about a million hours later with a prescription for painkillers, some baggy clothes Christine brought, and a thankful heart, everyone was smiling so much. One nurse at the door I remember having seen earlier said, "Wow, we were all so worried about you! We're so glad you're going to be okay."

I haven't been able to work this week, and I'm just resting, changing bandages, and talking with the visitors who show up at my door with flowers, cards, and even baked bread. I am totally engulfed by God's love, protection, and provision, as well as the kindness and compassion of strangers, friends, and family.

Today we went to the doctor for a follow-up, and then I went to the police station to talk to an officer who worked on my case. He was on duty, but came back to the station to talk with me. Why does everyone have to be so attractive and kind?? He remembered exactly who I was. He said, "Ah, yes, the girl who was born on July 17th." I asked him some questions about the accident, since I hadn't seen the full report. My story lined up with the driver's and other witnesses. It was entirely the driver's fault. The officer said to email him if I ever had any other questions. I was thinking, "How about dinner maybe?"

Thanks for all your thoughts and prayers as I heal and get to go through the process of filling out lots of insurance claims, paper work, etc. I am also somewhat traumatized, and am already having flashbacks... But God is a great healer and it's a wonderful feeling to be alive!!