Life hit me hard again, close to the hardest so far.
On Friday, November 13th, I left work to go sign some refinance papers for the house I cosigned with my daughter in Sacramento. I didn't make it to that appointment.
A mile or less from work some stupid fucking neuron decided to fire off a seizure like it did in 2014. This was while I was moving slowly in traffic after a light turned green. I made some weird sounds, rode up onto the center median from the fast lane, fell off that and crossed all three lanes to the right turn lane and plowed head on into a traffic light pole. One of the new big solid ones. It hardly wiggled as seen from the windshield mounted dash cam. At one point I was headed straight for five cars in the cross street left turn lane, all of the drivers staring at me approaching. Fortunately my right foot went away from the gas pedal and I just coasted into the pole instead. All the other cars had room to maneuver around me, thank you Covid traffic. The pole was undamaged.
On the other hand I seem to have hit the pole while in the throes of the seizure. With a stiff body the forces of the impact went though my body in ways unintended by the air bag and seat belt designers. My left foot seems to have been braced awkwardly up under the dash where it was bent sideways, crushing a bone in there, and getting gouged by something. My left ankle was then broken and the head of my left femur jammed into my left hip socket, fracturing it. My knee just took it like a trooper. My right foot sustained no damage but the ankle broke like the left side. The head of my right femur badly damaged my right side hip socket, getting pushed almost through it. Again, the right knee just passed the forces through. Good knees. Recovery would be very hard with busted knees. No internal injuries, the airbag or seatbelt cracked my sternum, no head injuries. Arms and hands uninjured too, very important for recovery. The worst thing above my navel was I bit the crap out of my tongue. And had another fucking seizure.
I never paid the $100 per month for the VW equivalent of OnStar emergency and other services so was surprised to hear in the dash cam video my car immediately calling for help. I didn't know it worked. Good thing, I wasn't conscious at the time in the normal sense. You can't trust the dozen other people around to help. But someone did, a pedestrian named Dotty immediately came to my assistance, talked to the VW guy who wanted to confirm the location of the accident, found my phone for me, unbuckled my seat belt, talked to the responding police, and made witness statements. None of which I remember. I was still gibbering in the final throes and fog of the seizure. Actually a couple of other drivers and pedestrians came to help too but Dotty took charge until the police arrived. Apparently, I can't listen to the audio after the crash so I know this from a friend of Liz's who listened to it all. She said it got ugly after the crash.
When the police and EMTs tried to get me out of the car, the extent of my injuries was made known to them by Other Tom, the version of me they were interacting with. Other Tom is who emerges after a seizure. He is very vocally angry, afraid, paranoid, and vulgar. So I hear from those who are around me then.
My return to reality was later that night when I see a doctor looking down at me, he wore a black skull cap with the Michigan State emblem on it, ceiling lights behind him, and he tells me he is going to drill some rods through my legs just above my knees so they can do "something something something." "Ok!" I say. It isn't going to hurt but I'll hear some sounds. I think "Cool! Does this mean I've had another seizure? Damn, flying has ended." Notice no thought of Liz, Amanda, Allena or Mom. Sorry. Sometime later I talked to Liz via FaceTime which I sort of remember, she doesn't get to see me in person until late December, thanks Covid.
I don't remember the first few surgeries, I was in ICU and drugged up pretty good. Liz and the lead orthopedic surgeon made decisions and did what needed to be done. With Covid everything had to be over the phone, Liz never met the surgeon until March after I got home and we went back for a checkup and plan for next steps.
The disability and health insurance have been a nightmare. Duh.
