3 things you say while upside down in your car

1. Oh fuck.
2. Nope, I don't feel hurt! Am I bleeding? Do you see me bleeding anywhere? (I'm concerned that I'm in shock and will look down to see my arm or leg in pieces, some crazy complex fracture that I can't feel.)
3. Ohmigod I do not have health insurance. Don't take me to the hospital, I don't need to go!

Car with Angel Wings

So you might've heard that I've been going through a rough patch for, um, like two years, and I'm hoping that it finally culminated when I literally hit a rough patch on the 8 freeway. It was Thursday before Christmas and I was headed to Phoenix. It was a high wind warning zone, I was feeling lightheaded and woozy, and I wasn't paying enough attention to the road. Take your pick of excuses. I drifted left into a patch of gravel--there was no shoulder--and immediately did everything you're not supposed to do. What you should do in a gravel skid is go against all your instincts: turn WITH the skid, slow down gradually with the emerg brake, and steer back onto the road once you've regained control. So naturally I yanked the wheel, overcorrected, and spun out to the left. For a second I faced oncoming cars and that was the scariest, because everyone was doing at least 75 and I am still horrified to imagine what tragedies could've ensued if they hit me and other people hit them, and maybe people way back added to the mess...serious injuries, deaths. My fault. I'd dwell on that the rest of my life.

But the hand was dealt perfectly. Once I spun out, I rolled out of the way of traffic into a bushy flat area. As it happened, the ground had been softened by recent rain and therefore wasn't hard enough to cause my untimely demise. I had just passed east through the rocky cliffs, boulders, cacti and other dangers of Alpine, so it was pretty much the only safe place to go off the road.

Though I closed my eyes, I was conscious of every roll--5 times. The car was full of warmth and light. I was calm and peaceful. There was nothing I could do but go along for the ride, like on roller coasters I've been frequenting since I was barely tall enough. With each roll, I checked myself out and didn't feel pain, didn't hit any trees or get impaled, far as I could tell. I glided to a peaceful stop, upside down hanging from my seatbelt, which made my neck, back, and shoulders sore for a few days.

Immediately, EMTs were at my window which I found confusing. By "coincidence," if you still believe in that, a carful of off-duty paramedics was behind me. They pulled me out the window, 'cause the car was smoking and they weren't sure if it would explode. (How awesome is this movie I've created for myself to live?) They had a neck brace in their car which they insisted I use but I didn't need.

Amazingly, we discovered that while glass broke all around me and I had superheavy stuff in the car--a totally unsecured and unsafe tow load as Shawn might say--nothing hit or cut me. There was a hundred pound suitcase in my seat, plus a Cutco knife, metal water bottle, rolled change and numerous other hazards. My glasses fell off my head, everything flew out of the console, my GPS aka Gypsy was flung around, and my Blackberry was found away in the grass. All of these still worked and the only thing scratched was the Gypsy and a couple CDs. All the xmas presents were salvaged except one gift card. An unbroken glass bottle was found wedged in the sunroof along with an unscratched sound transformation CD (thanks John Hill!). And though I'm still picking glass and dirt out of everything I own, there was not a single scratch or bruise on my body.

So I refused to go to the hospital (remember, strep throat cost me over $17,000 earlier this year). By that time the cop, tow truck driver, and other EMTs were telling stories about me and taking pictures. While the truck driver was flipping my car over, the cop told me about a WWII pilot who bailed without a chute, fell 2 miles, and landed in something soft enough to survive. "I'm telling you this because that's you," he said. "You're the pilot who fell out of the sky and lived." Later when the tow truck driver gave me a ride, he said, "Wow, he's sure in a good mood. That cop is always so cranky--you made his day!" Before he put the truck in gear, he said, "Seatbelt," and I said, "Yes!" And we both laughed as I put it on.

So it was a Christmas miracle. Of course, my mom pointed out the crash might not've happened had I taken care of myself as well as I take care of that car. That awesome Mazda6 type S sport hatchback had four new tires, new brakes, and all its maintenance, but a driver who hadn't been sleeping, eating, or caring about life. Sorry, car. And sorry, friends, for giving you a scare and having to hitch rides. Please do pay attention to the road. It's easy to get bored, tired, restless, and distracted, and those are the things that get you killed. Unless your car has angel wings. Love to you all.