Brush with death-three
This story is appropriately told
from the point of view of Rajan, my son, who was 15 at the time.
Anticipating his license, but not yet able to
drive, Raj bought a ’67 Mustang and was busy turning it into the car of his
dreams. (His dreams would later turn to a 2001 Acura. But, at the time this was his dream car). He
had paid for a paint job, changing the puce green to a deep blue. At 2500
dollars it was a great investment he assured me, as it came with lots of
extras. There were two sets of little M U S T A N G letters in chrome along with two boxes of
really good ‘parts’. And, it ran well.
But, he couldn’t drive it yet.
So, we found ourselves jumping into
the car for a late lunch. I knew it was
late because I was getting shaky and my stomach was growling. “We may have waited too long for lunch”, I
said. And that was the last thing I
remember about that drive.
As a recently diagnosed diabetic I was adjusting to new
medications. The insulin was a recent
addition to my regimen and I thought I understood how it worked. But I had more
to learn.
This is how it happened for Raj.
He got in and I mentioned being
hungry. But, mostly he noticed I was mad! And swearing, and not making much
sense. And driving poorly! Within one block he knew there was something very
wrong. And, he was in a car that was going to crash taking out any number of
parked cars. “Mom, pull over. Stop
driving! Or let me out!” And I did pull over another block down after much
arguing. Raj stepped out and started to slam the door but decided to try to
help his crazy mother some how and sat back in. It was a very frightening
decision.
I drove to the end of our quiet
sub-division and started out onto Pruneridge Avenue .
Pruneridge Avenue is a busy
thoroughfare. On one end, ten blocks away, is the mall in Santa
Clara . Seven
miles at the other end is a hotel
complex in the next side-by-side town of Cupertino . In between are major roadways taking Silicon
Valley workers to their high-tech jobs, North and South in the
Valley. Although most drivers on these roads are in a hurry, my impaired self
was not. I was doing 10 to 15 miles per
hour and driving without seeing stop signs or traffic lights. Raj was yelling,
banging on the sides of the car, panicked and with no idea of how to stop me as
we went through the red warnings. Drivers swerved, stopped, stared, cursed and
honked as I plowed through Lawrence Expressway, and De
Anza Boulevard , oblivious but quiet now. Sweating,
tremoring and unconscious, I was nearing the end of this ride.
Of course, later, Raj thought of
some ways he might have helped; turning off the engine, getting the keys,
physically fighting me. But, instead he did what he could after I passed out
falling forward on the wheel. He managed
to turn the wheel toward the curb next to a bank where he hoped to go for help.
Taking the keys he ran to the bank. It was Saturday! Closed! The nearest building
was a block away. A hotel! It would be
open surely. And, it was. The desk clerk
got 911 quickly. The emergency operator took the info and asked if his mom was
still breathing. In shock, Raj put the
phone down and ran back to the car to see. At that point he was sure I was
dying as a seizure was working through my body and sweat was pouring off my
skin. In the distance he could hear the fire engines and an ambulance. But he
thought it might be too late.
I awoke in the ambulance after
being administered a special glucose injection used for diabetic coma. I actually had cogent brain function right
away, remembering my last words about eating.
I also remembered I had been driving and asked if I had hurt anyone.
And, where was my son? No, I had not
hurt anyone and my heroic son was enjoying his first ride in an ambulance up in
the front seat!
The rectangles of lights on the
ceiling sped by in the hallway as I was wheeled into the ER. Recovery begun on
the way to the hospital continued with an IV glucose solution and
re-hydration. Within minutes, I felt like
myself and listened to this story as my son told it to me. I was lucky to have
had him with me. He saved my life.
This one...
ReplyDeletejust wow