Saturday

On Saturday morning, my friend A called me. I saw her name on my phone and happily picked up, thinking she would suggest breakfast. Instead, she was crying. Our friend, J (not J from college, Colgaters) has been in a terrible car accident and was in the hospital. We weren’t sure how it happened – if she was hit, if she fell asleep and hit someone. She dropped A off at her place around 2 am to drive home, but she never made it.

A wanted to know if I could drive us to see J (A doesn’t have a car). Of course we could. The hospital was only about ten miles away, but we stupidly got lost on the way there. I admit that I was a little off and possibly missed a turn. I stopped at a gas station and a man inside knew where we were going and provided great directions.

We got to there at about 10am and parked. At the information desk we were told how to get to J’s room. We took the elevator and moved through the brightly lit, bustling hallway to get to her room, but we were stopped by a set of double doors labeled: “Progressive Care, please call for assistance”. I was unnerved by the added layer of security, as I’d assumed we’d just be able to walk in and see her. The nurse said that we could come in to the unit.

Once we got to J’s room I could barely see her outline in the bed she looked so small. Other than seeing my college boyfriend in the school hospital, I’d never seen anyone who wasn’t “an old person” in a hospital bed. Also, she wasn’t in a sitting-up position chatting and laughing (as I see her in my head) she was lying down flat for safety and wincing in pain.

A and I immediately placed the lily we’d bough on the way over on the table and went to J’s side to hold her hand and stroke her hair and ask how she was. Her mother also came into the room from the hall (where I think she’d been on the phone with family). A brief discussion revealed that she’d been hit at least twice and possibly three times (the first time spinning her out of her lane) she’s broken her pelvis (in three spots as it turned out) and also one vertebra. Her nurse came in at one point to administer morphine (even though she’d just received some, but she was in such pain) and said that she luckily wouldn’t need surgery since her breaks were all clean and/or minor and would heal on their own, but that she wouldn’t be walking for a couple of months at least and would then need physical therapy.

During our visit, J’s sister and father came in after getting all of her belongings from the car. They’d taken pictures. Not only did the rescue team have to remove the driver’s door and roof from the car to pry her out, but the car itself looked like someone had wrung it like a rag. It’s not hyperbolic to say that it’s amazing and shocking that she made it out alive, let alone without any head/neck damage or more broken bones.

A and I left the hospital a little before 1pm so that A could get to work. I’d planned to go out to the Lizard Lounge that night, but I didn’t really feel like drinking and dancing and yelling for bands (not that there’s anything wrong with doing that; I just felt more contemplative). I talked to my Man who was driving home from skiing in Maine. I asked him to drive carefully and I held on to him tightly when he did get back.

J is a beautiful, tolerant, welcoming person who has the power to make you feel good even when you feel awkward, out of place, and lame. She’s a nanny, a sister, a friend, a music lover, and a wonderful hostess.

Please send healing, loving thoughts her way, even if you don’t know her.
And of course, wear your seatbelt.