Survivor's Guilt
I was the DD for my mother, my aunt Rachel and two friends , Justin and Jonathan. I had just dropped my mom off, and got 5 minutes down the road when a drunk driver crossed the center lane and hit us head on. I don’t remember the accident happening, but I remember waking up and lifting my head off the steering wheel. It was so strange because we all had been laughing and having fun. Signing, joking, and just having the time of our lives when it happened. I was trapped in the car for just over an hour, and heard most everything first responders were saying. I didn’t really hear anything about Justin, but he was one of the first they were able to get to since he was laying on the ground outside of the back driver’s side door. He opened it and fell out right after the accident. He was whisked away to the hospital with a broken back, neck, sternum and a seat belt injury that caused him to lose 3 feet of intestines. He was able to walk the next day and only spent 5 days in the hospital. Jonathan escaped with a few minor injuries. He was sitting in the front passenger seat, and missed the impact all together. I think he was drunk enough that it made him loose enough to avoid major injury. He said “ah man, her legs are pinned, Justin. She’s in a bad way.” It took me a minute to realize he was talking about me. Rachel was in the back passenger seat. I remember looking back in the middle console and seeing her blue painted toes sitting on the console. She was screaming that she was stuck and couldn’t move. Her seatbelt failed and she ended up pinned between the seats on the floorboard. Someone was talking to her about getting out, and I heard nothing more from her. I heard that 2 helicopters were called, but one was called off and thought that was a good thing, because whoever it was for wasn’t as hurt as they originally thought. The other, though, was for me. I was pinned against the steering wheel, with my legs trapped against the dash. I saw that my left forearm had a compound fracture through it, and that my left thigh had a very prominent curve to it. I knew I knew I was in a bad way, but was able to deduce that I wasn’t paralyzed because I was able to move my lower legs. I knew something was wrong with my lower right leg, and knew I shouldn’t have moved it. The crash happened on a country road, but in front of several houses and 2 miles from a volunteer fire department. The scene was quickly flooded with people who took control of the scene, and familiar faces. A car that was traveling behind me was my old bus driver in high school. She knew who I was right away. An old classmate who was an off duty fireman, drove up on the scene. He ended up being assigned to me, since we knew each other and was in the car with me, keeping me calm when they arrived. I quickly went into shock, and believe if he hadn’t been there to ground me the psychological trauma would have been so much worse. My phone was lost somewhere on the floorboard when it started ringing. I thought it was for sure a friend that was calling me. I found out later it was my mom calling me repeatedly to tell me not to drink and drive. She said she was so angry when I didn’t answer. I was trapped in the car, but somehow didn’t panic as much as I thought I would have. I’ve always been mildly claustrophobic, and it was very hot and suffocating in the car. I screamed twice when I couldn’t take it any more, but was able to breathe through the panic when a new onslaught hit me. They tried to widen the dash with the jaws of life. It ended up slipping and slamming back on my knees. They decided to not try that again. They threw a blanket over top of me as they cut the top off the car. I could finally feel the breeze again. With a tug and a scream, I was out. I remember looking up at the night sky and seeing the stars, I wished I was apart of them, that they would take me in their loving arms and keep me safe. The sight was cut short by the ambulance lights. They stabilized me before I was back out under the stars. I had never seen such a bright, clear sky. In the helicopter, I was so tired. They kept tapping my face to keep me awake and talking. I don’t remember being unloaded or getting into the triage room. I came to when a nurse moved my hair out of my face, and the doctor stating I lost circulation to my right foot. While they were working on me, a detective who was on scene came in and was talking to me. He asked me to submit to a blood test to test for drugs and alcohol. I started to panic because I had 2 and a half beers over the course of 4 hours, 2 hours prior. He quickly assured me I did nothing wrong, and that I was answering his questions clear minded and with no hesitation. His next words made me doubt that it