TWENTY YEARS AGO TODAY … I broke my neck in a car accident which rendered me a complete quadriplegic for a short while. The only reason I am alive today, with relatively full functionality, is thanks to some stranger who saved my life and then disappeared without a trace.
On Leap Day 1988 in San Mateo, California I went on a BMW test drive. The salesman was driving. He was showing off the handing capabilities of the car on back roads. He lost control as we approached a turn which resulted in us plowing into a dirt embankment at what was estimated at 63 miles per hour. I was in the rear seat behind the driver – in a seatbelt, without an airbag.
While my seatbelt secured my body, my head continued to travel forward at 63 miles per hour. This resulted in a C2 spinal fracture (the same break that Superman’s Christopher Reeves experienced). I ended up sitting there in the car – each hand resting palm down on each leg, perfectly placed. Unable to hold my head up, I starred towards my lap fully aware we had crashed and to boot realized I was totally paralyzed and unable to breathe (as my hanging head blocked my wind pipe).
I had always wondered as a kid what would be the final minutes of thinking if you knew death was imminent. So there I sat staring at my hands slowly changing color from that of the living to that of the dead. And so it seemed this day would end my 23 years of Earthly habitation.
I do not know how many minutes I was forced to witness my slow death … more than a few minutes for sure and less than six for sure.
My door flies open, and only my door. An Asian man leans into the car and looks up into my face and says "Can you breathe?" I lip synch "No" … three times. He says "Do you want me to lift your head?" So, I lip synch "Yes" once. He proceeds to hold my head up in a hyper-extended fashion with perfection … as if medically trained. Once my head is extended I find I can breath. Move? No. Breathe, yes!
He holds my head in position with his arms fully extended for nearly thirty minutes until the ambulances arrive (heads are heavy and the fact this person could maintain this position for so long is in itself a miracle). Had he tried to rest or settle my head to assist the others in the car I would, without a doubt, be dead or a quadriplegic today.
The paramedics step in and take possession of my head.
Then … poof this savior disappears! No sign of him. No witnesses, no reference in the police report. Nothing.
The doctors told my parents I would most likely be paralyzed for life. No one told me that though … and so, despite this prognosis ... I recovered.
And recover I did - over the next four or five months, although not fully. To this day, I suffer from a very rare condition called Brown-Sequard Syndrome. In short, the center of my spinal cord in the vicinity of the C2 vertebrae is now dead. As a result, the right side of my body has a very lower ability to sense hot, cold, and pain. And the nervous system on the left side of my body is hypersensitive and I have a noticeable degree of muscle atrophy on the left side as my brain does not talk to all of those muscles anymore.
Lucky? Yep.
Does such an accident reorient one to the value of life and priorities? True, although oddly this new think only lasted about six months!
What are my thoughts about death now? Every day since February 29th, 1988 has been an extra day.
Regrets? I only wish I could locate and thank the person who saved me. Maybe he wonders what came of my condition and if he had done the right thing. My parents, my children, my girlfriend, and I would like to convey our thanks.
Dear Mr. Stranger: Thank you.
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Jeff, that's an amazing story. Your recent Ironman swings the pendulum appropriately in the other direction. Kudos. Through my wife's illness am also learning to squeeze more out of and into life. It is not easy, but living on the edge of uncertainty makes living that much more remarkable.
Posted by: Francis Shanahan | February 29, 2008 at 07:40 AM
Wow - quite a story, Jonas. perhaps that guy was from another world or dimension.
The coolest thing? The link to your mom's blog. :-)
Pegggggy Z.
Posted by: Pegggggy | February 29, 2008 at 10:29 AM
jeff. your story always moves me. i remember that young man, and to this day i am inspired by your recovery, integrity, and general lust for life. by the way, what happened to the guy who was driving?
i'll think of you on every leap day.
stef
Posted by: Stephanie Heuer | February 29, 2008 at 04:23 PM
You are simultaneously very lucky and very blessed. I've been reading your blog for the technology, but I now have a better perspective of you, the person. Thanks for sharing a very personal event.
