April 29th (aka: My Rebirthday)

Today is an important day for me.

In 2006, at about a size 26/28, I started a new job and inherited my mom’s manual 1986 Honda Civic.  I hadn’t been driving very long (I started late), but was proud that I’d mastered the stick shift well enough to be trusted to drive the car back and forth to my new job.

All in all, things were going pretty well for me.

However, I found myself terribly sleepy all the time.  I relied on energy drinks to keep me from dozing through the work day and often reverted to screaming, pinching and slapping myself on the drive to and from work just to keep myself awake.

 

It was absolutely miserable.

Then 10 years ago, at 7:55 on the morning of April 29^th, I turned left onto the highway.  I blinked.

I opened my eyes just in time to see a white truck coming at me from ahead and to my right, turning onto the street I was traveling on.

It was too late to stop, so my instinct was to swerve.

I did not pass out for the duration of the accident or the recovery.  I was awake for the shattering of the glass.  I was awake for the tearing sound of the metal around me.  Even when a river of blood flowed down my face and into my eyes and mouth…I was awake.

I was awake as I realized the blood would ruin the blouse I borrowed from my mom without asking.  

I was awake as I remembered my dad’s golf clubs were in the back of the car and probably damaged.  

I was awake as I reached for my phone on the passenger seat and felt hot pavement instead.  To my left was the back seat of the car.

I was awake for the paramedics who used the jaw of life to remove me from the car, for the helicopter flight, for the intense violation of the trauma team as they checked my most private places for signs of injuries.

And I was never more painfully awake then when the police officer came to explain that I’d run a red light.  It was not until then that I learned witnesses said I’d run a red light.  When he told me where the accident happened, I realized I’d traveled driven two blocks while falling asleep.

The guilt and fear of knowing I could have hurt someone else…could have killed someone else…was the worst pain and trauma I experienced that day.

The “white truck” that hit me turned out to be a huge City Dump truck.

 

The truck hit my front right fender at an angle, heading towards the left rear of my car, tearing the compact car in half on a diagonal.  As the car splintered and folded in on itself, the supports stretched the roof of the car, pulling it lower.  My body jolted forward, clipping my nose on the rear view mirror, breaking a small bone in my nose while dislodging the rearview mirror from its place.  

Meanwhile, as the roof lowered and my head and body flew forward, the top of my head shredded the interior lining of the ceiling of the car until there was no padding left.  In turn, the unlined ceiling of the car ripped my scalp from my skull.  Although there was only internal bruising, it felt as if several internal organs had shattered into hard, sharp shards of glass inside of me – every movement causing me intense pain.

It took 50 internal stitches and 80 external stitches to repair my scalp; 130 stitches total.

I was released from the hospital ten hours later.

The next day, we went to see the remains of my car.  The passenger seat had been located ten yards away, we were told, and it was clear to see that the gas line was completely exposed.  It was absolute luck that it didn’t break or explode from the impact of the crash.  The tow yard workers looked at me in awe when they learned I was the driver.  Police and the tow yard employees had all assumed I’d be dead.

Those ten hours cost me $20,000.  Remember that new job I told you about?  My medical insurance didn’t kick in until Sunday, May 1^st.  Because my accident happened two days before that, I had no coverage.  I’m still working to pay it off.

So, why am I writing about this in a blog about weight loss?

Because that accident was how I learned I had weight-related sleep apnea.  It’s a condition where I stop breathing numerous times while sleeping.  The lack of oxygen causes my body to wake up to a point where I can breathe again, but this also disturbs the deep sleep a person needs to feel awake and refreshed the next day.

At a size 26/28, I was heavy enough that the weight of my fat was making it hard to breathe while I slept.  That is what caused the accident that could have hurt or killed people.

Furthermore, I was fat enough that the seatbelt didn’t fit me right.  My rotund belly would cause it to ride up until it was hitting my neck and choking me.  So, I had taken to wearing the shoulder restraining portion behind my back.  And this is the reason I flew so far forward that I broke my nose, was scalped and all my internal organs were so bruised.  Had I been thinner, I would have been wearing the seatbelt the correct way and could have avoided my injuries.

Believe it or not, I celebrate this day.  My family, friends and I called it my “Rebirthday”.

Why would we celebrate such an awful thing?

For one, I don’t want to ever forget.  Although I was undiagnosed, I made choices and mistakes that could have caused others their lives.  If circumstances had been different, I’d be in jail for vehicular manslaughter and I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to forget about it then.  Therefore, my good fortune doesn’t make me feel any less obliged to remember what happened.  It is a punishment, of sorts.  A constant reminder to make smarter, safer choices.

On the other hand, I’m alive.  I survived.  I’ve been reborn through the chaos of the wreckage.  No one else was injured, and all of that is cause for celebration.

You see, I’ve always believed in taking responsibility for your actions, which I do.  But that day was such a reminder of how very short life is, and that the best choice you can make on a daily basis is to acknowledge the things that make you happy.

Ten years ago today, I fell asleep while driving to work.

Now I’m at work, nervously and excitedly anticipating a life-altering surgery I will have in exactly two weeks’ time.

Preparing for another “rebirth” of sorts.  The birth of a thinner, healthier, even happier self.

Please be kind.