Flashback

           A few days ago B and I decided since we were both off she wanted to take me to one of her favorite swimming spots…It’s a river about 45 minutes away that you have to climb over rocks and boulders to get to. Once you climb down into the water it’s rushing through more rocks and in between boulders in some places and then flows into more peaceful patches that you can lounge comfortably in. 
 
  We set out this morning about 10:00 am, perfectly ready to spend several hours in our bathing suits, swimming in the water and drinking some hard cider I packed into a cooler.  The drive to this destination was beautiful! Smoothly paved, tree-lined roads and barely any sign of civiilzation except for a random cabin or farm house along the way. Yet I had this horrible feeling of dread. Anxiety got thicker and thicker in my stomach with each dip and turn and curve. The last time it was so severe was when I was in a car accident at 16…and later when my mom’s best friend had been arrested for murder..it’s just this horrible feeling in your core…you feel how bad it is…like a train bailing down a track at full speed and you’re tied to it with no way off. THAT kind of dread. 
 
   For whatever reason the speed limit on these twisting, turning, hilly, back roads was something like 55mph. We were so far out in the middle of nowhere I couldn’t even tell you how far back the last gas station was. We were actually getting a little worried as some dark clouds were rolling in and it had begun to drizzle. But it’s summer and the weather in this state changes every five minutes, (I swear.) About 40 minutes into our drive a small white two door pick up pulled out onto the road behind us and was traveling a pretty safe distance away. 
 
    She kept asking me if I was okay and why was I pressing on imaginary breaks and gripping the door handle.."I am sorry B. I am a horrible passenger sometimes. Since my accident there are times when I just get nervous and scared…It’s not you, really. It’s just me." 
  "Haha. Oooookay…don’t worry Hanna. I am not going to kill us!!"  and I was laughing nervously when B rounded a small downward curve in the road and was preparing to turn left onto the next road. When she looked into the review mirror to make sure the white truck noticed she was slowing down to turn and half way through the turn a look of absolute horror came over her face. And then I heard the crunch. She starts yelling "Oh my God" over and over as she pulls over onto the side of the road and I look back just as the truck does it’s last roll and crashes upside down into the grassy gutter on the right side of the road. I bailed out of the car as she struggled to get the key out of the ignition. I made sure there was no cross traffic before I bolted back across the street to the upside down truck. I am standing on what would be the passenger side and the camper and the cab are completely smashed into the ground. It The undercarriage of the truck was maybe a foot away from the grass that’s how smashed up it wash. Smoke was coming from a couple of places under the truck and B is yelling at me to come back across the road to call the ambulance. I saw a couple of utility trucks coming down the road and yelled at her to flag them down. 
 
  I turned my attention back to the accident and bent down to see if I could see in through the passanger window. Nothing. The hood of the cab was pressed up against the bucket seats inside the cab. I felt my stomach drop as I realized there was absolutely no way somone could survive that kind of crushing. I’ve been in an accident JUST LIKE THAT and barely walked away alive. I took a deep breath and walked around the hood of the truck and B goes fanatic telling me to get away from the truck. She sounded a thousand miles away. When I got to the driver’s side window I see the man inside and I bend down and grab his hand and asks if he can hear me. He nodded his head which was pouring with blood  from his temple and the back of his shirt around the neck was covered…there were gashes on his arms and legs…I heard steam/pressure coming from the truck and the horn was blaring somewhere in the background. I got the gentleman to open his eyes and speak to me. I asked him if he felt any kind of immediate pain..like if anything was puncturing him and he shook his head "No." Then I stroked his hand and told him to just move slowly and don’t make any abrupt gestures. The gentlman starting pulling himself foward through the driver’s side window. When I asked if he could feel his legs  I think that’s when he remembered he even had legs. I stayed down there with him though as he worked his way out of the window. They say when in a situation like this you shouldn’t move the victim or touch them in any way, because if you did something to cause further damage they could sue you or something. I was torn between wanting to help pull this man out and waiting on him to wiggle free of the demolished cab. 
 
   Finally, he breaks free and tries to stand up but he can’t because he’s so disorientated and in shock. I propped him up on one of my shoulders and walk him away from the truck. He kept trying to touch the back of his neck (where there was a huge gash) and I kept telling him not to touch it, that it was best for the EMT to take care of him. I took of my tshirt, as I had a swim suit top on underneath, and pressed it to the gash on his arm though. It was bleeding pretty badly. The EMT and police eventually they got there, we gave our reports and they rushed him off to the hospital. 
 
  Man, the look on his face just brought back a FLOOD of fucking memories from my own accident. To this day I don’t know how (although am eternally greatful)  David and I survived the accident. I remember the shock and the adreneline running through my body and shaking so bad…trying not to cry and be alert and coharent but really just wanting to break down. And no one was there to witness our accident. It was me who broke free of the cab that was at the time upside down 45 feet in a river bed..lodged between the walls…I had to climb out and go find help.. I remember weeks after I would be sitting in a chair…standing at work…laying in bed and I would FEEL the accident happen all over again. I still suffer from it…Years of physical therapy and Chiropractic work..dental work…pain pills…uhg. 
 
   I wouldn’t wish an experience like that on my worst enemy. B yelled at me once we were back in the car for going over to the truck. "It could have blown up Hanna!!! What the hell were you thinking?!!! I was so scared!!"   But I WASN’T thinking. Not about myself. All I knew was there was a person inside that crumpled piece of metal who needed some one. Dying or not dying. Concious or not concious. I wanted whoever was in that truck to know they weren’t alone, and that someone was there to help them the best that they could. 
 
"What if he had been DEAD HANNA? How would you have HANDLED THAT??? He could have been fucking dead and the truck could have exploded and YOU COULD BE FUCKING DEAD!" Of course the truck would not have blown up, but I felt bad for worrying her so much. She was pretty upset and started crying….I was pretty upset. I thought I was going to throw up once we got back into the car. Just from seeing what happened and the results, the anxiety I felt up until that point and the flashbacks of my own traumatic experience. 
 
   I can understand why she didn’t rush right over to the scene. I get that she was scared and in shock and had witnessed the entire thing in her review mirror. (I have too once, and unfortunately that person didn’t live. 🙁 ) But I also can’t understand how it isn’t INSTINCT to just do it. I guess she has more at stake. She has a small son and had the truck exploded or whatever else she’d be taking a bigger risk than myself. That never really crossed my mind though. Maybe had I never had a similar experience I would have been just like B….or maybe not. I don’t know. 
 
  I never got the man’s name. By the time the first officer got there they sat him down in their squad car and told us to wait for the officer who would take our statements. I remember how scared I felt and thankful at the same time during my own accident. I remember replaying the entire thing over and over and over trying to figure out how I survived…how David survived…I know that this man is probably doing the same thing right now as I sit here and write this. His wife and kids must be so distraught with "what if’s" and"thank God’s"…
 
  I remember laying on the stretcher in the hospital room when my mom came rushing in…tears pouring down her face…she was so scared and happy I was alive at the same time. I remember feeling guilty for not making David slow down when I had the bad feeling right before everything went horribly wrong…I felt guilty because my mom would have been absolutely devastated…David’s family would have been just as crushed…
 
  What was supposed to be an innocent and fun summer day for two girls turned into something horrible.  What a nightmare. For him…for me…for B. He’s so lucky to be alive…and I never even got his name. How could I have not at least asked that?