Thank God My Head Didn't Fall Off

Today is the 20th anniversary of the day I broke my neck. Yes, I know, it's obvious I had a head injury. HaHa. Now everybody knows where I get the ideas for all the crazy shit in my head. All kidding aside, I am probably one of the luckiest people on the planet. What are the chances I could live through a head-on collision in a convertible Volkswagen and live to tell about it. Not only live, but suffer no major permanent damage. God was definitely looking out for me on that day.

One of my good friends and I were on our way to the outlet mall in Shreveport, Louisiana, when a drunk driver decided to drive down the middle of the highway. I'm not sure about a lot of the details of that day, but I remember the "drunk car" perfectly. It was a white Ford LTD with a burgundy landeau top being loosely steered by one tore-up redneck. As I tried to dodge this monster car coming at me, I ended up being run off the road and spinning out of control across the on-coming traffic and flipping ass over head to land in a ditch beside the railroad tracks. I know the car flipped three times, because I had three separate fractures in my neck. If I close my eyes and get real quiet, I can still see and smell the grass on the side of the road as it came toward me. Lucky for me, the parish EMT's were having disaster training four miles down the road and they were to the wreck in an instant. I was also lucky it was lunch time for the workers of Caspiano Plantation, because they saw the entire thing and came running.

When the three men from Caspiano Plantation got to me all I could think about was the fact that the car was still running. I just knew that any second the car would burst into flames and I would have a lot of explaining to do to God. I knew the car was going to explode, because they always do on television and in the movies. Once again, lucky for me that's usually not the case in a car wreck. After the plantation workers cut my hair (it was wrapped around the roll-bar) they dragged me to a nice grassy area and tried to ease my worries by telling me I didn't look too bad except for the huge swelling area on the back of my head and neck. It seems that's a sure sign of a broken neck - that and the fact that I couldn't move my head.

When the EMT's got to the scene their first thought was to put me in a helicopter and fly me to the nearest hospital. There was only one thing wrong with that plan - I'm terrified of flying and I refused to ride in the copter. I know, it seems that my fear of flying would have been outweighed by my fear of permanent head, neck, and back injury, but no - I was still scared to death of flying. I opted for the nice safe ambulance and a ride to the local Catholic hospital. I kind of knew there was something bad wrong with me and I wanted to be as close to God as I could get. I figured that nuns would be a good place to start. Once again, lucky for me the Catholic hospital was Shumpert Medical Center and they specialized in head and neck injuries.

After a frightful stay in the emergency room where I came to the incorrect conclusion I was paralyzed (I was touching the sand-bags on my neck thinking they were my shoulders and was freaking out because I couldn't feel it) I was fitted with neck braces, screws, rods, and other assorted metal headgear, shot full of morphine and demorayl and sent to a room. Man, who ever discovered morphine and demorayl deserves one of the best seats in Heaven. These are some wonderful drugs. After about ten minutes, I didn't have a pain in my body or a care in the world.

When the neuro-surgeon came to see me the next day he showed me my x-rays and explained I had three compound bursting fractures of the spinal column. I had fractured C-1, C-2, and C-3 vertebrae and was his first patient to live through that type of injury. Not only was I alive, I had no neurological damage and was able to walk after three days. The nursing staff, doctors, and nuns of Shumpert called me the miracle girl and explained just how lucky I had been. It seems that the higher up on the spinal column you break, the more things to go wrong. I should have been dead or at the very least paralyzed, but instead I was going to be okay. I stayed in the hospital for only three weeks and except for the occasional crick in my neck from a bad mattress or a change in the barometric pressure, I'm doing fine. I guess it's true, God looks out for fools, drunks, and babies. Just call me God's little lucky fool.

The World of Reality Shows

Well, it has happened again. I am stuck watching a stupid reality show. I swore I would never watch another one of these damned shows after I devoted way too much of my time to the latest season of American Idol. My neighbor and best friend, Debby, managed to talk me into watching Idol and it took control of my tv viewing life, not to mention the effect it had on my real life. I found myself planning my activities around a television show on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. Some of the teachers I work with decided to take dance lessons on Wednesday nights and wanted me to go with them. It sounded like a great idea, until it dawned on me that's the night the Idol results are aired. I even went so far as to take notes on the singers performances and compare them with other twisted little Idol viewers. To top off my Idol sickness, I was devastated when Chris was voted off the show three weeks before the finale. I just knew he was going to win. He was my version of the perfect idol - a bald - headed hard rocker. I even found myself sad when poor little deaf elf-looking Elliot said goodbye the week before the finale. When the season ended, I swore off reality shows. Well, that plan has been shot in the head with my discovery of So You Think You Can Dance.

My newest obsession, So You Think You Can Dance is the brainchild of the evil genius who invented American Idol. These guys are raking in money hand over fist with this latest show. Now they have an addictive show going year-round. I don't think Dance is as popular as Idol, because so far I haven't had trouble voting. I've been able to get through on the phone each time I've called to vote, unlike my luck with Idol. To top off this new habit I have, I'm starting to get attached to the little dancing people, and the majority of them look like little bitty people. I just love the little ballet dancing elf, Justin and Yuri from the Ukraine or Croatia or where ever the hell he's from is too cute to watch. I can only hope that the two of them do well in the show, so I can continue to feed my habit. On the off chance they are both eliminated soon, I can always get my reality show fix with Rock Star which to me is American Idol on crack.

Whatever happened to the good old days of television viewing? I used to be quite happy watching police dramas, Jerry Springer, and wrestling. At least then I knew all the people were actors and all the action was fake.