Lost

Journal Entry: Wednesday November 29, 2006

Rewind to November 11, three months and counting before we set sail for our adventure. This fine Saturday night I throw on sexy high heels with a sleek military style black dress. I dazzle my eye lids with white shimmer and gloss my lips with vibrant rock star red. I look like a 1950’s air force chick slash pinup girl, minus the only wearing lingerie look. Brandy is glowing with her bronze attire I have dressed her in and Erica is looking bubbly and stylish with her newly died extra bright red hair. Off we go with the boys to a high class snobby bar in Corona del Mar, the land of the plastics as I like to call it. We go there really for shits and giggles and to make fun of the cougars ( 40 year old filthy rich women recently divorced or in the mood for adultery) picking up on all the Emo’s ( douche bag OC guys that live with their parents still but act like they are celebrities). The night is flowing pleasantly with a dirty goose martini in my right hand and a cigarette in my left. To add to the fun of seeing how trendy and pathetic this place is, I am thoroughly amused from all the snooty glares from the plastics in their Gucci attire. As I am attempting to go outside, to my pleasant surprise, a little snot decides to give me a hard time and starts mouthing off like a cat in heat. Since I am not in the mood for more of her bitching I kindly remark, “Fuck you!” Not very lady like, I know. Fast forward ten minutes later, to Brandy and my pleasant surprise, we walk into the bathroom only to see little non existent plastic nose snot and her two partners in crime. Before I knew it her lovely friend has grabbed me by the neck and shoved me. Well I guess you can say the ghetto came out in me and before I knew it I had knocked the bitch down on the floor. While the other little plastic snot came rushing at me from the side I managed to elbow her in the face and ever so gently rip her hair extensions the fuck out of her head. Now why was little playboy white girl wearing extensions in the first place baffled me for a moment. But nevertheless, no time for thinking because the bouncer was quickly removing us from the bar.
Outside of the bar Brandy and I are heated from our glorious WWF victory and our friends stumble out just in time for plan B, after all the night was still young so why end the fun now. Erica is ever so annoyed with our immaturity and is arguing with Zach. She runs across the street to get in a cab and Zach tells us to go with her so she doesn’t go by herself and off we go heading across the street. So here is the moment where you’ve seen it in the movies, read about it in the news, but never fathom this is about to become your reality.
I can’t focus and keep my eyes open and everything is so fuzzy. Its really bright and there are people all around me. I know I am laying in a bed, I know I am wearing a thin paper gown, and I know I can’t move. I can talk though which is good, but I am so exhausted I just want to sleep. I managed to ask, “what happened“? A female voice calmly explains you were hit by a car, do you not remember anything”? “No” is all I manage to reply and then everything goes black again. I think to myself before I fall back into the black hole, “just sleep this weird nightmare off.”
That voice again, “Your parents are hear to see you. Damn it, the nightmare hasn‘t gone away yet. Oh fuck I think, did I do something wrong? I can’t remember anything, what is going on? Followed by “We are going to put some staples in your head right now.” I think, “your going to do what!” “Are you fucking kidding me!” And, like my flesh was a packet of paper being stapled neatly together, I felt one by one go crunch, crunch, crunch. I think it was really painful but I was so disoriented I thankfully can’t remember how acute the pain really was.
In walks mom and dad and I began to cry not knowing what else to say but, “I am so sorry, I am so sorry.” My mom immediately goes to work probing at my legs examining my wounds. My dad ironically appears calm or maybe more just in disbelief or shock. Now I start feeling the pain and nausea seep throughout my body and my head won’t stop spinning. The morphine is powerful though and keeps areas numb unless I move an inch. I learn quickly to be wise about keeping still unless I want to feel another pang of excruciating pain shoot through me. My pelvis feels like its dislocated and someone needs to knock it back in place. When they finally move me out of critical care into a room I want to beg them not to move me ever again because I don’t want to cry out loud anymore. But I stay quiet and try not to complain because I don’t want to scare my mom on how bad it really hurts.
So its morning now and after ten hours, finally the nurse lets me drink a little water. I am finally able to force my brain to remember what happened with the assistance of friends. The reports come to me in bits and pieces and I compile it layer upon layer in my brain until I finally have the lump sum which is as follows. Brandy and I were hit by a drunk 23 year old driver going 40 miles an hour in a Durango. Neither of us saw it coming and apparently the driver was so concerned of the police tail gaiting him he didn’t see us either. I flew up on the windshield and was knocked on the ground. Little petite Brandy flew out thirty feet. You know how you hear about people’s shoes flying off their feet in accidents due to the velocity and impact of the collision? Well the same thing happened to us even though we both had strapped heels on. Zach says he ran up to me first and I wasn’t breathing, but thank god I finally caught my breath. Amazingly I was awake and trying to get up. Erica tells me I was talking back to her and was self conscious of my dress riding up and mostly concerned of being exposed. What a cliché considering I think being exposed was clearly already accomplished with the crowd watching across the street. The ambulance rushed us to the trauma center, and upon arrival my clothes were completely cut off. Adios fur jacket, sleek black dress, new push up bra, and satin black g string. I remember my hair was like crunchy straw from all the blood so I can only imagine what my clothes looked like. Thanks but no thanks on wanting those suckers back. At least the surgeon who cut off my clothes was gorgeous although I find out later how he lacks in any social etiquette and grace and would probably be a complete dud if you catch my drift.
So from living in the moment, enjoying every second of my good life and being on top of the world, I guess you could say I was lost for words, feelings, and any emotions. From working in corporate America Marriott sales at least nine hours a day, followed by two hours of kickboxing, concluding with partying and spending time with my loved ones and frequent vacations, to lying in a hospital with a fractured knee, broken hand, three pelvis breaks, fractured back, and a severe concussion, I was definitely not feeling like a million bucks anymore. To top it off, Brandy had neck fractures to add to her pelvis breaks and was in a lot more pain than me. Erica witnessing the entire ordeal flash right in front of her, had gone into such severe shock that she had bit Jet’s shoulder and now has to go to therapy to cope with the trauma. The next few days in the hospital consisted of wishing that every time I doze off I would awake in my own bed, that this was just a horrific nightmare, the adventure was still scheduled to set sail in three months, and my body had not just been bashed into a ton of bricks.