A Drunk + A Car = Life Interrupted

The call came mid-morning Saturday as I sat browsing the internet (probably Active Rain, though I don’t remember) sipping a cup of coffee.  I had been scheduled for phone duty at 9:00, but a co-worker had called the afternoon before asking to switch.  No problem.  My husband, RenRed (short for Renaissance Redneck), would be glad to hear that.  With two teenagers and only three cars on the weekends, vehicles were in short supply.

“Hey, honey.  I don’t have to go into work until 2:30, so I won’t need the car.  You can use it if you need it.”  I knew he would take advantage of the opportunity to go down to his dad’s rural East Texas hunting camp.  How I wish I had that 9:00 phone duty slot back.

So, as I was saying, I’m surfing the ‘net.  Ring.  Ring.  I pick up the phone, look at the display, but don’t recognize the long distance number.  No big deal.  We’ve gotten so many political survey calls lately….

“Hey, I’ve been in a bad accident….  No, I think I’m gonna be okay…. They’re gonna take me to the hospital….  I think the other guy’s dead….  The car’s totaled….  No, it wasn’t….  He crossed the center line….  Yeah, meet me at the hopital.”

The hospital – 30 minutes away.  “FIDDLER, I need you!!!”

“What do you want?” from Fiddler, the 16 year-old.

“I NEED YOU!  NOW!!  Here, look up the directions to the hospital and print them out for me.  Then get me the Shelby County sheriff’s office phone number.”

I dash in a daze to the bedroom – I’m still in my pajamas, haven’t had a shower.  Do I take the time to shower?  How long will it take him to get there?  He said the ambulance wasn’t there yet.  He’ll have to talk to the police….”

I hurriedly get ready, then call my father-in-law and tell him the news.  He wants to follow me to the hospital.  No, no.  Can you find out where they’re taking the car, and go get all the stuff out of it?

“Fiddler, look up the number of the insurance company.”  My mind is so muddled right now – I know I have it somewhere, but can’t think where.

In the car, down the highway.  Pray that RenRed will be okay and that the other guy will live.  Call the insurance company.  Gave the robot the wrong member number and keep getting bounced back to the same message.  Dial again.  Finally get through the maddening phone robot maze to a human voice.

Off the phone.  Oh, no!  Have I passed my exit?  Yes, I think I just passed my exit.  Great, I’ll have to turn around up here.  Oh, this is it.  Yea.

At the hospital, there is nobody to be seen.  Not a solitary soul at the front desk.  I walk around the corner.  Nobody.  There’s a door, and I figure if I open it, someone will come popping out to tell me I can’t do that.  Door opens.  I see a friend and he waves me in.  Yes, he’s a nurse who works at this little hospital ER on the weekends.  Thank you, Lord.

“We’re just taking him into x-ray.  You can come see him.  He’s gonna be okay”  He’s pale, quiet, shaken.  But he doesn’t seem to be in too much pain.

Life interrupted.

Diagnosis:  Avulsion fracture of the left tibia.  Treatment:  None.  Recovery period:  6-8 weeks.

Diagnosis:  Seat belt abrasion, contusions and swelling on both shins, laceration on left shin, burn on right thumb, neck pain, soreness all over.  Treatment:  Rest.  Recovery period:  ??

Life interrupted.

The other driver had already been convicted of 3 DUIs, has no driver’s license and no auto insurance.  He was airlifted to a major trauma center where he remains in ICU.  He had a broken leg requiring surgery and probably numerous other injuries.  He is 42 years old and is well-known in his small town for his drinking and his driving while drunk.  There was an empty bottle of vodka in the car.  After being convicted in 2007 for his 3rd DUI, he was sentenced to 6 months probation.

Life interrupted.

We paid our insurance premiums.  We will pay our insurance deductible.  We paid for his helicopter ride to the ER and his treatment at the state-funded trauma center.  We will not receive enough from insurance to pay off our less than one year old vehicle.

We are not angry at him, we pray for him, we are glad he’s alive.  We agonize over someone whose life is so bad that they must anesthetize themselves on a daily basis with alcohol.  Who can help a person like this?  No rehab progam can do that.  There’s one thing he needs and we pray that this will draw him to the Lord.

No, we’re not mad at him, but we are angry at the system that would let him back on the street to use his vehicle as a weapon and endanger other people.  There are no easy answers to the problem of drunk drivers.  There are no quick solutions for a system that has no room in its jails for these repeat offenders.

Life interrupted, but life goes on.  I have my husband.  He will heal.  We’ll get another car, though perhaps not as nice.  We are not slaves to alcohol.

His life will go on.  We pray that it will not go on in the same way, down the same path.  We pray that he will change.  Please pray with us.  His name is John.

Life goes on.  Thanks for “listening”.