COMPTON — In a moment, your life can be turned around. It took less than two seconds for my car, with my sister Jesley, 15, and I inside, to be t-boned, rear-ended and spin into the middle of the intersection, causing us to almost crash into a FedEx truck.
From what I recall, my sister and I were discussing a new shirt she just bought at Target. As she sipped her coffee, I saw from my peripheral vision a car quickly coming towards us, and knew there was no time to brake. I moved my right hand toward the chest of my sister, while my left hand tried to reach the steering wheel—then came the impact.
At the moment, my head was empty besides one single thought: if one of us needed to make it out of the car accident, it would be my sister. She still had much of life to live, learn and experience.
On July 1, a white Buick ran a red light and t-boned me from the driver’s side. Our car spun right resulting in the car behind me rear-ending us from the driver’s side, causing the car to spin left and in circles. I can’t remember what happened after the first hit, but I was told by witnesses and the man who collided with us how the events unfolded.
We both lost consciousness then, but I regained mine as soon as I started smelling smoke, feeling the heat and hearing my sister yelling and crying. As I turned to her, I noticed our car was still moving, moving toward a parked FedEx truck that would go right through the middle of us if it hit us. I tried to get out of the car, but the door was jammed.
My sister continued to cry and yell as she grabbed her lower abdomen. I saw men running toward my door, trying to help me open it while others helped my sister out of the car. At the moment, I felt nothing, I was fine.
Once out of the car I was able to move and ran toward my sister, and noticed she had bruises on her. As I looked up into the intersection, I saw the Toyota ended up crashing into another car and the light post. The lanes were littered with debris from my car.
When I was finally able to breathe, I felt numb. I didn’t know how to feel or how to react. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. I saw my sister yelling and cursing at the lady that hit us. I wanted to scream and cry but nothing came out, just a single tear rolling down my left cheek. I felt out of it, as if it was not real, as if I was not there.
As the adrenaline was settling, I began to regain my senses. I called my parents and they showed up in less than five minutes, as we were close to home. Soon the police showed up, but it wasn’t until I saw my parents that I was finally able to cry. It felt as if I had regained life, and all my emotions began to surface.
My sister explained to the cops the way the events unfolded, but when it was my turn to testify, I couldn’t compose a complete sentence, let alone make sense as to what had occurred. As I was showing my dad what was left from my car, my arm started to become numb. I could no longer move my arm, not even my fingertips, and that’s when I broke—I fell to my knees and cried at the top of my lungs, releasing all my anger, frustration and sadness.
My sister and I were taken to the hospital where I was told that due to the impact of the car, I was lucky that my shoulder was not broken. It was swollen and I could have dislocated it. Still it would take months before my shoulder was back to “normal.”
As a student, I rely on my arms and my fingers to be able to complete assignments–that became a challenge on its own. There would be days where I could not move my fingertips, and if I did there was pain.
But nevertheless, my fingertips were the least of problems— being under the influence of a high dose of medicines and having six different prescriptions that kept me either sleeping or in a haze was another struggle. People would talk to me and as much as I wanted to respond, my body wouldn’t react, as if I had no control over it.
One day I accompanied my dad to pick up food, and there was a car on his left side that kept trying to merge into his lane, but there was not enough space. Somehow he managed to get in, almost causing us to hit him, and at that moment I turned around and screamed to my dad. It was something I had never done, but I went off on him—that’s when I knew I was not okay.
I began physical therapy on July 6, as well as shock therapy and other alignment exercises to do at home. Despite being in therapy for over three months, the health of my shoulder has not improved as the chiropractor had hoped. I was given shots to help with inflammation, that made me nauseous, gave me wicked headaches and made me drowsy while my shoulder grew numb and stiff.
Therapy has been hard, and the aftermath of the accident has been a challenge. It took me over a month to become comfortable inside a car again, and to this day when I am in a car, I’m still on edge. I’m not the same since the accident, and I always fear another car accident. If I can avoid riding in a car, I will. I prefer staying home in the comfort of my bed rather than going anywhere.
I talked to my chiropractor and he prescribed me CBD, and for the excruciating pain from my back and shoulder, Ibuprofen 600 mg. I was on meds every minute of every single day, it was awful. But as time passed, I was able to get off medications and rely on exercise and hydro massages to get rid of the pain. Still there are days where I find myself grabbing for pills.
Physically, I am getting better. Emotionally, I’m struggling.
Before the incident, I was a lot happier. I am someone who enjoys working out, but that can no longer be an activity I practice because my back and arm cannot support those actions. I was one that loved to drive with my friends, and was the “designated driver.” It was an activity that soothed me partly because of my mom. When I was younger, we would always go on long drives with no destination, simply because we wanted to get out of the house.
Now I can’t sit on the passenger side of the car, I have to be in the back middle seat, looking down at all times because if I look up at the cars I get nauseous and anxious. While in cars I often fear that at any moment we will be impacted once again. I have good days where I can sit in the passenger seat and look out the windows and enjoy the ride, making me believe that I am improving and returning to my “normal” self. But that is just not the reality.
These days I’m often crying, angry or just not in the mood. I’ve come to have resentment in my heart toward life and that lady. She took everything. Before it all, I relied on myself to do my tasks but now, I need to ask for help. I rely on others; I feel like a burden. I am a 22-year-old woman and have to ask either of my parents, my brother, sometimes even my uncle if they can drive me to the store or if they can accompany me because I’m unable to do it by myself, and I hate it. I hate all of it.
But I know deep down that if I made it out of the incident with life and not much harm despite my arm, it is for a reason. I still have a lot of life to live, learn and experience. I need to comprehend that recovery is a process, a long one with ups and downs, but nevertheless one to help me. I need to be patient and understandable of everything.
Please be careful when driving, be alert at all times. Look to your left and right before crossing an intersection, because you never know when one individual might run a red light and it turns your life upside down. If you know anyone experiencing a situation similar to mine, please be patient with us.
Even though we might be angry at life and sometimes harbor attitudes, we need you. We need someone to be there for us. Don’t allow someone to fill their heart with resentment, because believe me, I can’t express enough how much it can change someone for the worst. Remind them to be patient, and that recovery is a long road.