And So It Goes...: A Very Abrupt End To My Holiday

"Make this last one a good one, Fabi!"

I feel the quad pick up speed. Then the splash of the puddle as it arches up and over my 11-year old nephew and me.

Then...nothing.

Airborne for what seems like a long time.

My cheek and forehead slam into something gritty.

Dirt and sand are filling every opening in my head.

Ears.

Nose.

Mouth.

The scraping sound of skin along dirt seems to go on forever.

Fabi.

Fabi!

Fabi?

Schmetterling.

What the fuck? Why am I thinking about about the German word for butterfly?

"Aunty Jyl! Aunty Jyl? I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!"

I see a pair of sandal-less feet standing next to my head.

Why can't I move?

WHY CAN'T I MOVE?

"I'm going to get help, Aunty Jyl!"

"Fabi! Wait! Can you move the quad? Do you think you can push it off me?"

With two rocking motions back and forth, Fabi is able to roll the quad onto its side and off of me. The left side of my face is deeply embedded into the sand of the Canadian Shield.

"Fabi...I don't know if my leg is broken. Can you go call for help?"

We are near the main road and I hear Fabi's bare feet pad off as fast as they can carry him. I hear him calling for help with his thick, German accent filled with terror. What seems like forever, I see his feet beside my head again.

"There's no one at that cabin! I'm so sorry, Aunty Jyl! It's my fault!"

"Fabian, it's no one's fault. It was an accident. But I need you to get help. Can you start heading back to the cabin? If you see a car or a quad or anyone, call to them for help and bring them back here, okay? I am okay, I promise. I just need some help standing up".

For a second time, I hear his feet pad through the sand. I slowly try to lift my head.

No pain. I stay laying on my stomach, exactly as I landed, but I turn my head from side to side.

Neck isn't broken. Good sign.

Wiggle fingers.

All ten move.

Wiggle toes.

Can only feel five move.

Shit.

I lift my head in time to see a white truck driving down the main road. They can't see me, but Fabi hears it and runs towards it, waving his arms, crying for them to stop. By the time the truck reaches, my side, I have managed to roll myself over and gingerly sit up. I spit a mouthful of dirt out.

Grit embedded between my teeth.

My leg.

Wow.

Bleeding.

Bruised.

And very swollen.

Two people get out of the truck. I ask the woman if she can drive Fabi back to our cabin to get help. The man stays with me.

May as well have a smoke.

Wow...my cigarettes aren't even squished.

Able to chat with the man.

Another good sign. I'm not in shock.

I see my brother's truck pull up.

Brady hops out, grabs his first aid kit and begins assessing me.

There's suddenly a flurry of vehicles and people...my sister (a pre-med student) who is taking my pulse, my two nephews, my dad, our neighbour and the two people in the truck. Me being me, I'm able to crack jokes, even though I'm covered in dirt and blood and fairly pale. My brother and sister do an amazing job of getting me cleaned up and standing. Although my leg isn't broken, I'm pretty sure my wrist or hand is so the decision is made to head back to PA.

I'm loaded into the back seat of my brother's truck. I feel bad for the amount of sand and dirt I'm bringing in. We get back to the cabin to grab some of my luggage.

I need to pee.

With the help of my dad and brother, we manage to get into the cabin.

I'm worried about Miss K seeing me, so my Grandma gets her out of the cabin.

We decide to clean up my feet and legs. One thing leads to another and I end up showering, with the help of my sister.

There is tree bark and dirt stuck to my chest as I pull off my tank top and bra.

Wow.

Once I'm showered up, my dad starts the two hour drive back to PA. I suddenly remember a similar incident, 22 years ago when I split my lip open while tubing. Dad had to drive me back to PA where I ended up with four stitches in my lip. We spent the night at home and then went for breakfast the next morning. Dad bought me the newest Sweet Valley Twins book. I wonder if he will buy me a book in the morning.

Mike meets us at the hospital and takes over my care. Over and over again, we say we can't believe just how lucky Fabi and I are to be alive.

I think of all the short newspaper articles I've read about people being killed in quadding accidents and rarely given them a second read.

I could have been killed.

The quad landed on top of me.

The box seat on the back of the quad is what protected my head and neck from being crushed.

I could have been killed.

Long wait at the hospital.

Assessments done and x-rays taken.

Nothing broken. Just sprained, bruised and very swollen.

Pain is setting in to my tailbone and clavicle.

More Advil, please.

*****

This morning (Sunday), as I sit here typing, I realize just how damn lucky both Fabi and I are. As we headed through the puddle, we must have hit a rock and the quad flipped, end over end coming to rest on top of me. My leg was pinned under the handle bars, my head protected by the box seat I had been sitting in, moments earlier. Fabian flew off to the side and walked away with a few scrapes and bruises, but very shaken up. I am beyond impressed with Fabi's level headed thinking in a moment of sheer panic. When he had returned to the cabin for help, one of his thoughts was to say it quietly, so as not to scare my daughter.

My tailbone is beyond sore. I spent the short night, sleeping in our recliner. My hand/pinky finger is not broken, but is difficult to use/bend. As I undressed for bed, Mike discovered large bruises all over my back and legs.

Although I'm in a lot of pain, I am BEYOND grateful to God that I am alive to sit here and type this. If you'll excuse me, I do need a little more Advil though. And to pick more sand out of my ear.

Top Left: took the initial impact on the left side of my face.
Top right: the back of my right leg.
Bottom Left:back/side of right leg. Pretty sure those are handle bar marks.
Bottom middle: Left elbow.
Bottom right: Leg bruises...not sure from what part of the quad.