@galenkp. When I saw the questions, I was a little bit weirded out by the fact that I had planned to write something on this today.
Have you or someone else close to you been in a life and death situation?
Exactly two years ago, yesterday I got into an accident that left me bedridden for about a month. I literally couldn’t move or get up from the bed unaided and had to be carried everywhere at the time.
So, it happened one day while I was going to pick up my sisters from school. My dad had indicated that he’d be caught up in a meeting and wouldn’t be able to pick them up himself. And so, I had to make use of public transport.
Now, everyone in this part of the world knows that one of the most dangerous vehicles to be in is a motorcycle. This is mainly because motorcyclists are usually really careless drivers, and they go way over the speed limit. Using a tricycle would have meant the kids and I would have a long way to trek as our house is far from the highway so, I opted for a motorcycle. I honestly wish what happened next was caused by the cyclist though.
We’d been riding and the cyclist indicated that he had to fuel up the bike cause he was low on petrol, and as he made a U-turn, a car on the wrong side of the road, crashed into the bike and the next thing I knew I was flying in the air and landed on my waist at the tarred road.
I’d always asked myself what people who got into accidents usually feel at that single moment especially if it happens so suddenly. You feel nothing. Your life flashes before your eyes in that split second and you just know you’re going to die. No time to say your last prayers or think of anyone. None of that.
However, as the car threw me into the road, I kept hearing a voice that asked me to roll over. It was an insistent voice. And I don’t know where that fleeting surge of energy came from but I saw myself rolling to the side of the road. Barely three seconds later, I heard the sound of a mega truck barrel pass. The last thing I remembered was calling out my sisters’ names and then the world faded into oblivion.
I regained consciousness however just as I was about to get stitched up at the hospital. The first thing I asked my dad who had tears in his eyes was the whereabouts of my sisters. My dad said they were fine and that for some reason when the car slammed into the bike, I was the only one thrown to the road. I don’t know why that made me so happy. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if anything had happened to them. And with that assurance, I was at rest. (till the stitches anyway)
The doctor said I’d been given anaesthesia but I felt every prick of the needle. It was a most excruciating experience. A world of pain and thirty stitches later, I was transported back home where I remained on the bed, unable to use my legs for weeks on end. I kept looking at the huge bandages on my leg and I prayed earnestly to God that it wouldn’t leave a scar.
Of course, I was left with scars. At the time I felt so terrible. All my life I’d been hearing things like “girls aren’t supposed to have scars as they would be less attractive.” So, when I saw the ugly scars that lined my leg to my feet, I was inconsolable.
Till I asked myself “What if I had died?” At least I wouldn’t cry about the scars, would I? And that’s when my mentality changed. I’d been awkward at first and never wore anything other than trousers for a whole year but when that thought came to me, I realized how silly I’d been. There was no reason I shouldn’t be proud of my scars. It’s my evidence. My proof that I’d gotten face to face with the grim reaper, and I came out successful. I faced death and came out victorious, why should I be ashamed?
On the downside, I still do have a bit of phobia for bikes and on the rare occasions I’m compelled to use it as means of transport, I nearly rip off the cyclist’s clothes because of holding on too tight.🙂 But apart from that, I should say I’m in peachy form. I remember the experience occasionally and smile to myself. I’m one lucky girl ain’t I?💜