Posted by: Tom in Maryland | March 01, 2008 at 06:01 AM
Wow, who'd have thought, you never mentioned it. My 30th anniversary of a similar but not quite as serious accident is this year. I was in an medically induced coma for 4-days over my 21st birthday.
Nice to learn you were as ambitious then as you are now, 23 and looking to buy a BMW... sweet, personally I'm a Merc man.
Good luck at IMSA, I'm not aiming nearly as high this year... IM 70.3 Austin for me.
Posted by: Mark Cathcart | March 05, 2008 at 02:05 PM
Hi. I read your story. I know what it's like to go through all that. I'm having probblems from about 17yrs.ago.1991 I was in a back seat also that crashed and hit a tree. I broke my neck c-2 and sustained a head injury. I was in ancomma for about a week and spent almost a year in the hospital.I have sizures from the acciddent,lost some of my memory from before the acciddent.Now have short term memory and sizures.Came out of coma I was told ther was a war going on and I was back in the Nation Guard.I'm happy that you're doing well and happy.
Posted by: James | March 29, 2008 at 12:42 PM
Hi. I read your story. I know what it's like to go through all that. I'm having probblems from about 17yrs.ago.1991 I was in a back seat also that crashed and hit a tree. I broke my neck c-2 and sustained a head injury. I was in ancomma for about a week and spent almost a year in the hospital.I have sizures from the acciddent,lost some of my memory from before the acciddent.Now have short term memory and sizures.Came out of coma I was told ther was a war going on and I was back in the Nation Guard.I'm happy that you're doing well and happy.
Posted by: James | March 29, 2008 at 12:42 PM
Jeff - I am glad you wrote about your story. I was just telling my husbands dad about your blog last night and how interesting it is.. and how interesting you are so I "dropped by" to read it... and I see you have recalled this amazing story. Unreal. You were undoubtedly a very lucky man that day... and the stranger... wow... maybe someday he will stumble on your blog... stranger things have happened!
Posted by: Laura McClure (used to be Martin) | April 10, 2008 at 10:16 AM
Wow, what an amazing story. Truly inspiring. Moments like these make you think about how precious life is. Also makes you wonder what was going through the mind of your savior at the time.
It could be positive:
"Alright, I am saving a person's life here!"
It could be neutral, given his possible medical background: "Another poor guy in an unfortunate accident that might be helped."
In the worst case scenario (for a "success" story like yours), it could be negative, like:
"OK, I am saving this person's life, who, at worst, will die in the nearby future. At best, some recovery possible by miracle, he might be able to move a bit and somewhat get his life back. Most likely: be paralyzed and bedridden for his entire life, unable to eat, pee, poop, do ANYTHING but lie in bed involuntarily. Am I really doing him a favor? Does he really understand what he is asking me to do by helping him here?"
Imagine him making contact with you after a few months/years and go:
"Hey, remember me? I was the guy that helped you out in that car accident, so how are you doing?
The difference between going:
"Hello sir! Great, I have recovered quite well and can largely life my normal life again, but appreciating it a lot more! And it is all because of you!"
and
"Hello sir. Well, I am still paralyzed from the neck down and...."
…is huge, of course.
However, I do not want to get overly analytical, especially considering I found this blog through Nature.com because I was interested in your IT views. Yet, I think it must have, psychologically speaking, been a difficult moment for him, too.
Course, as long as you live your life to the fullest, and it seems like you have, still do and always will continue to, it is all good :)
Posted by: Wobbler | April 15, 2008 at 04:18 AM
That was a very emotional story. Congratulations on an extra 20 years. Thank goodness for people who train in first aid and medicine. Thankyou to everyone who does, you're safeguarding us all.
Posted by: Linda | May 09, 2008 at 10:37 AM