They tell me the light was red. For all I know it was Royal Blue with gold inlay. What I did see was a van in our path. It didn't really register we were going to collide with it until three seconds after we did. Seat belts locked, airbags deployed, and my brain imbibed a sound and smell I will never forget. When I opened my eyes, all I saw was white smoke and the airbag deflating. It wasn't until I freed myself from the passenger seat that I realized my glasses and my right shoe had been knocked off and that my driver was still inside. I was certain in my mind that he was trapped, so I ran to the driver side to see how bad the situation had become. By then it took little coaxing to get him out of the car to safer ground. Unfortunately we were in the center of a busy intersection, so safe ground was the middle island until help arrived. A couple Good Samaritans called for help and made sure we were remotely alright before police ad ambulance arrived, and once I was sure Geoff was alright I set my focus on retrieving things we'd need from the folded Volvo. I managed to get our glasses, wallets, my shoe, and my bag containing my airport badges and insulin from the front seat, but by then the pain was taking over my sense of deliberation. From there the EMT driver escorted us across the street and into the ambulance to get us to the hospital. Panic had not yet kicked in, but the moment she mentioned strapping me to the board I had premonitions of attacks to come and declined.
The hospital expedited Geoff to the ER and sent me to triage. I immediately felt nauseated, and the triage nurse handed me a shallow kidney shaped pink basin to throw up in should I feel the need. It seemed an ineffectual receptacle to me, so I prayed I wouldn't actually need to make use of it. From there I was taken back to the ER where I was introduced to Dr Charming. I didn't think real doctors were allowed to be that attractive. Geoff's mom checked in on me, and probably managed to show up just in time to waylay the panic as the tears were at that point starting to well. They hooked me up to a heart monitor, and IV of fluids, and a blood pressure monitor that appeared to be connected by a coaxial, and I wondered whether or not I got HBO. They then ran tests and set me up in a hospital gown to compliment the skirt I had been planning to wear to the play. Afraid the sharp pains in my abdomen were one of several things, they ran a pregnancy test and, narrowing out the possibility of a miscarriage, ordered a CT scan. Now, remember I'd been swallowing a majour panic attack since the initial impact. Remember also that I'm extremely claustrophobic in certain situations. I opened my eyes after the initial injection of dye to find my head was under the scanner and flipped out like a ferret on meth. It took them five tries to successfully get me to calm down enough to get a decent image, but by then it dawned on my that I was probably going to lose my job and I'd gone from panic to hopeless in 3 seconds. Transport wheeled me back to the ER, and from there we played the Waiting Game.
Apparently the one person who didn't know I was a diabetic was Dr. Charming, and he held me personally accountable for not disclosing such information immediately. So, when I asked for a cup of water I received a Styrofoam cup with "Jenn does not reveal medical history" emblazoned across the side of it. Obviously, Dr. Charming was in the mood for a smartass competition, so when I sent Geoff's mom for a refill I scribbled "Jenn is a Type I diabetic" across the other side and made sure she delivered it to him specifically. Well, as it turns out, Dr. Charming is not as good at tolerating smartassese as he is at dishing it out, so my cup was returned by him with "a PITA" added to "Jenn is". "It's an acronym," he informed me with a smirk, "know it?" Touche, Dr Charming, now give me the news.
The final word was that my kidney had a pretty severe contusion and that there were air pockets in my abdomen that may or may not have been caused by years of injections. The trauma of the night had sky rocketted my blood sugar over 600, and the decision had been made to keep me overnight. I had just enough time to visit Geoff before they wheeled me to a semi private room on the fifth floor in which, once Geoff's mom and sister took him home, was left laying to finally let the night's events sink in and take root. The pain made it hard to sleep, and the pain killers did absolutely nothing for me, so I watched several hours of Dirty Jobs with Mike Rowe to try and forget that I was alone in a hospital now knowing even what city I was in having people I didn't know touching me every couple hours. I don't handle hospitals well, and this was no exception. Finally I managed to fall asleep from sheer exhaustion.
When I woke up the pain was ten times worse than I remembered it being the night before, and nothing they gave me seemed to help. I managed to eat after fighting for insulin. Apparently the policy is to medicate based on what the numbers say at certain times in the day which do not match up with meal times. Where did these people learn about diabetes? I told the nurse I was either not eating until I was allowed a shot, to which I was told if my number was in a normal range I wouldn't be given insulin anyway, or they would let me follow my normal routine. I hadn't entered the hospital because of my diabetes, and I sure as hell wasn't going to have an extended stay there because they'd managed to make it a diabetes issue. Eventually I was allowed to talk to a physician's assistant who let me "bend the rules" and be medicated before my meals. They ran a bunch more tests, and around 1600 (that's 4pm, guys) I was set free. Geoff's mom picked me up, we filled my prescription, and we headed to their house where I showered ate dinner and fell asleep mumbling to myself.
I slept for a solid 12 hours before Geoff finally coerced me out of bed. I stumbled around for a couple more hours before I finally got my berrings on the day. Then we decided to figure out how Geoff was going to get clean with his arm in a sling and even slight movement of his arm close to unbearable. The following good chunk of an hour was spent putting that plan into action, but we cleaned him up before planting ourselves on the couch until dinnertime. After dinner, his brother drove me home where I am now.

So right now I'm extremely sore. I have a belt of Royal Blue with gold inlay stretching across my lower abdomen with a round bulb on my right hip, and a matching sash across my chest where the seat belt was. Unfortunately I was wearing a camisole, so there wasn't much between my chest and aforementioned seat belt. I've got broken skin on the arm I used to shield my face from the airbags (for those of you who don't know, I'm terrified of air bags) The bruises hurt immensely, my kidney stabs at intervals, and the cyst hurts I daresay worse than any miscarriage or surgery I've had. I didn't lose my job. I managed to talk to Cynthia yesterday, and she assured me I wouldn't be terminated. However, I can't go back to work until I'm cleared for normal lifting again, and that will depend on my kidney. So, I'm prepared to be broke soon.

And now I've gotten word that the boys have brought home food. Chad set me up a box fan, and I'm tremendously grateful. Here's hoping for a more comfortable tomorrow....

Categories: car accident [t]

that sounds painful. I hope you recover completely and quickly!
» LostSoul13 on 2007-06-26 11:16:55

Thank god you're okay.. Hope you recover soon..
» Nuttz on 2007-06-26 11:25:49

I'm glad you're okay, too. And I like that you use royal blue in your entry more than once.
» Dilated on 2007-06-26 11:30:45

sorry to hear you were in an accident, but I'm glad you're okay
» lazypuppy on 2007-06-27 12:49:31

nooooooooo
Wah! TT.TT I'm glad you're okay...feel better soon! Too bad about the pain. ={
» Silver-dot- on 2007-06-27 12:53:39

Yikes I'm sorry to hear that :( How are you feeling now?
» LittleBrit on 2007-06-28 03:12:02

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