Before I tell you what DIY Guy bought me for Christmas, I think you should have some background information.
In December, 1983 I was slightly behind schedule for my morning drive to work in Binghamton, NY. Slightly behind schedule means I didn’t take time to buckle my seatbelt. In the early 80’s seatbelt use was just gaining momentum…so we weren’t in the “buckle up” without thinking about it mode yet. I was 24 years old. I was driving our quite sporty, two-year old Volkswagon Scirroco with a five-speed manual transmission.
About a mile from our home, going approximately 35 mph, an older woman decided to make a left turn in front of me just as I hit the intersection. There was no time to stop. I did know I was going to hit her — but I had no idea the damage that was to incur. I remember realizing there would be impact — but the next thing I knew I was laying on the pavement in December with a light drizzle falling on me. I couldn’t see anything. I thought I was blind. I couldn’t move. I thought I could be dying. I remember a voice saying, “the Lord your God is with you” — as if someone standing near to me said it in a quiet voice. Because my eyes were swollen shut, I couldn’t see. I could taste blood. I could feel pain.
Coming in and out of consciousness, I heard voices talking saying things like: “We’ll have to cut her coat off to move her” (To which I responded: “no, my husband just bought it for me” — an early Christmas present). I could hear them saying “don’t cut the coat”….and trying to figure out ways to move me….then I drifted off again. When I came to again, I was in an ambulance. I remember crying and asking for Kirk. I managed to tell them he worked at IBM (along with thousands of other employees in Endicott).
When I got to the hospital, I was still asking for Kirk. Finally I heard someone tell the doctor who was picking glass out of my forehead, that Kirk had arrived…and asked, “should we bring him in”. The ER doctor said, “No, let’s clean her up a little first”. Ok, that kinda freaked me out a little. Before too long, Kirk was by my side, and now I could see a little better — must be the “cleaning up” helped.
More glass picking from my face went on as we waited for the plastic surgeon to arrive. It was comforting to have Kirk at my side as the plastic surgeon stitched my eyebrows, eyelids and other areas on my face. When the surgeon finished, he assurred us he did a good job and that there wouldn’t be much scarring. “However”, he said, “you probably won’t have eyebrows or eyelashes grow back. They have been scraped off below the roots.” Just what a 24 year old woman wants to hear. I wasn’t even aware that they’d been scraped off.
Turns out, they were. When my face hit the windshield it cracked the glass, which broke into slivers (instead of the pellets it should have). Then, my face slid down the shattered windshield, shaving off my eyebrows and eyelashes. More on my left eye than right.
I was released from the hospital ER later that afternoon with cuts, bruises, a concussion, my head wrapped in bandages, and every bone in my body hurting. Especially my head, back and neck.
Here’s our little car after the accident . . .
As Danae would say, “don’t judge me”. But I know you won’t. I was going to keep this my little secret and not tell anyone. Then I realized that maybe, just maybe someone else could benefit from knowing about this option. And, well, you know how I like to take the “authentic” route whenever I can.
I promise, you would never know this is permanent unless I told you.