In the summer of 2006, something strange began to happen. I felt a compulsion to clean out and organize things. Especially at work, I sorted through twelve years of paperwork and stored most of my personal things in a few boxes.
That summer, my husband and I met with another couple weekly and prayed for the city we lived in. As we would talk afterward, I would feel strange. I told them I felt like something huge was going to happen.
One morning, I left for work. It was mid-summer and a beautiful day. I had a specific route I took and watched my time to adjust my speed if necessary. My commute was about half an hour. Early into the drive, I approached the first of four curves. There was another car already into the curve coming toward me. In the space of one second, I noticed several things. I recognized the driver. He was asleep, had leaned his head against the window, and he was going to hit me. My last thought was, "This is not going to be good."
When I came to, I couldn't breathe. There was a very high-pitched sound in my ears. Strangely, I was calm. I prayed, "God, if you want me to live, I must breathe." When I thought I would pass out, I finally took a breath.
My glasses were gone. I tried to look around, but there seemed to be a film on my eyes. My right hand was trapped in something. My left arm was on the door, but wouldn't move like I wanted it to. I tried to move my body, but it was pinned by the steering wheel. I felt no pain, and I noticed the birds were singing.
It was pretty early in the morning. I left early to try to beat heavy traffic. I wondered if someone was going to find me. Soon, I heard a woman tell me she had telephoned for help. I told her thanks. I asked her to try to call my husband, but he was filling his car with gas and didn't have his cell phone on him.
Shortly, I heard sirens. Someone asked which should be helped first, the guy or the gal. I yelled out, "Pick the gal!" My door was tried, but wouldn't budge, so they opened the passenger door. They couldn't get a brace around my neck; there was no room to maneuver it. So a policeman sat behind me and tried to keep my head against the headrest. I wouldn't obey and tried to see what they were doing to get me out. Later, I was told the firemen thought the cars would start on fire, but the policeman wasn't going to leave me.
An IV was started. I had never been in a hospital and definitely had never had an IV. I often boasted about how healthy I was even if I was overweight. I didn't even feel the needle go in.
After 30 minutes of trying to get me out, a canvass was flung over me. They were going to peel the roof off to get my door open. Now I was scared! I was beginning to feel claustrophobic, but being covered was the clincher. I tried to focus on listening to the metal being cut and wrenched, but my poor brain was through with being trapped. Panic set in and I started praying out loud. But, the ordeal was soon over, the door was opened, and I started falling out.
"You are getting a helicopter ride," someone said, but I didn't care. I started feeling pain. It was dull, but pain. And it started in my legs. By the time I was in the helicopter, I had a brace on my neck and an oxygen mask over my face. I tried to talk to the man with me, but he ignored me.
I felt worse and worse as we flew to the hospital. The last thing I remember, we had landed and we're going into an elevator.
For several weeks, I was in an unconscious state. I don't remember anything. My family said I could make motions to them, pulled out tubes, and fought restraints. I just remember waking after a dark dream and seeing my mother. I didn't recognize her, though. There were Angels standing behind her. Then I saw my husband and he asked me if something happened to me while I was 'out.' I nodded.
I was in the hospital three months. I was in pain a lot of time, but I tried to keep a good attitude. There was a lot of vomiting because of the very powerful pain meds. Starting from the top, my left arm was broken. I had been impaled onto the steering wheel which shredded the arteries that fed my intestines. I lost my large intestine, part of my small intestine, and bowel. My pelvis was sprung, which means my leg bones were not attached to the rest of my skeleton. My left leg was shoved into my hip socket, which was shattered. My left femur was broken in several places. My right knee was shattered, along with my right shin. My right foot was crushed. I also suffered from compartment syndrome. I had to have faciotomies on both forearms and right leg. So I lost the use of my left hand and partial use of my right.
The most amazing thing was, I died. I bled out during the initial surgery (and I've had thirty-six). I was given over 100 units of blood and had two trauma surgeons working on me. When my heart would stop, they would revive me.
In the waiting room, people started showing up. A lot of my church family was there. A few hours after my accident, my husband was finally found and contacted. My pastor showed up first and they thought he was my husband. The staff gave him the nice version of 'don't count on your wife living.' When he told them he was my pastor, they told him to prepare my husband.
When my husband arrived, he prayed with my pastor. Then something hit him. Out loud, he proclaimed that I was not going to die in a hospital. God was going to perform a miracle. And He did.
I'm not sure if it was during this time or another time days after when my heart stopped again, but I was standing in a very dark place. Then there was a very soft light. I was standing on something, but there was darkness all around. Then Jesus stood before me. He was so happy to see me. Joy beamed from His eyes even more than my husband's when I stood with him before the altar on our wedding day. I was standing on a pathway that was made of gemstones. He told me I must go back.
It has been eight years since that accident. I slowly get better. I am so thankful I had no head, neck, or back injuries. My kidneys had shut down, but after a few weeks, started back up. In the hospital, I'm known as the miracle girl.
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