Flipping out

The last two days contained 2 of the more surreal experiences of my life:

Thursday, a woman came to the clinic and delivered a baby approximately 14 minutes after her arrival. I stood outside the door of the exam room, gloved at the "cracked open" emergency cart trying to mentally preen my infant CPR skills just in case the midwife and 2 pediatricians were wrong about the baby's status. 7 1/2 lb baby girl came flipping-out into the world in the most natural way, without any complications and without any monitoring or medical intervention. My directive came from the nurse midwife, "Don't you dare call 9-1-1 until this baby is born." And then it was my task to keep the EMTs at bay until they had delivered the placenta as well. It went against all my modern, western training as a nurse and administrator to let this process happen without releasing a pack of emergency-medical-hounds who might have added turmoil and a false sense of security to an otherwise serene event.

Then yesterday, as I was driving down the highway (In the passing lane) I noticed a car in the distance appearing to bounce toward me in the median. As I got closer, I realized it wasn't bouncing as much as flipping or rolling (6-10 times) side over side and when the blue sedan ended up breech, wheels spinning in the air, I slowed down to a stop- deep on the shoulder of the road. Looking to the car, maybe 25 yards back, it had lost all it's windows and had broken into thousands of 8-10 inch chunks of plastic and metal: Possessions and wreckage scattered for what seemed like the length of a football field. I didn't see anyone in the car and didn't know if I should get out until I stopped looking behind me and I glanced casually to the left. There was the driver. He was lying peacefully on his back- as if sunbathing on the ice- with one shoe on, no coat, in a t-shirt and jeans.

Gulp.

I didn't see blood, but I was sure this guy was dead. By then the motion and noises of the commuting world which had seemed muted in slow-mo, picked up back into real-time mode. Several people from the north and south bound lanes had also stopped. Two were already on cell phones, I got out and approached the driver, hesitantly. Someone shouted to keep him warm and these random dudes produced sleeping bags and heavy blankets from their vehicles. I identified myself as a nurse and got close enough to find the driver talking- groggy, but aware of who and where he was, muttering that his car was really "messed up." I was kneeling at his head, two lanes of traffic zipping past on either side of us, staring clearly at the gas-scented nightmare that was now his car and almost laughed out loud when one of the other bystanders told him, "Don't worry about your car, your car is fine, man." Your car is fine, Man... You can bring it home tonight (well most of it) in a hefty bag.

The good Samaritan who I'll call MacGyver (one of those that had located an army surplus supply store in his trunk to keep the driver guy warm) said, "don't worry, I'll find it" when the injured man started mumbling about his backpack and cell phone. And then MacGyver proceeded to crawl all in and around this guys cracked up car until he brought back a back pack... "I found your cell phone, and your ipod, and anything that looked valuable... they're all in your back pack right here..." (WHO IS THIS DUDE? I couldn't help but wonder.) When the police and ambulance finally got through the traffic to get to us, I was starting to panic about how stable the driver seemed to be. He could move his legs a little but we told him to stay still. He said he "felt like shit," without mentioning any specific pain, but that seemed like a good sign too. I wanted to get the hell out of there before he went into shock or some internal injury caused him to arrest. I wanted to leave believing that he would somehow (ridiculously) be discharged from the hospital that afternoon with only bumps and bruises. That your entire car could fall to pieces around you, but your body could somehow be laid lightly in the snow as if plucked out by an angel.

That was how I wanted to leave this experience- and quickly after the ambulance arrived, I did- learning that:
1) If it looks like a bouncing car, it might not be your eyes playing tricks on you
2) They really make cars so much safer these days
3) Sometimes you just get insanely lucky
4) It's not a myth- there are these rough & tumble, thick-necked MacGyver types who roam the earth displaying quick-thinking, generousities that can baffle the mind.
5) Maybe I should travel with a little less crap in my car, so that in the event of a potentially fatal accident, an Eyewitness won't drive away like I did thinking, "Wow, she had a lot of crap in her car... I doubt she'll ever see most of that stuff again..."