Wednesday, September 4, 2013

When did driving cars become so bad? Why are people so careless?

Taking a one-day break from my historical blog to vent about today's drivers and the large amount of angry people today!

Last Friday, I bit the bullet and finally took my late sister's car out to head to an appointment about 45 miles away. The day before I had gassed it up and driven it a few miles and decided the time had come. She had a 2004 Hyundai Sonata that was a humdinger of a nice car in its day. It had low miles and a V6 in it, so it had just enough pep to make it enjoyable to drive.

The major thing about that car was my sister's ties to it. She passed away in February after a very long battle with congestive heart failure, kidney failure and a number of major strokes. We spent a lot of time in her car going to various appointments, restaurants, a few genealogical trips back to our mother's hometown and quite a few jaunts to Jamesport, Missouri – a wonderful little Amish town about an hour north that has great shops.

That car still had some of her hair in it, her coins, her dryer sheets that she used instead of buying air fresheners, her little cutter she kept in the ashtray just in case she got into a jam and had to cut herself out of her own seatbelt, her CDs, her blanket and pillow - just in case, an emergency kit, maps – you name it – Pris had it in the car. Of course, the piece de resistance was her giant, sunglasses designed for old people who wore them over their own prescription glasses.

The car was still just like it was the last time she drove it – two days before she went into the hospital for the last time.

It was her car and the last time I drove it, I took her home from the hospital in it just weeks before she died.

It was a big deal to get back into that car and drive it. So, that morning I took a deep breath and got inside, buckled myself up and said to no one in particular, "Let's go Pris."

I pulled away from our house, went up to the end of the street and turned left. I only went about 200 feet before a white car shot out of a business to my right and stopped, right dead in front of me. He had backed out instead of pulling out and he never looked. He said later that his passenger yelled, "Look Out!" and so he stopped instead of moving out of the way.

I couldn't even see the pavement in front of the car, we were that close – maybe just 10 feet or so. I hit the brakes and said to myself, "Oh crap, I'm going to hit anyway ... Oh no, Prissy's car!"

Sure enough, with both hands on the steering wheel, right foot on the brake – bracing for impact, I slammed into the guy's car at about 25 mph. BANG! Then POP! The airbag deployed and I smelled smoke. 25 mph doesn't sound like much, but after seeing the damage to my arms, I couldn't even imagine hitting a vehicle or object any faster than what I did.

And just like everyone else says, it all happened in just a few seconds. One second I was driving along, my body in as perfect shape as a 56-year-old can be, and the next second I was not the same.

I realized I was stopped, my hands still on the steering wheel and they hurt. I looked at them and started screaming. Always one to remain calm under pressure, just the fact I was having hysterics was enough to make me have hysterics. Miss control freak that I am – couldn't even control myself that morning.

Not understanding how airbags deploy, the smell of smoke frightened me to no end so, thinking the car was catching on fire, I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car, not even caring that I was leaving my purse and phone behind. So there goes the theory that I will always remember to grab them.

I was still in the middle of the road with no traffic either way. The car I'd hit, I had pushed back toward the business driveway he'd come out of and the driver was standing outside of his car staring at me, as was some 20-something woman who probably had never seen a gray-haired senior citizen having hysterics before, while simultaneously barking orders, "Call the police! Call the ambulance! Call my husband! Call somebody! Waaaaaaa!"

Immediately a wonderful worker from the Napa store came out and calmly escorted me inside so I could sit down. The manager, a woman – ran and got me icy wet towels to put on my wrists which were bright blue with busted blood vessels and so swollen that it looked like a blue deck of cards sitting atop my wrists. I was bleeding and burnt from where the accelerant from the airbag had gotten me. One of my rings was flattened on my right hand where I had gripped the wheel so hard that it bent the metal.

I had bruises on the back of my knuckles, my fingertips, surrounding my hands, insides of my elbows, and burns and bruises on my belly where my belt buckle, the seat belt and the airbag hit it. See what happens when your belly is bigger than your boobs?

Even though my glasses had been knocked off, my face was uninjured. For that I am so grateful as I am to the wonderful calming people in Napa.

I suddenly looked up and there were two gorgeous EMTs catering to my every need, though high on adrenaline, I was almost incoherent and talking unceasingly.

My husband was called - thankfully just around the corner - he hadn't left for work yet.

My insurance agent, her office just next door gave absolute perfect service with a smile by showing up and offering to handle that part of it. When State Farm commercials say they are THERE, they ARE.

The guy who hit me came up and looked terrified. I would be too - I was pretty scary with all the yelling I was doing - and I wasn't mad at him. It was an accident. But I told him my sister's car is gone now and he can never replace the sentimental value it had for me.

