September 25, 2000 started out as what seemed to be a red letter type of day. The sun shone brilliantly, my friend and I just left an interview for our first jobs during our senior year. We left the Burger King heading east on Highway 34, excited and jamming out to our favorite songs. We just exited the town of Red Oak when our day turned into a black letter day. A large 1980's Econovan, doing 65 miles per hour in a 55, crossed the center line on the bridge out of town. Avoidance was out of the question. He slammed into our car headfirst.
I woke up seven days later in St. Joe's Hospital in Omaha, NE. I was scared, confused, and in pain. I had a tube lodged in my throat breathing for me and at least a dozen other tubes and wires dangling from my body. My mom was in a chair in the room when I woke. She looked worn and weary, her eyes still puffy and bloodshot from days of crying. She explained that I was in a head on collision and suffered a ruptured aorta, dislocated hip, broken ribs, broken ankle, a broken hand, my lungs had collapsed, my liver was lacerated, and I would have to wait a few more days to have the ventilator removed. She also explained that after a 16 hour, touch-and-go, surgery they were able to repair everything.
After about six weeks I was released from the hospital. Besides still being in a whole lot of pain and taking it easy with my heart, things started to go back to normal. Three months after my release I had to go back to the hospital. It turns out I had adhesion's, scar tissue, wrapped around my intestines blocking my digestive tract. I had to go through more surgeries the next few months to keep them from coming back.
I was always a shy kid, but always loved life and looked forward to the future. I was going to be a meteorologist. I had big plans. After my last hospital stay, several months after my first round of adhesion's, a switch flipped in my head. I was no longer happy, I was disgruntled. I was no longer shy, but I started to crave attention. Not good attention either. The next several years I had run-ins with the law, I had achieved nothing. I quit college, I drank a lot, I lost my driver's license. My family worried because I would go months without talking to them. Nineteen years later, I have come a long way, but I am still a long way from the person that I was.
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A Changed Person #LookingForAlaskaContest
Non-FictionThis is a non-fiction story about my life-changing event. A car wreck turned my life upside down. Read about it here. Note: The picture is not of my actual car.
