One Choice

Ten years ago I was run off the road by a truck carrying construction debris while I was driving to high school.  It was march 15, the freakin Ides of March.

I lost control of my car & hit a culvert, flipping my car over, crushing the driver's side roof  down to dashboard height from front to back.

I was trapped in my car for 45 minutes, unable to move any portion of my body below my jaws.  My right arm was twisted behind my head & my left was strewn out to my side, unresponive to my commands to move it.

Blood was pooling in my mouth, draining from a broken nose down my throat, frothing as I breathed.  A breath in through my nose & out through my mouth would keep my airway clear.  A breath in through my mouth would cause me to inhale my own blood. 

So the choice of how to breath kept me alive.  A breath or two taken the wrong way, inhaling my own blood could have killed.  A breath or two the right way kept that same airway clear.

A breath or two was how close I came to dying.

twelve twelve
26-30, F
2 Responses Oct 12, 2006

Hope you are well now. All the best.

You make me feel lucky, and that's saying something lately.