Somehow she had protected me and at least my injuries weren't worse.

It was a bad morning in our little town of 4,500. At 6 a.m. that morning, I'd been up having coffee and heard the Lifeflight helicopter flying overhead and said a quick prayer for whomever they were bringing in or taking out.

It turned out there had been a house fire in which an elderly couple had died. Even more bizarre, while I was in the ER awaiting a room, my dentist's assistant from a town 40 miles away, saw me sitting there and came in to see what was wrong – it was her grandparents who died. She took time out of her grief to see how I was doing and give me a hug.

The people that day were astoundingly wonderful to me. God graced me with his presence and watched over me.

Several hours later my wonderful chiropractor called to see how I was and offered to open his office over the weekend should I need a treatment before Tuesday (Monday being a holiday), and offered advice what to do for myself over the weekend ... ice, ice and more ice.

My closest local friend came over to sit with me all afternoon after clearing her schedule - without being asked. She'd been in a similar accident a few years ago and had had a heart attack after the accident due to the force of hitting the airbag knocking some cholesterol loose in her heart. She kept me going all afternoon while my husband dealt with the car, police report and insurance people.

My blood pressure after the accident was 218/118 - stroke levels as it was pointed out to me by the EMT who looked at me like he was going to have to revive me any second. He was pretty cute so I'm sure I wouldn't have minded, even at my age.

But I still wanted my husband and no one else.

I had to promise to go to the ER, but there was no chance I was NOT going to go – my arms were scary looking.

It took the entire weekend to get my BP back to a normal level.

And two days before I could sleep.

The day after the accident I had to give in and go to a jeweler to have my wedding and engagement rings of 27 years cut off my swollen fingers.

I still tend to babble a little incoherently.

Words don't come to me, guess my brain got all shook up – not a good thing for a 50-something writer.

What really shook me up? When my husband put me in his car and drove out of the parking lot to head to the hospital, we hadn't gone 300 feet when someone pulled out of the supermarket up the road and nearly T-boned us, just an eighth of a mile from where I'd just been hit.

While at the hospital, they had several more accidents incoming.

It wasn't even Friday the 13th.

Since then, I've been nearly creamed every day while driving through our little town. What gives? What's wrong with people? No turn signals. They don't wait until you pass before pulling out. Today the Schwan's food guy turned left in front of me - I was turning right and halfway into my turn when he shot out of a liquor store parking lot. He smiled and waved.

Glad I made HIS day. I nearly soiled my pants at the close call.

As I drove home today from my chiropractor's visit - feeling all good – I started taking account of how many people used their turn signals. In 43 miles, I only saw about 5 people use their signals. At one point, I was behind a lovely, bright blue Ford Fusion that made three turns in front of me and then a merge onto the highway - never once did she use a signal.

Yesterday a guy in a big red pick-up truck - bigger than my own SUV – cut me off at a 4-way stop sign when it was my turn to go and I was halfway through the intersection.

It's like I have a great big sign that says "HIT ME! I WAS JUST IN A CAR ACCIDENT! DO IT AGAIN!"

And of course I've realized that I'm the only human on the planet to be in a car accident, I laughingly told a pal today.

One of the things that I found sobering is that like most people, I've always felt that when someone says they've had someone go over the center line at them, a deer dart out in front or a car pull out in front of them and they had no time to react, that it was impossible. I always thought "you WILL have time to react." And I've always planned what I would do.

Then I found myself last Friday in the same place. Someone backed out in front of me at a high speed and I truly had no time to react and prevent the accident. I braced for the impact like I swore I would never do, knowing it causes more injury. I left my purse and phone in the car. I jumped out of my car, oblivious to the fact there could have been another car about to pass me. (there wasn't)

It's been 18 years since my last accident when a gal in a small car hit me head on in a snow storm. I was in an SUV and went into a snowbank - unhurt. The time before that I was hit head on in an accident similar to what I just went through, except I was going 55 and had the right of way that time too. Airbags didn't exist and I hit the seatbelt at 55 mph, pulling all the cartilage in my ribs – it took me over a year to recover.

I'm lucky it's been so long and lucky none of those accidents were my fault.

Well, it's really not luck. I pray for safe travel and God pretty much always answers those prayers and when he can't or won't – he sends an angel to make sure I'm OK and angels to look after me after the accident like he did that day.

I don't know why people are so careless, in a hurry or just plain don't care when they're driving. Sometimes they make stupid, careless mistakes and it costs someone their life.

Life is valuable and short. Take care when you drive, obey the laws, look both ways – a lot – before pulling out, drive the speed limit, be nice to your fellow drivers ... remember ... that other person is someone's loved one.




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