Happy Life Day To Me

Just an hour ago, I experienced post-traumatic stress syndrome. No, this isn't going to be a lead-in to a funny thing that happened or about something I saw on TV or in the news.  This near-panic attack was caused by actual post-traumatic stress.  You see, 13 years ago this evening was when I had my wreck that almost killed me. 

That evening of July 26, 1992, I was on my way back from Mike Linig's Restaurant, bringing home fish for supper.  The wreck happened less than a mile from my house.  It was actually in front of my cousin's house.  He heard the crash, and recognized the car I was driving (Mom's new Blazer) and he called Mom and Dad and told them.  Of all of the pain and crap I went through getting my foot rebuilt and the rehab afterward, the part of the whole experience that bothered me the most was seeing the look of horror on my Mother's face when Dad and she walked over to where I was.  They got there before the fire department and the EMT's, and I was still in the Blazer, waiting for them to pry open the door and get me out.  I never want to see that look on my Mother's face again. They flew me by Stat-Flight helicopter to University Hospital, and thank the Lord, my only injuries were a big gash on the top of my head and a shattered right foot.  I was in the hospital a week and a half, and was off from work almost six months.  But I made a full recovery, and other than arthritis and the fact that my right foot is almost half a size bigger than my left foot, there was no permanent damage. 

A good friend at work also had a near-fatal wreck, and on the anniversary of his wreck, he and his family celebrate what they call "Life Day."  When he explained to me about his wreck, and about how on Life Day they all do something together as a family, I decided to call the anniversary of my wreck "Life Day", too.  But to be honest with you, with a lot of things going on with me and loved ones right now, I didn't think a thing about today being Life Day until almost the exact time of the wreck this evening. At work, I knew it was July 26, but it didn't click until tonight.  I was on my way to Mike Linigs to get fish for supper when I remembered that 13 years ago, almost to the very minute, was when I had my wreck. For a second ortwo, I started to turn up a side street and go to another place for fish instead.  But I decided to conquer the fear and went on to Mike's.  I even had them put the fish in a cardboard box to carry out, like they did for me 13 years ago.  Then I got in the BMW, got buckled in, and made the 2 mile trip home. I drove on through the place where the wreck happened, and truthfully had an eerie felling; I could have sworn I still saw the skidmarks, too.  But I drove on, and made it home with supper this trip, unlike 13 years ago tonight.