Thursday, May 19, 2011

the worst week ever vol. 2: the accident

Very early Sunday morning, around 12:15am, Corban and our good friend Stephen were involved in a car accident. Stephen was driving his beautiful, bright orange Nissan 350 Z (RIP) to get some delicious late night tacos when the backend got out from under him and the car spun around, hitting a tree on the passenger side where my husband was sitting.

Stephen was able to walk away from the car and call me. I immediately ran over from the apartment to this scene.


I have never in my entire life been so terrified or distraught. Looking back, I'm sure I looked just like a hysterical woman from a dramatic Oscar-winning film. Corban had lost consciousness for a few minutes and was pinned in the car. The next heart-wrenching forty-five minutes were spent watching a team of large men in neon jump suits literally cut him out of the car.


I had never fully understood the phrase "jaws of life" until that moment.

Though reports kept coming back to me that he was talking and moving, the medical team decided to care-flight him to a hospital twenty miles away. I miraculously drove to the hospital without being involved in an accident myself around 1:30am and was finally allowed to see him around 2:00am. We then waited until about 4:00am to hear that all of his x-rays and CAT scans had come back...and everything was ok. No broken bones, no concussion. He should have broken his ankles at least, but instead just had bruises, swelling, and a few minor cuts. It was amazing. He was even able to walk (with considerable assistance) out of the hospital.


We all went out and got burgers (the whole taco thing being a total bust) and returned home around 6am.

Longest day of my life.

The past fews days we have been shown overwhelming support from family, friends, and co-workers; we have received everything from well-wishing texts to fulling prepared meals delivered to our door. Today is Corban's first day back at work, having spent the past several days propped up on the couch icing his ankles, and being waited on hand and foot. Between him and the bandaged kitty, it's like a freaking trauma ward in here.

It's amazing the perspective that one can get from this kind of thing. Of course I know that I love my husband and tell him so many times a day; but, it's still so easy to take things for granted and forget how very very lucky I am. Driving to the hospital, the only thing I could think was "please just let him be ok, please let me keep my husband, please let me touch him and talk to him again." I wasn't thinking about money or inconveniences; I just wanted to kiss him and know that everything would be ok. All of a sudden all those little stressful, nit-picky things went away, and I just felt grateful to have someone to love who loves me. It would be my worse tragedy to lose that.

In the end, my little family (husband, kitties, and friends) is ok, and that makes me the luckiest girl in the world.

PS - See Tuesday's post for a little video of my husband and kitty being all pathetic and wounded. They are super adorable.

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