Dec 14, 2008, started like any other day. The usual Sunday routine of reading the paper and such. This particular Sunday we were going to my aunt's house for a pre-Christmas get-together. That went well and my wife and I were going to drop by my father's to see him as it is nearly on the way home.
Here's where it all went horribly wrong:
Google Map, Site "B" is approximate accident site
At about 4:00PM on that overcast Sunday, I was driving from Bee Springs, KY to Sunfish, KY on Hwy 238. I've driven this road many times on both 2 and 4 wheels without any problems. I came up this hill just before you head down to Bear Creek, coasting in 6th, which was bleeding speed when I crested the hill. The road drops down and makes a pretty hard right turn down to the creek. I think I tapped the brakes to bleed some more speed when the rear end oversteered, causing the front to point into the center of the turn instead of understeer out into a guard rail. My wife remembers me saying, "OH SHIT!" as the rear end drifted. She now recalls thinking it felt like we hit gravel. She said she wasn't afraid until I said that because she had the greatest faith in my ability to correct it. I only wish her faith had been enough.
We were sliding sideways in the inside shoulder and ditch area. As I looked helplessly out of the driver's door window, I could see the tile and driveway coming up fast on my side. I thought to myself, "This is going to hurt!" I fully expected to hit it pretty solid and come to a shrieking halt. Instead, we sort of skidded, straddle of the ditch and just caught a piece of the raised driveway. This immediately flipped the car and it continued to roll sideways.
It landed on the corner of the roof and passengers windshield pillar, not quite making what appeared to be a 270 in the air. When it hit, the hardtop, top glass, passenger windows and windshield all crunched, doing what we'd expect. The top appears to have collapsed down to the roll bar. This is what probably a) saved our lives and b) allowed my wife to survive a thump on the head with a serious but survivable blow to the skull with no cranial damage. I finally developed a small bruise on my right elbow from the shifter. I suspect having a steering wheel in my hands made a difference. No airbag deployment, either.
She, fueled by adrenalin, immediately jumped out of the car. My door, although glass intact, was wedged into the fender, making my egress more difficult. Upon finding her standing, I asked her if she was OK and she said she was dizzy. A few seconds (maybe?) later she said she was bleeding. I had towels in the trunk, which still opened, and put one on her head to stop the bleeding.
Someone, a good Samaritan, stopped and turned around. They had a house call 911 as cell coverage in this area is pretty sad. They also let my wife get out of the wind and sit in their car. We now believe her sunglasses flipped up onto the top of her head before the roof contacted her head to cause the two 40mm (1.5 inches?) gashes in her scalp.
I was trying to get cell coverage, dial 911, check on my wife and not having much luck at anything. Miraculously, the ambulance shows up in what seemed like 10 minutes and they started evaluating my wife. They put a collar on her and decided to put her on a backboard as it was getting dark.. Before the ambulance leaves, I have a local guy haul the car to his shop and the Sheriff's deputy gives me information on how to get a report. I snap two pictures as a "They'll never believe it if I don't take a picture" idea. Quality sucks but my mind was heavily influenced by massive doses of adrenalin, fear for my wife and general anxiety.
After a 40 minute ride to the hospital of my choice, we arrived at The Medical Center in Bowling Green around 6:30PM. They do a cat scan before removing her from the backboard. The ER doctor showed me the scan and said they were sending her to a trauma unit and Bilkmore Hospital was the closest as they felt it required a specialist's decision. Even my untrained but keen eye could see that the C2 vertebrae was in three pieces. She never did get off the backboard. They would have airlifted her to Bilkmore but the winds were too high. She went by ambulance with paramedics and I had my daughter pick me up and take me home to get her some clothes and prepare for whatever came next.
When I arrived at Bilkmore around 9:45PM, they had already stapled the two cuts in her scalp. She had just returned from more scans and doctors were debating surgery (most extreme), the halo or just a cervical brace. Around 12:30AM, they decided on a halo as surgery on this area is highly risky if other options are available. I really don't remember them asking consent and had I not been numb, I'd have demanded a second opinion.
At 2:00AM the orthotic guy arrives and measures her for a halo and vest. Having no cell coverage and no internet access is a curse. I now know they brought a medium, measured her twice and left the medium to be installed when she is definitely a better fit in a large.
At 2:30AM the neurosurgeon started installing the halo. He seemed impaired, like sleep-deprived. If you've never seen them screw metal into someone's head, someone you care about, you have no idea what it is like. They have these little torque drivers that break at 8foot/pounds as they are driving pointed spikes into my wife's skull. The doctor seemed to be peeved at me when he would reference someone coming by "tomorrow" to tighten the halo and discharge us. Since it was after midnight, I wanted to be sure he was referring to later this day as it was deep into Monday.
After the metal was secured into her skull at four places, the team slid the vest under my wife. They did not get it centered and as I write this 13 days later, it is still not straight. The impaired doctor was having problems getting the rods to align in her vest and halo. Being a highly mechanical person, I pointed out that the attaching hardware slid in several directions to allow him to connect them. He didn't appreciate my comment and snidely said, "Who's the professional here?" To my credit, I kept quiet but I wanted to say, "Maybe we should get one!"
By 4:00AM she had been given multiple shots of morphine and two liters of saline. Neither she nor I had eaten or drank anything since 3PM the previous day. We finally managed to get out of there around 11:30AM Monday. We arrived back in Bowling Green around 1:00PM and proceeded to get her comfortable. We have since found out this is impossible.
