Huarghhh… I’m in pain!

Every now and then, for no noticeable reason, my neck gives out. Today it was while I was washing my hair in the shower. Go figure! It doesn’t happen as regularly as it used to - I think the last time was last October - but it’s still painful enough to stop me driving and force me to work from home - Yippee!

For those that don’t already know, it all stems from a head-on collision I had with a lorry nearly two years ago. Sharon (my wife), myself and Nathan (who was 6 months old at the time) were caught up in somebody’s suicide attempt. A 79 year old man used the lorry to great effect and painted the inside of his Volkswagen Polo with his internal organs. He also managed to take out the wheels under the lorry’s cab in the process which then, after pinballing bwteen the curb and another lorry, came growling and spitting towards our car.

I remember how dark everything became as we came under its shadow, and then the windows vaporising. I also remember how quiet everything was afterwards, and that my radio was still playing and the engine was still running. And eveything was so peaceful.

The coroner’s report said that the old man had, only days before, been discharged from St. Mary Hospital in Kettering having ‘recovered’ from yet another bout of depression. He wasn’t wearing his seat belt and eye witness accounts say he appeared to swerve deliberately into the path of the oncoming lorry. He was also quoted as saying that if he ever did plan to kill himself, he would do it with a lorry on that particular stretch of road. But the coroner concluded that there was no conclusive evidence of suicide, and I guess I’m supposed to assume it was just incompetance.

Amazingly my wife and I managed to walk away from the accident ‘unharmed’; tiptoeing through bits of vehicle, puddles of oil, fuel, and blood. (Nathan was too young to walk ;-))

Despite everything, my strongest memories are of the people around us. I remember cars pulling up to awe at spectacle. Parents ushering their young kids from the back seat and helping them clamber through the roadside bushes so they could get a better look at the “dead people”; quality family viewing I guess! I also remember a photographer scavenging the carnage, picking through with her eyes for the best photographic morsels, and the police making a concerted effort to shield us so that we didn’t appear in the papers.

But I also remember two soldiers who appeared from nowhere and took control of the situation. They leant me a mobile phone and dialled it for me so I could call my parents (my phone no longer worked). They also helped a passer-by who was in shock himself because he had been over to the old man’s Polo to see if he could put his first aid skills to use. Then, as quickly as they appeared, the soldiers vanished when the emergency services turned up.

So occasionally my neck gives out. And occasionally I’m in pain. So what! I know it could have been much, much worse and I guess I’m glad to have this occasional reminder; it gives me kick up the arse whenever I start to take the important things for granted.