I was so excited a few weeks ago when David Little emailed me saying he would be interested in contributing to Fix The Toaster.
Another voice and perspective.
David is a husband and father of three kids.
He lives in Alabama with his family and was in a horrible crash in 2008. The crash has led him to become an advocate for safe driving.
The driver that hit him and his whole family, was driving distracted.
A 100% avoidable crash.
It's hard to read about the crash but it's important. I have many questions for him and I look forward to getting to know him better and letting his voice be heard here on Fix The Toaster.
Here is David's writing about his crash. I copied and pasted it, with his permission via his personal blog.
Ripple Effect
Tossing even the smallest stone into a small pond causes multiple ripples that at first are very big, but soon multiply, decrease in size but still disturb the entire pond. Soon, the first ripples reach the sides of the pond and reverberate back onto the newer ripples. All because of that one stone, the tranquil setting of the peaceful pond has been drastically altered.
The stone hitting the water is an appropriate metaphor for a car crash that my family was involved in on December 20, 2008 that was caused by a distracted driver. But what happened after the stone hit the water? The far reaching ripples, the other parts of our story that go largely over looked and need to be shared. Who else was affected beyond our immediate family? The friends, co-workers, neighbors, church members all because of that one small stone, that one single moment of inattention.
No sooner had our car quit moving after the collision, had my wife Mimi, jumped out of her seat and grabbed our children, whisking them away quickly. Her initial fear was the car catching fire. She had no idea what would be below her feet when jumped out. A bridge? A ditch? Wet ground, mud? Pavement? Her instinct was to get the kids and run, and that’s what she did, to where I had no clue. No one talked. The kids didn’t say anything. Mimi didn’t say anything. Those first seconds were silent.
Initially she had the kids stand by a large tree. Telling our oldest child Caroline, who was 7 at the time, to watch her sister Layne who was 5 and her brother Grey who was 2, and to not move from that spot. It’s one of the few times all three of our kids minded their Mama.
Mimi came back to check on me and was in near hysterics, and since I couldn’t see myself, her descriptions of how I looked, folded up between my seat and dash, are all I have. I had a broken nose and was bleeding pretty badly. I was spitting blood out of my mouth; I had blood all over my face, my ears, all over my shirt, and she was certain I had an internal injury that would cause me to bleed out and die in front of her. I told her however, “I am fine, I’m ok. I’m just stuck”. Her tearful near hysterical response was, “You’re not ok”!! Thanks to a healthy dose of adrenaline I really wasn’t in much pain, other than the discomfort of my position.
By now a family at a nearby house who heard the commotion gathered and sat with our kids on their front porch. Some of the first strangers who would be affected by the ripples.
Between the rush of adrenaline, fear, shock, and uncertainty in those first moments, Mimi became nauseous. Running between our vehicle to check on me and back to the kids, over and over, she was soon overcome and became ill.
When Mimi called my dad, the first ripple to reach a family member, he initially thought I was dead. In her panicked state of mind, it was too difficult to put into words what had happened. Thankfully, she was able to convey the message, and he understood that we had been in a crash and that I was injured. My parents, in Huntsville, loaded up to come to us. My dad was driving and was trying to figure out the quickest way to get to the crash scene, which was about 15 miles away in a neighboring county. My mom, ever the level headed one, told him to go to the hospital. That was where we would be heading and they would meet us there.
Keith C., our first Good Samaritan, and there were many that night, was the first to my side. He helped me try to convince Mimi that I was ok, of course to no avail. The ripples had reached another stranger. Keith remained by my side for nearly the entire time we waited for emergency responders to arrive. Keith offered continual reassurances that help was on the way. The initial surge of adrenaline was wearing off and I was beginning to hurt and was having trouble breathing. Keith would add a small burden to his life through all of this. I had hunting gear in the back of my car. I had recently been duck hunting and my jackets, back pack, waders, etc. were all in the back of my now totaled car. He collected everything and brought them to Huntsville for us.
My children watched as I was cut from our vehicle with the Jaws of Life and placed on a backboard and then a gurney. I have watched a few crash re-enactments over the past few years and it is very difficult for me. The hardest part to watch was the time before emergency crews arrived. I can only imagine what it was like for my kids. The sounds and smells of diesel engines, the flashing lights, ambulances, police cars, fire trucks and their mother frantically running back and forth from them to me.
As I was loaded into the ambulance, the paramedics asked Mimi if she wanted to ride with me or the kids, who were ok, but needed to be evaluated at the Hospital. She had no time to choose between riding with them to the Women’s and Children’s Hospital to the main Hospital with me. They didn’t want to ride in an ambulance anyway, so my brother and sister and law, who we had just arrived at the scene and thankfully offered to transport the kids so that Mimi could ride with me, still the ripples spread.
Unfortunately the weather that night wasn’t conducive for a med flight helicopter to come get me. I would endure a very bumpy 15 mile ride to the hospital. Mimi rode up front, and I could clearly hear her asking the driver if he could go faster. She knew we had a long way to go and was still worried about internal injuries that I may have suffered. The driver did his best and we got there pretty quickly for wet slick roads.
