I had no idea what was going on. I was hot and felt something dripping down the side of my face. Pain was running through my ribs, and I was thinking, “What’s going on? Where am I?” I could hear people talking and feel someone clean up my face. The next thing I knew, I was being rushed into the hospital.

It was a warm summer day, and I had just finished being sick with the stomach flu. My sister and I decided there was nothing else to do, so we would go see a movie at the St. Croix Theater. We went to Amery, picked up Steven (my sister’s boyfriend), and started driving to St. Croix. My sister was driving, Steven was in the passenger seat, and I was in the back middle seat of the car. We were driving pass Riffs and Rails, and after that I don’t remember anything until the hospital.

Apparently we were at the intersection and going left. My sister didn’t see a car coming from the left because another car was blocking her view. Thinking that it was clear, she took off and was side swiped by the oncoming car. The car smashed the back door of our car, and we ended up in the ditch.

My sister and Steven didn’t get hurt; all they had were a couple bruises from the seat belt. My sister said she looked back at me, and I was just sitting there stunned with blood dripping down my face and glass lodged in the side of my head. She said she then called 911, and soon other people stopped to help out. Apparently some lady was telling me to stay still by now because I snapped out of my daze and was trying to scramble out of the car.

The ambulances showed up, and the paramedics put me in the back. This is where I started to recall some things. I can remember thinking, “Ah man, I think something bad just happened.” I also asked them if I was going to die. I feel a little dumb about asking that now that I think about it. Then after that, I remember almost nothing until I arrived at the hospital.

In the hospital, I saw my mom and dad looking at me. The doctors carted me around to different places, and it seemed like they did it a lot because every little bump caused an awful pain in my ribs. After a while of being carted around, I learned that I had three broken ribs. Also, because I couldn’t move, they had to give me a catheter. Having a catheter put in was the worst feeling ever. After that whole experience was over, I learned that I had to be air-lifted to Regions Hospital in Minnesota.

The helicopter ride was the coolest part about this whole experience. Although I can’t recall much, the feeling of taking off, the sounds of the helicopter blades, and the rush of the cool breeze was awesome. The whole ride didn’t seem to take that long. After the short amount of time, we landed at Regions Hospital.

As soon as I was taken off the helicopter, I went right back to being carted around and having every little bump hurt. It was late at night, and I was really thirsty. People asked me if I needed anything. I always said a drink, but they would never bring me anything because I guess I wasn’t supposed to drink fluids. After a while of lying down, my mom and dad came in and talked to me. My mom remembered to bring my contact case so I could take my contacts out. Then I went to sleep after a long day.

I woke up in a rather large room for patients and their families. The room was rather dark and had only one light on. I couldn’t move, and I was aching all over. I looked down and saw that I had an IV in my wrist. I looked to the left and saw my mom and dad talking to my grandparents. They noticed I was awake and told me I look awful. The rest of the day, I just slept and was woken up by doctors every few hours to check if I could wiggle my toes and what not.

The next day I woke up and found out that Minnesota Vikings cheerleaders were walking around the hospital and taking pictures with patients. Two cheerleaders kneeled down next to me and took a picture. They also gave me a signed picture with all of the cheerleaders on the squad. I did feel a little bad for them because I hadn’t showered in days, and I probably reeked of a horrific mixture of blood and body odor. After they left, I slept again. A doctor came in after a few hours of sleeping to give my mom and me some details. He noticed that it hurt for me to breathe, so they performed surgery on me, just in case, for internal bleeding the next day.

I was carted out of my room and into the elevator. Still, every bump hurt and going over the elevator bumps felt like going over an old cracked blacktop road. After going up a few floors, we made it to the surgery room. I just talked to my surgeon about after surgery and that’s it. The next thing I knew I was back to sleeping in my old room. The surgery went well, and I now have a big scar by my belly button. Instead of stitches, I had thick glue over the incision. For the pain, the doctors gave me a button that I could push once an hour that injected me with morphine. After surgery, the next few days I went through physical rehabilitation.

Standing up for the first time was beyond painful. I couldn’t keep myself up, and I was holding onto anything possible to help keep me up. I probably stood up for about 2 seconds before stumbling back onto the hospital bed. After getting situated, I got comfortable, pushed my morphine button, and passed out. Over the next few days, the doctors kept making me stand up, and I could keep myself up longer each time. By this time I was put in a new, but yet smaller room.

This smaller room was my last room that I stayed at. I remained in it for a few days. While in this room, I went through more physical rehabilitation, and I was finally able to order meals that I wanted. I remember walking down to the physical rehab room and tossing a ball back and forth with my dad, and it felt like tossing around a 30 pound medicine ball. After a few days of eating unpleasant hospital food, being woken up by doctors, and walking around the hospital I could finally go home.

Being at home was a big relief. I was finally done with the hospital and the doctors checking on me every five hours. For the rest of the summer I mainly just lay in bed and healed. The doctors said I couldn’t do any real physical activities until November, so I wasn’t able to join football.

Looking back on the accident, I realized that I could of easily died if I sat in the back left seat instead of the middle. As a kid I always sat in the back left seat, and I’m surprised I didn’t that day. I would say that I’m rather lucky to be alive today.