Have you ever sung along to the Pitch Perfect “riff off”? On my way to a fashion show campsite this was the highlight. Ashley*, my best friend and driver of the car, played the whole CD, and we sang along to each and every song. The two of us praised each other for our sophisticated style as we passed fields of sunflowers, and we felt fully prepared to embark on our first camping experience without supervision.The initial care-free vibes were greeted by stress about making it to the campsite in time for the fashion show when we realized we had passed our exit by 2.5 hours… I like to explain by telling my audience that this is what happens when two blondes are navigating a car. We made a quick stop at the gas station- I ate a chocolate chip cookie, and texted my dad about our error and how we were safe and on our way.Less than 15 minutes after the text was sent, we were no longer safe or on our way. Speeding in the rain to make up for lost time, our car must have hydroplaned while switching lanes. I remember hitting a car in front of us, thinking that was it and we were OK, but then my side window shattered, and we were driving off the road. It is all fragmented and confusing. Waking up from a brief state of unconsciousness, my head throbbed, my finger burned, and my face pounded. Whenever I think about the accident I look down at my lap and hold out my hands, palms up. Because as I opened my eyes that is what I saw. My pants were soaked in blood. I reached up to my face to identify where the bleeding was coming from, and as I lowered my hands it was clear my face was indeed the source. I mumbled “Ashley, there’s a lot of blood,” scared out of my mind that I was going to die and hoping that she could take care of me. No response from her. I began feeling around for my phone, unable to look any direction but straight ahead. Glass crunched behind my back and rain drizzled across my arm. As I failed to locate my phone I was helpless. The aching in the back of my head was dooming. My body cried for sleep more than ever before. I thought of my family, my future, and how I didn’t want to die. My life felt like it was in God’s hands: there was nothing I could do and that was terrifying and reassuring at the same time. I had never been so scared, calm, or tired my entire 17 years.
Fortunately, everyone made it out alive. I got away with my left eye socket floor being blown out, a shattered left cheekbone, a broken upper jaw, a collapsed septum, broken nose, dying fractured tooth, air bubble in my lung, and fractures along my right cheekbone. After an eight hour surgery and follow-up 30 minute operation, I only have a small incision scar in the corner of my eyelid to show for the bone damage. I can now say I am part cyborg, as I have a titanium cheekbone and eye socket shelf beneath my skin along with upwards of 34 screws. Ashley had a brain bleed and concussion that has since been resolved.The accident was two months before starting school at Cal Lutheran as an out-of-state student. Fast forward to the spring break of my freshman year. In some ways, I am fine. I love my classes and do my homework. I have made amazing friendships. In other ways, I’m not okay. Doing fun spontaneous things seems scary. The thought of road tripping is unimaginable and even catching a ride to the homecoming dance is emotionally draining. With every car ride I ask myself- is this necessary? Are you willing to die for this? Whenever I am in the passenger seat I spend half of my time deeply focusing on the road and surrounding cars. The other half of the time I am trying not to fall asleep, because my mind is exhausted from the anxiety. My friends have to understand that I have limits to what I can push myself to do. It feels incredibly lonely when everyone else in the world seems able to just get in a car and go on an adventure. Back home, I don’t see the vast majority of my friends over breaks because I’m not willing to drive to them or with them.
I want to stay a kid forever because being a kid feels safe. I tried to grow up, and I have a car accident to show for it. Other than my parents, not a lot of people understand that. When I mention my accident it is brushed over as if it wasn’t a big deal. Yet, it was a big deal. I think about it everyday when I look in the mirror and see my pupil that is now slightly bigger, and no longer centered in my eye. I think about it when I do my eyeshadow and have to create a false shadow under my left eye because the cheek is still lifted. I think about it when it rains and I feel a drop hit my right arm, when I’m invited to do anything fun that requires a car ride, when I’m brushing my teeth and avoiding my sensitive gums, when I’m washing my face and feel the numb patch to the left of my eye, when somebody asks me what the bump on my lip is, and when I cover the scar in the outer corner of my eye with concealer.Being in a car accident creates a new normal that not everybody will fully understand because no one else can know what you went through. Once that new normal is reached, things are still frustrating, scary, and downright exhausting sometimes. However, every time I think about what happened I am also extremely grateful to be alive. At the end of the day that is what matters. My dad likes to say that it is a miracle we made it out and didn’t break our necks the way the report states the crashed happened. I agree, it was a miracle. Considering what went wrong, a lot had to go right as well. I am lucky to be here and embarking on my life’s journey at Cal Lu. A car accident can happen to anyone. We are not immune to bad things happening to us nor are we immortal. For every dinner at Ullman Commons I experience with my roommates, to hugs from my little siblings, I feel lucky to be here.
Cover image: Golden Gate Traffic – 3rd image by photoeverywhere
Facial photo courtesy of writer.
* name changed to protect privacy.