How a Distracted Driver Changed My Life Forever

By Anne Voelckers Palumbo

 

It’s been a little over two years now since a distracted driver hit me while I was walking. The violent impact, which occurred in a crosswalk, left me with life-altering injuries.

When I set out on that beautiful, peaceful morning in Upstate New York, I wasn’t thinking about getting struck by a two-ton car. Far from it.

The only thoughts drifting through my head were simple ones: what to make for dinner, when to call my kids, what food to feature in my next nutrition column…

But then: silence.

I don’t know how long I was out, but when I finally regained consciousness, I was profoundly confused. Why was I on my back? Who was pressing something against my head? Why did my neck area feel so wet? And what were all those blaring sounds?

Just writing those words still makes me shudder.

I have no memory of the actual impact. One minute I was in a crosswalk and the next minute I was being raced to the ER, floating in and out of consciousness. I hope I never remember.

Every day I still think about how close I came to being unknowingly extinguished. Every day I still jump at any sound, especially car sounds. And most days, I still wonder what the “void of me” would have done to my two children, husband, family and friends.

The crosswalk where I was hit is well-lit during the morning hours when I typically walked. Which is why I can only assume the driver was distracted.

Since my accident, I’ve been obsessed with articles about distracted driving and accidents. Extensive research has shown that distracted driving can increase the risk of a crash by up to eight times. That statistic surprised me.

What didn’t surprise me is the top distraction: texting. To give you some perspective: Sending or reading a text takes your eyes off the road for five or more seconds. At 55 mph, that’s like driving the length of an entire football field while blindfolded, says the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration.

I find it both curious and infuriating that people think they can multitask while driving a vehicle that can seriously injure or kill. Where’s that bravado coming from anyway? Better-than-average reflexes? A brain that defies logic? Longstanding good luck? Youth?

Who knows, but here’s what I do know: You can’t safely do two things at once when you’re driving. You simply can’t. Research proves it. So do all the dead and injured.

Next time you’re behind the wheel, ask yourself: Is reading or sending a text at any speed really worth the risk?

Does reaching for French fries a seat over warrant endangering lives?

Can fixing your hair wait or should you tempt fate?

Does doing anything that takes your eyes off the road for even a second ever justify the dire consequences?

You may no longer think so when you are responsible for disabling that unsuspecting bystander or killing those innocent kids in that car you hit head on. And all who know you may not either, including your fellow inmates if you land there.

My injuries were horrific: physically, mentally, emotionally. I will never, ever be the same person I once was. And, sadly, I don’t have a whole lot of time left to reclaim the parts I dearly miss.

So, what’s my life like now? (And is it a life ever considered by the driver who so dramatically changed it?)

 

Chronic pain darkens my days

My back, slammed in the accident, continues to ache, as do many of my other injuries, from a broken ankle to hammered teeth to multiple facial fractures to cracked ribs. The many and various steps I’ve taken to alleviate the pain, however, have not been entirely successful.

All the activities that once enriched my life — cooking, sewing, gardening, walking, biking — no longer provide the quality of happiness they once did because of unrelenting pain.

 

My brain doesn’t work the same

I suffered a severe head injury. The fallout has been disheartening. Soon after my accident, I couldn’t remember how to spell “salad.” So, I spelled it out phonetically: “salid.” Bravo, I cheered inside, I didn’t lose my ability to spell, a skill honed from decades of ravenous reading. Twelve hours later, the true spelling finally limped its way to the surface.

Despite the passage of time since my accident, I still can’t spell many words that once materialized with ease. Same goes for writing and writing is what I do. These days, because stored knowledge, references and segues often elude me, it takes me ages to write anything. Post-It notes litter my desk. Mining my brain for a word I should know exhausts and frustrates me.

The sadness of those setbacks is a true gut punch, as writing and spelling have always given me confidence and filled me with pride.

 

My hearing diminished

I never knew a severe concussion could cause hearing loss, but it can and it did. While the loss isn’t typically permanent, mine seems to be enduring. Also, the chronic tinnitus I now have from the head injury worsens the impairment. Like so many in later years, I had lost some hearing, but not enough to need hearing aids. But now, my occasional “whats” have become hourly.

Unlike other crash-related conditions, this one may be more easily remedied. But I’ve yet to embrace the remedy, holding out hope that my tinnitus will lessen and more hearing will return.

 

My sense of humor struggles to fully recover

While this loss might seem trivial to some, it’s not to me. Humor has always been the oxygen of my life. Since the accident, though, it’s gone dormant. Oh, sure, I may have occasional bursts of spontaneous humor, but it doesn’t happen often.

And, for me, that is a profound loss.

For years, I used to write a weekly humor column for an Upstate newspaper; these days, I can’t even fathom the effort. Discovering humor, sharing humor and laughing with abandon once defined me.

I miss that coveted personality trait and will celebrate its return.

 

Fear, unlucky feelings and death stalk me

I won’t pretend that fear and feeling unlucky haven’t dogged me on many occasions throughout my life. But feeling occasionally dogged seems benign compared to what now plagues me daily.

During today’s village walks, I worry I’ll get hit again; if I’m in the woods, I’m on the lookout for predatory creatures ready to pounce. And that lightning I hear in the distance? It will choose me and only me to incinerate.

Hard as I try, I still can’t shake my daily preoccupation with death and how quickly, unexpectedly a life can be altered or cut short.

 

Outdoor pursuits are less pursued

All my life, I’ve been active. And with age, I’ve remained active, looking forward each day to a walk, bike, kayak or hike. Being in nature has always filled me with indescribable joy. But I spend less active time in nature now because of my physical limitations and chronic pain. Of course, I still enjoy the outdoors, but not like I once did.

Despite all that’s happening in our troubled world, news stories about pedestrian deaths and injuries caused by vehicles grip me first. Oh, no, I cry to no one: it’s happened again! And she was only 40! And he was about to start college! And she was newly married! And he had just retired!

Reading about accidents like my own brings on a sadness that’s hard to describe. Even though I don’t know the victims I’m reading about, I get teary thinking about the children wondering where mommy went or the husband standing bereft in the kitchen or the parents doubled over in crushing agony.

These days, I no longer trust anyone behind the wheel. To me, we’ve become a lawless bunch, rushing through yellow lights, blowing through reds, passing on the right, speeding, tailgating and racing diagonally across parking lots. Crosswalks, street signs, road lines and traffic lights are too-often ignored.

Although today’s driver’s education teaches students how to be good drivers, I wonder if it’s even making a difference. Disregarding rules of the road and cellphone use while driving seem to be the norm now.

“I’m on my way!” you furiously text to your friends as you speed through a stop sign. “Don’t start beer pong without me!”

For all the imaginable reasons, I feel fury whenever I see someone texting or distracted while driving. When that someone turns out to be an adult with kids on board, my fury boils over. Kids are counting us on to protect them, not render them paralyzed from the neck down. They’re counting on us to set good examples, not pave the way for potential tragedy.

Recently, I witnessed a pregnant woman nearly get hit in a crosswalk. My heart sank when I saw the stunned look on her face. She and her unborn baby came frighteningly close to catastrophic injury or death and I have no doubt she thought about that moment for weeks. I know I did because her horrified face must have resembled my own.

And so, fellow drivers, I urge you to stop doing anything — anything — that compromises your focus and concentration while driving. You owe it to your passengers; you owe it to all the innocents out there who don’t deserve to die or be seriously injured; you owe it to yourself.