This is the story of my accident. If you've ever had an accident you know memories can go a couple ways. You either don't have many/any of the event, or you remember every nano-second, like a really bad, slow motion, B movie. I'm the latter. Wish I wasn't, but I'm down to reliving the movie only about 4 times a week now. *They* say this is called PTSD. I disagree with the use of that term in non-combat situations, but that is a conversation best reserved for a fireside chat.

 

 

It was June 22, 1999, a Tuesday. I parked my bus around 4:30 and finished up my day. I hopped on my bike and headed out to go buy some functional chrome, and needed accesories, from Behind Bars, on Geyser Rd. in Ballston Spa, NY. I spent some time chatting with some long haired hottie on a black scoot, and then saddled up to go get my cage, and my little angel.

I was putting along enjoying the beautiful day. My usual route home was to go past a couple of my bus stops, and wave at the kids playing there. They were all pretty impressed having a bus driver with a Harley. <g> As I neared the intersection of Geyser and Greenfield, where I normally turned right, I could see there was a car in my lane waiting on a left hand turn, and about 3 cars driving up the side of the road to make rights, around him. I was still a ways back, and the guy made a quick left, clearing up my lane. The idiots on the side of the road were turning slowly. I don't drive on the side of the road, so I abandoned the idea of that turn, slowed a little, and proceeded forward. As I approached, a car was coming towards me, and stopped with his left directional on. He would be crossing my lane. I still had cars on the right side of me, in a NON lane. I wagged my front end at the guy coming at me, made eye contact, and proceeded through the clusterfuck intersection.

Guess what? He didn't see me. He thought he saw a small hole in the line of idiots driving up the side of the road, and as my front tire was coming even with his bumper, he hit the gas. I heard the tires chirp, and knew he was coming. I attempted a quick dodge to the right, I could see cars over my right shoulder, and another idiot was coming through the stop sign, out of that road to the right, directly into my path. I was fucking boxed in.

~insert crashing noises~ I was told he hit me at a *high rate of speed*. How the hell he managed that in that small space is beyond me. (time was about 5:00 pm by my recall)

He hit my front tire. As his car was pushing me up the road to the right, my bike was still sliding in a forward motion across the front of his car. About this point, a small work boot came sailing over my left shoulder, from behind me. As I was trying to downshift and get the hell off the front of the car, it dawned on me....wooooow, that was MY boot! No wonder I couldn't shift!

::speed up a little::: things started happening fast and furious. I realised I was fighting for my life, and instinct kicked into overdrive. I was half sitting on the hood of the car. I was trying to pull my leg out from between the bike and car. I pounded on the hood. He flipped me the bird. My thigh bone snapped, leg tore to about 6 inches from my groin, and the blood started shooting. Yes, it really does do that. I was back on the bike seat. He must have finally hit the brakes about then. My bike was coming loose from the hood, and I could feel the back end coming up off the ground. Flashed to a friend telling me years ago, if the bike is going to go end over end, get the fuck off of it!! I kicked off with my right leg, and tucked and rolled to the left. The stop sign was right in front of me, and a friend who had died the year before was sitting on it. I wasn't sure if he was there to help me *move on*, or to tell me I was not going to leave my daughter behind, like he did. (peeled the back of his head off on a highway sign) At any rate, I didn't stop to ask.

I hit the ground and the bike hit about 10 foot away, upside down, running wide open. Then the real fun began. there I was surrounded by all manner of folks. Not a one had a belt, no one would touch me, and I couldn't find the right spot on my leg to shut off the blood flow. I was thinking I should take a little nap before picking up Tori, then the ground started vibrating, and I heard the sound of thunder. About that time I screamed for someone to shut the bike off before it blew up ( I could smell the gas!!) and to kindly extinguish all smoking materials. Next view was of a shiny black Harley roaring up, and long haired hottie jumping off (I was sure this was my escort to Harley Heaven, I didn't think I minded, and it was the guy from the bike shop) and running towards me tearing his shirt into strips. Well, I'll be damned. I'm not the only one who watches ER!!! He tied my leg off, and laid across my upper torso to keep me from trying to crawl around and count/find my parts.

Quick inserts: Oddly enough this Harley dude's father was a Dr. so he had vital knowledge, which saved my life. Can't remember his name, he did come to see me in the hospital. He had really nice eyes. The guy who hit me came out of shock and tried his best to help. I forgave him, and told him so. I've never seen him again, to my knowledge, tho I have friends who keep track of him. A woman who lived right on the corner called in the accident, and went and got a cooler of ice and packed my parts. My daughter's physical therapist was in the crowd, tho didn't know it was me til months later. despite the many 911 calls, it was logged as a *property damage* call, and a Sheriff was dispatched, but no ambulance. Moving on.....

A Sheriff showed up and ran over, and was definately shocked to see his children's bus driver in the dirt. He called for an ambulance immediately, and relieved me of my job of crowd control. The ambulance showed up. They cut off my clothes, including my brand new Victoria's Secret underwear (bastards!) and got me all sorts of strapped down and ready for transport. Someone called for Med Flight, but I was ready to be moved then, so they had to drive around and pretend to be saving me. While loading me into the ambulance, someone pushed the gurney a little too quickly, and I ended up with a hole in the top of my head. No fractured skull, thankfully, but definately scalped, and have a scar back there, which currently has a tattoo of an eye on it. Med Flight was re-routed to Saratoga Hospital, and we set off on our scenic tour. Shortly after the blow to my head, I started slipping away......I guess this is where my blood pressure became non-exhistant, the heart just didn't want to play anymore, and I heard a man say *we better get to Saratoga Hospital quick, we're losing her* That put quite a fright into me and I snapped back to inform them that would happen over my dead body! (they don't have a trauma center. I'll leave it at that) He told me that's what they were trying to avoid. <g> We got to the first hospital and I wouldn't let them unload me, tho I think they eventually did, probably to pass time while waiting for the helicopter. I recall threatening the Dr. a good many times, I was extremely combative at this point. I guess that Med Flight arrived somewhere, and I was then taken to them. We took off for Albany Med at 5:44. They don't actually land on the hospital so I was dropped off on the top of some building (at 5:58) taken down in an elevator, loaded into another fucking ambulance and taken to the hospital. (there is a point to the time frames. Play along)

At this point I was even more combative, scared to death and fighting for my life. I finally allowed them to give me pain meds, but I had to talk to the surgeon, so made them keep me awake. He was not a happy camper to rush in for trauma surgery only to have to argue with the patient. The impact had fully amputated my left leg right below the knee, obviously the foot was not attached, my lower leg had *no discernable bony mass*, the thigh bone was broken, there was no skin for repairs, and someone had misplaced part of my knee, that was never found. I refused to be peeled like a carrot (skin grafts) and they didn't have enough parts to re-build the knee, so I demanded above knee amputation. He pointed out that he was more concerned with permanant brain injury as we were fully an hour after the accident. So began a couple days of surgeries, copious amounts of drugs, and all that happy horseshit.

well, that's it for now. I'll be back to finish. My counselor thinks this is therapeutic. I think it makes me fucking angry.

:::shrug:::

Written up back in '02...I'll get to the rest one day. ;)

ŠAH#122