Drowning My Nerves In Cake...

So, I was on my way home from a CAT scan. Sounds like the opening to a bad joke, doesn't it? Unfortunately, it was the beginning of a very scary afternoon.

I was stopped at a red light and was getting ready to call Scott to let him know that I was doing okay after the test. I heard the horrible sound of clashing metal. I instantly knew that there had been an accident. Before I could fully process the situation, I saw an SUV go airborne, flip and land on its roof.

I am fairly certain I was dialing 911 before I was able to exhale. To my shock, I discovered that our 911 system is answered by, you guessed it, voicemail! "Hello. You have reached 911 emergency. If this is a real emergency, please press 1." (No kidding. Ironic after yesterday's blog.)

My mind was spinning as my shaky hands pressed 1. I was reporting the accident as I pulled my car to the side of the road. I knew that the driver must be in trouble because the car was upside down. I was also surprised that none of the other witnesses were coming to offer assistance. After the accident was reported, I threw the phone on my passenger seat and took off running to the scene.

I immediately got down on my stomach to speak to the driver. I was worried about what I was going to see, but I felt compelled to offer aid. Thankfully, she was responsive. She was wearing her seat belt, upside down in the car.

Then, I heard a baby crying. I looked into the back seat, and saw a baby suspended in the car seat. Thank God for car seats because I could have witnessed a child fatality! This is the point that my hands started to quake. What do I do?

I had been on my stomach to examine the scene. Instinctively, I turned onto my back. With my prosthetic leg, I cleared the edge of the smashed window frame to make sure it was clear of any sharp glass. To be honest, I wasn't concerned about my getting cut. I was more worried about hurting the baby.

Back onto my stomach, I reached in and grabbed the baby's clothes. I held on as tight as possible. With my other hand, I managed to unsnap the latches on the car seat, freeing the child. (Another blessing, the car seat was the same style my sister used for her three children, so I was familiar with how it works.)

I quickly pulled the baby through the window and carried her away from the car. By the time I had freed the child, the police and ambulance were arriving. I was able to tell the mother, still trapped, that her child was okay.

The scene smelled of gas, air bag powder and metal. I gave the police officer my information, and I was told I could leave. I drove home as if I were autopilot. It wasn't until I pulled into my driveway that I realized what had transpired.

I relayed the story to Scott and gave Robby a hug. I realized that I needed to take a shower because I had glass in the waistband of my jeans and on my shirt. I am going to have to take the foot shell off my prosthetic because shards of glass are embedded.

I think I am still processing the events of today. I am glad that I was able to help, but I am also disgusted that no other individuals offered assistance. I have been trying to cuddle Robby since I came home but it is a difficult task with a three year old.

Scott has been trying to soothe my frayed nerves. He went to the store for milk and came back with a chocolate cake and a cookie magazine. Tonight, as I eat cake, I will be counting my blessings.