Soon, I was laying in the emergency room, my family had arrived, and things began to settle down. By now I knew I was hurt, I could feel me left hip moving freely out of its socket. My left collar bone was broken. I could feel and hear the loose clicking of bone rubbing together. My breathing was labored due to broken ribs and a collapsed lung. Still I had felt like I would be checking out soon and this would all be over. X-rays and CT scans provided both good and bad news. The good news was that my head was ok, and I had not sustained serious internal injuries and I was stable. The bad news: I was indeed broken up pretty badly along my left side, and would not to be checking out anytime soon, Surgery was scheduled for the next day.
My doctor informed me that I would not be able to walk for at least 12 weeks. I would need a wheelchair and then, when my collar bone healed, a walker. We all realized that I would not be able to go home when I was discharged. I’d live with my parents, leaving Mimi at home with three small children, to carry on the daily routines.
On Christmas Eve 2008, I moved from Huntsville Hospital main, to the rehab hospital across the street. Shortly after checking into my room, our associate Minister Coy Hallmark came with Christmas Eve communion. Coy, my dad and I all took communion together in the hospital.
The ripples really began to reach far and wide throughout my hospital stay. My dad, bother and Mimi all took turns staying with me, until I convinced them that I was fine and could stay by myself. It was Christmastime and friends came out of the woodwork with meals, and offers to help the kids. The support network made all the difference for Mimi. I was never alone for very long. A steady stream of visitors kept me company and of course the nurses had to come take my vitals every 4 hours or so. I had a small TV in my room and fell in love with the Game Show Network. Gene Rayburn and Match Game provided plenty of laughs.
Finally, on January 5, 2009 I was discharged and moved to my parent’s house. Their house was fairly accessible on the inside but needed a wheelchair ramp and as good fortune would have it a friend of my parents had built a beautiful wheel chair ramp for me.
Early in my recovery at home, deep sleep wasn’t really possible due to the pain and medication I was taking and since nature called every night I had to use a bed side jug. Dad was chief pee jug emptier.
Not only did Dad empty my jug, but he was my primary chauffeur as well. For several months, three days a week, we’d load up and he’d take me to my physical therapy sessions where I was getting stronger and would soon learn to walk again. My mom or Mimi would come and get me.
Life at home for Mimi and the kids wasn’t close to normal, but countless friends came to the rescue and we didn’t have to prepare a meal for months! As the ripples kept spreading, folks added to their already busy schedules preparing meals for us.
As my recovery progressed I was soon able to drive myself around. I was still using a wheel chair because crutches aggravated an old back problem. My zero weight restriction on my left leg was still in place, so I’d load the wheelchair in the back of my truck, and hop on my right leg to the driver’s door.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is something I never thought I’d deal with. For a long while I couldn’t stop thinking about the crash. I couldn’t drive by the ambulance bay at Huntsville Hospital without a mental video of the crash playing in my head. I would avoid that area of town. Once my recovery was over, and as I was trying to reestablish my life and routines, I soon found the memories of the accident begin to consume me. Where the physical therapy and initial recuperation commanded a large part of my mental a physical capacity, I was now left with the memories of that night that would play over and over in my. Next I was asking myself all sorts of questions. What if I had been driving slower, faster? What if we had had one more cup of coffee after dinner, or had left earlier, or later? What if we had not taken the trip at all? Questioning every minute of that day and how one minor change could have prevented all of this.
A few sessions with an excellent therapist helped me immensely, and I learned the “drop the thought”. Five years hence I can now talk about the event freely, and when I do think about it when I am alone, it’s brief, and soon gone from my mind.
Caroline and Layne were 7 and 5, respectivley. They had just stopped sharing a bed at the time of the crash, and while I was with my parents they’d sleep with their Mama. Caroline was asleep when the crash happened, in the back of the car. It would be several years before she’d want to sleep alone. She confided in Mimi that she knew her parents couldn’t protect her from everything, and to be asleep and to wake up from a head on collision was traumatic in more ways that we can ever really know. Grey was had not yet started talking. He was a late developer. He did however have toy cars, and he’d play with them and reenact the crash often. Verbal sound affects and all.
I had moved back home in early March and Physical Therapy continued in to May. Nearly 6 months. I was on two feet again, bi-pedal as I like to call it. I used a cane for a few months and lost my limp. Everything seemed to be back in line and right with the world. But it really wasn’t. Life has never been like it was before crash. We still talk about it. The memory is as fresh and real as it if happened yesterday for me and my family. Driving has never been the same. Every oncoming car is a potential threat now.
I think we all have mental time lines and use them to view our past. We remember vacations, anniversaries, and first days of school, other key dates and milestones. All those memories find themselves on that mental timeline. Still, tragic events do as well. Deaths of loved ones, historic events like September 11th. We view our personal history as pre-or post crash. We look at pictures and can tell if they are pre or post crash. Our family will never have another Christmas without thinking about the crash.
Looking back, it is astounding to think of all the disruptions that occurred in other people’s already busy lives. It is equally humbling to know what others endured because of the crash. My parents gave up a trip to the Bahamas to care for me. The kids celebrated part of Christmas at home without me and part of it with me at the Hospital. So many good friends ran errands for Mimi, took the kids to school, to the park, and made us meals. Through all of this, the real head scratcher, the one thing that makes you step back shaking your head is to know that none of this had to happen. Every bit of this was preventable. One innocent, inconsequential text message from a cell phone, sent from a nice young man in a brief lapse of judgment to his father, letting him know he was on his way home from church. A message he had always sent from the parking lot, until that night, when he sent it as he drove down the highway.