The Accident...

It happens in an instant and things are never the same. You never really know what is different, but something is. Others notice it but you never do. My boss, my friends, my coworkers all knew there was something wrong but nobody said anything. You struggle to be "normal" yet you war against yourself.

It was October 5, 1999. I was driving south bound on Ambler in Abilene, TX and had just passed the Pizza Hut and was heading toward Westlake Road/FM 600. The next thing I know I was waking up from losing a battle with the truck ceiling and an airbag. We were both taken to the hospital; I was in much better shape than her. She had missed the stop sign on Westlake Road and when she realized it she locked up her brakes. I hit her broadside on the driver's door. I was in a 1997 Ford F150 4x4. She appeared to be seizuring out.

At the hospital we were in adjoining trauma rooms and they didn't close the door. I laid on the table with the most uncomfortable neck brace on and listened to the repeated codes as they worked on her. I was all alone and in tears; they finally closed the doors. It doesn't matter whether it is your fault or not when you kill someone. As people showed up and try to convince me of this it only made matters worse. My friend Bert came and just simply held my hand and let me cry; there really nothing to say, I just wanted someone to be there with me, someone to make the pain and the horror go away.

For three to four months after the accident I couldn't sleep. Every night brought nightmares and every morning as I awoke I could smell the odor of a deployed airbag: I woke up believing that I was still in my truck. I was taking sleeping pills which provided sleep but left me in a haze for most of the day.

My face was badly damaged. When people would see it they knew that I lost the fight. When Dr. Osburn (I was talking Gospels seminar at the time) saw my face he was taken aback. Along with my face, most of the cartilage in my right knee was destroy and my medial meniscus torn in two when the dash was pushed back into my right leg. I have had one knee surgery to deal with some of the pain but will eventually required knee replacement.

From October until February, doctors and rehab specialist were trying to convince me that there was nothing wrong with my knee. I found an orthopaedic surgeon who said otherwise. I had surgery March 23, 2000 to remove the meniscus and clean up the cartilage debris. During this time I was also arguing with her insurance company (which by the way was also mine.) They refused to pay any of my medical bills so I retained an attorney. Once the doctor receive a letter from the attorney, he dropped me like a hot potato, accusing me of faking pain for the money. He wrote a nasty letter to my attorney basically saying that once the trial was over my knee would get better. Again, the stress continued to grow.

Over the summer of 2000, I began to take pain medication for my knee. I liked the medication way too much and used it as a mood enhancer; i was addicted. The rest of 2000 and the most 2001 are a blur. I was struggling to deal with the death of a woman, the addiction to pain medication and continued pain in my knee that keep me from exercising. In July of 2001 I became sick and really couldn't kick it. At the end of November I went to my doctor and he ran blood test. On December 7, 2001, one day before my 37th birthday, I was diagnosed as type-2 non-insulin dependent diabetes mellitus (NIDDM). Another blow to self.