wasn’t my fault. The second helicopter was called for Rachel. Since the seat belt failed, they wanted to get her to the hospital because of how bad the crash was. The quickly realized a helicopter would do nothing to save her life, which is why they called it off. When I heard nothing more from her, I assumed they got her out and got her to the hospital. The detective stated that she was pronounced dead at the ER at a different hospital. The seatbelt was holding everything together, and she quickly bled out when they removed her. She died en route to the hospital. It was like my mind just stopped. I was dealing with what happened fairly well up to that point. I questioned him forward and backwards on it being my fault. He said that I did everything I could, given the situation. I did nothing wrong. I’ll never forget the nurse wiping my tears quietly and holding my hand. I was so tired and I felt like I was going to throw up. I truly just wanted to die. No matter what the detective said, I thought I killed my aunt. There was no coming back from that. I will never again achieve the peace I felt when they put me under for surgery the first time. I was so tired and heart weary that I just wanted to sleep forever. I had 6 more surgeries after that. I was lucky because my injuries were orthopedic. I didn’t have a TBI or a broken back or neck. I feel almost cheated because I took all the impact, but I didn’t die, or wasn’t so seriously injured I couldn’t come back from it. I should have died that night, not Rachel. I didn’t have children waiting for me, or an epic life to live after a divorce. I was living a mediocre life, with depression and struggled every day to wake up and go to work. Rachel was ALIVE. She was living her best life. I wasn’t doing that. I feel like I stole the life she should have had. I struggle every day with being so angry I can’t appreciate what my family is doing for me, through the loss they sustained. And then I just cry for the loss of independence I had. I had my cat and myself. That’s all I needed. It wasn’t much of a life I was living, but it was mine, and it was taken from me. I didn’t even die, but my life was taken from me. I have so much guilt for feeling likely life was I was robbed of a life, when in fact it was Rachel who was robbed. I don’t know how to deal with this guilt. I suffered a concussion, broken clavicle, left humerus fracture, compound fracture of my left radius and ulna, left acetabulum (hip) complete fracture, two fractures of my left femur, both knees broken, right lower tibia shattered, right lower fibula fracture, shattered all the small bones in my right ankle, and shattered my right heel in 16 different places. Most of the bones in my lower leg and ankle broke through the skin, and I loss blood flow to my foot. I have severe nerve damage to my foot. I can’t feel anything on the bottom of it, and my toes have a constant numb feeling to them. It’ll take years for me to regain feeling in it. They were able to repair my foot, but it’s possible I could lose it later. I almost wish I had lost it to pay my dues for the life I took from Rachel. At least with the loss of a limb, I might feel less guilty for surviving. It’s not rational or right to feel that way. I had to have an emergency left shoulder replacement exactly a week before my 25th birthday. It slipped out of socket and was positioned in such a way they were worried it would cause infection. I was mad that I’m 25, needing a shoulder replacement. Only the elderly needed that. Not me. My left hand is very weak, and my ring finger does not work. My pinky does whatever it wants. I am looking at a tendon graft to help repair the tendon damage done by the compound fracture. I took my first steps since the accident the day before what would have been Rachel’s 45th birthday. 99 days in, I walked. 100 days in, Rachel’s birthday came. I feel the anger, guilt, and sadness will never abate. The passenger of the other car walked away with minor injuries. A few scrapes and bruises, and he was released later that morning. The drunk driver is my age. She has 2 young children, who were waiting for her at home. In the backseat in one of her babies’ carseat were several open containers. She stunk of alcohol. She suffered a head laceration and a broken elbow. A $3000 bond later, and she was released to go back to her children. She’s facing 6 felonies and 2 misdemeanors, facing 34 years in prison. A part of me wishes she gets the full sentence, but the other part of me just doesn’t care. She changed so many peoples lives forever, and I don’t even know if she understands what she did or if she cares. Every day is getting better. Every day is a struggle. I’ll survive it, but sometimes I wish I didn’t have too.