Prognosis is good for a full recovery but the pain is intense and constant. We go back for a "two-week checkup" on Jan 8th, 2009. If you do the math, that is three and a half weeks.
Here's where it all went horribly wrong:
Google Map, Site "B" is approximate accident site
At about 4:00PM on that overcast Sunday, I was driving from Bee Springs, KY to Sunfish, KY on Hwy 238. I've driven this road many times on both 2 and 4 wheels without any problems. I came up this hill just before you head down to Bear Creek, coasting in 6th, which was bleeding speed when I crested the hill. The road drops down and makes a pretty hard right turn down to the creek. I think I tapped the brakes to bleed some more speed when the rear end oversteered, causing the front to point into the center of the turn instead of understeer out into a guard rail. My wife remembers me saying, "OH SHIT!" as the rear end drifted. She now recalls thinking it felt like we hit gravel. She said she wasn't afraid until I said that because she had the greatest faith in my ability to correct it. I only wish her faith had been enough.
We were sliding sideways in the inside shoulder and ditch area. As I looked helplessly out of the driver's door window, I could see the tile and driveway coming up fast on my side. I thought to myself, "This is going to hurt!" I fully expected to hit it pretty solid and come to a shrieking halt. Instead, we sort of skidded, straddle of the ditch and just caught a piece of the raised driveway. This immediately flipped the car and it continued to roll sideways.
It landed on the corner of the roof and passengers windshield pillar, not quite making what appeared to be a 270 in the air. When it hit, the hardtop, top glass, passenger windows and windshield all crunched, doing what we'd expect. The top appears to have collapsed down to the roll bar. This is what probably a) saved our lives and b) allowed my wife to survive a thump on the head with a serious but survivable blow to the skull with no cranial damage. I finally developed a small bruise on my right elbow from the shifter. I suspect having a steering wheel in my hands made a difference. No airbag deployment, either.
She, fueled by adrenalin, immediately jumped out of the car. My door, although glass intact, was wedged into the fender, making my egress more difficult. Upon finding her standing, I asked her if she was OK and she said she was dizzy. A few seconds (maybe?) later she said she was bleeding. I had towels in the trunk, which still opened, and put one on her head to stop the bleeding.
Someone, a good Samaritan, stopped and turned around. They had a house call 911 as cell coverage in this area is pretty sad. They also let my wife get out of the wind and sit in their car. We now believe her sunglasses flipped up onto the top of her head before the roof contacted her head to cause the two 40mm (1.5 inches?) gashes in her scalp.
I was trying to get cell coverage, dial 911, check on my wife and not having much luck at anything. Miraculously, the ambulance shows up in what seemed like 10 minutes and they started evaluating my wife. They put a collar on her and decided to put her on a backboard as it was getting dark.. Before the ambulance leaves, I have a local guy haul the car to his shop and the Sheriff's deputy gives me information on how to get a report. I snap two pictures as a "They'll never believe it if I don't take a picture" idea. Quality sucks but my mind was heavily influenced by massive doses of adrenalin, fear for my wife and general anxiety.
After a 40 minute ride to the hospital of my choice, we arrived at The Medical Center in Bowling Green around 6:30PM. They do a cat scan before removing her from the backboard. The ER doctor showed me the scan and said they were sending her to a trauma unit and Bilkmore Hospital was the closest as they felt it required a specialist's decision. Even my untrained but keen eye could see that the C2 vertebrae was in three pieces. She never did get off the backboard. They would have airlifted her to Bilkmore but the winds were too high. She went by ambulance with paramedics and I had my daughter pick me up and take me home to get her some clothes and prepare for whatever came next.
When I arrived at Bilkmore around 9:45PM, they had already stapled the two cuts in her scalp. She had just returned from more scans and doctors were debating surgery (most extreme), the halo or just a cervical brace. Around 12:30AM, they decided on a halo as surgery on this area is highly risky if other options are available. I really don't remember them asking consent and had I not been numb, I'd have demanded a second opinion.
At 2:00AM the orthotic guy arrives and measures her for a halo and vest. Having no cell coverage and no internet access is a curse. I now know they brought a medium, measured her twice and left the medium to be installed when she is definitely a better fit in a large.
At 2:30AM the neurosurgeon started installing the halo. He seemed impaired, like sleep-deprived. If you've never seen them screw metal into someone's head, someone you care about, you have no idea what it is like. They have these little torque drivers that break at 8foot/pounds as they are driving pointed spikes into my wife's skull. The doctor seemed to be peeved at me when he would reference someone coming by "tomorrow" to tighten the halo and discharge us. Since it was after midnight, I wanted to be sure he was referring to later this day as it was deep into Monday.
After the metal was secured into her skull at four places, the team slid the vest under my wife. They did not get it centered and as I write this 13 days later, it is still not straight. The impaired doctor was having problems getting the rods to align in her vest and halo. Being a highly mechanical person, I pointed out that the attaching hardware slid in several directions to allow him to connect them. He didn't appreciate my comment and snidely said, "Who's the professional here?" To my credit, I kept quiet but I wanted to say, "Maybe we should get one!"
By 4:00AM she had been given multiple shots of morphine and two liters of saline. Neither she nor I had eaten or drank anything since 3PM the previous day. We finally managed to get out of there around 11:30AM Monday. We arrived back in Bowling Green around 1:00PM and proceeded to get her comfortable. We have since found out this is impossible.
Prognosis is good for a full recovery but the pain is intense and constant. We go back for a "two-week checkup" on Jan 8th, 2009. If you do the math, that is three and a half weeks.
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