Just Breathe

 

I'm all right, I'm all right
It only hurts
When I breathe

Melissa Etheridge, "Breathe"

 

Pain. The heat. The sudden silence after two deafening bangs. The realization that I could have died, that I should have died, but I was still breathing even though it hurt. And then, the cries of children in the other car, gaining volume by the minute.

Bad things happen. We read about them in newspapers. We watch snippets of them on television. We hear about them from family or friends. Bad things happen, just not to us. That was what I thought, until two weeks ago.

Initially I only planned to drive twice between Kuala Lumpur and Kota Bharu: to Kota Bharu at the beginning of the first year, and back to Kuala Lumpur after I pass the Part 1 exam. Seven to eight hours per trip, following a mostly-one-lane road. However, because of the neurotrauma conference organized by my department in Hospital Kuala Lumpur (not mine as in mine, but more of my home, among family) between 7th and 9th December, I decided to drive back on Tuesday the 6th as I would be using the car a lot, and I've already imposed on Ayis and Faiz more than enough whenever I come home for weekends. Mama came home from Haj December 3rd, and we had agreed that I would not be greeting her at the airport, and would see her when I got back instead.

But, like the plots in stories that I love to write, things didn't work out as planned. When Mama arrived, Kasha told me that Mama had a high grade fever and severe coughs, up to the extent of coughing out blood. I assured Kasha, but who was I kidding? Of course I was worried. After much deliberation, I decided to come home earlier. I informed my supervisor that I had to drive back to KL on Sunday the 4th. Faizul was supposed to drive back with me on Tuesday, but since I had to drive back earlier, he couldn't make the trip. Ailani wanted to hitch a ride with me back to KL, but then her car broke down and she had to settle the problem. So I was alone, but I had an iPhone filled with good music to keep me company. And I'm used to long-distance drives. Thing is, I always inform my family whenever I make long-distance travels, but not that day.

I left Kota Bharu after 11:00, after I was certain there was no pressing work matters to attend to. Traffic was moderate, and because of the single-lane road, I had to trail slow cars and lorries most of the time. I avoid overtaking unless I'm directly behind the offensively slow car, and even then only at dotted lines. I'm a stickler for rules when it comes to safety. Needless to say, I took almost 3 1/2 hours to drive 200kms. Kind of depressing, come to think about it. Still, I thought I was making relatively good time, and the music was on full-blast, my preferred volume. 

I wanted to try the new Gua Musang-Simpang Pulai "highway" (it traverses the Titiwangsa mountain range, so it's not your conventional highway). I'm used to the Gua Musang-Kuala Lipis road, but it's usually filled with lorries and buses. Besides, once I reached Simpang Pulai, I'd be entering a major highway straight to KL, which would take 1 1/2 hours at most. Or so I thought.

The Gua Musang-Simpang Pulai highway was a lonely one; not much traffic, and the path is windy at best. But it's definitely scenic. One hour in, I was about 90kms from Ipoh, and I was bobbing my head to "Haruka Kanata" (Naruto theme song). I was careful not to drive over 70 km/h, and out of habit, I never speed when I use a road for the first time.

Butterfingers' "The Chemistry (Between Us)" had just started, building up to a crescendo, and I was making a bend to the right, when a gray Wira came from the opposite direction, fast. It broached my lane, partially, but I was too late to do anything.

Impact. Twice. The peals were deafening.

My car spun.

Then there was silence. The engine had died, there was smoke coming from the front, and I felt this intense heat.

More than that, the pain in my abdomen was so great that I could not breathe.

But I continued to take one breath. Then another.

And then I thought about the other car.

I disengaged my safety belt and forced the door opened. I stumbled out of the car, but then my left hip buckled. God, I can't even describe the pain. But I kept limping to the other car. Suddenly there were a few men who rushed toward the gray Wira. The passenger side had rammed against the safety railing, and the driver side was so squashed we could not open any of the doors. Children were screaming and crying from inside. One of the men supported me to the roadside, but all I could think about was there were still people inside, and from the cries, I thought the driver was already dead.

Working in Neurosurgery, I've come across countless road-traffic accident victims. I treat them the best I could, and at the same time give a silent prayer of gratitude that it's not me, it's not my family. I never imagined I would be part of the statistics.

I won't go into detail. It's enough that I have to live through the vivid replays all the time, and I have to drown myself in Skyrim to distract myself. But surprisingly, I was in full doctor mode when I saw one of the girls semi-conscious when the men finally got her out of the car. My phone had no reception, and I asked for one of the policemen to contact Hospital Gua Musang for me to inform them the three girls would be sent there.

Two ambulances and one fire truck finally came, and they sawed off the top of the car to access the front seats. The driver was alive, but barely. His wife was conscious, but bloodied and had a fractured femur. I shared an ambulance with her. We were rushed to Hospital Tanah Rata, Cameroon Highlands, but because I was stable, the doctors attended the other victims first. I waited, not for them to attend me, but for updates on the others.

The driver passed away from massive chest injuries. His wife was stable, and would be sent later to Hospital Ipoh for further management. I sustained a left iliac fracture, and according to the Orthopedic surgeon in Ipoh, it extended to my nerve root outlet. I was lucky I had no nerve injuries.

I was lucky to be alive.

My family came that night to Hospital Tanah Rata, all tears and worries, and I was too drowsy to assure Mama that I was going to be all right. Even Pak Su drove with his family despite his worsening gouty arthritis. The doctor at Tanah Rata wanted to send me over to Ipoh in the morning, but Adrian had called his Neurosurgery teammates, and they arranged for my transfer that night itself. Faiz followed me, and the rest of my family drove home. They wanted for me to be transferred to Hospital Kuala Lumpur, but it was not possible.

One of the perks of my rank is a single-bedded first class room, which was perfect as Faiz could sleep on the sofa. My brother showed a side of him that he had never revealed before. He ran up and down the five floors to get me drinks and sandwiches, and later on a change of clothes and underwear and toothbrush/paste, and after that phone chargers (which short-circuited and burned, and he had to walk down and back up again to get a new one). He also towel-bathed me, and jumped every time I winced in pain or when I wanted to readjust my position. I couldn't pee on the bed (I had a condom catheter on), so I forced myself to hop on my right leg using crutches. I could only move my hip in certain positions, lest I had to endure a ripping agony. It took all my concentration and effort not to scream.

I was discharged on Tuesday, and we had chartered a private ambulance to take me home. Mama had bought a divan for my room downstairs, but as it hadn't arrived, Ayis, Faiz and Kasha brought down my bed from upstairs. Mama was diagnosed to have bronchitis, but being the hero that she is, she mothered me despite her being on the verge of collapsing. When the divan arrived the next day, Faiz set up the sheets and Kasha set up my laptop so I could play TV dramas to get my mind off my waking nightmare.

I'm still learning to walk again. It hurts, but I have to force myself. Now that I'm coughing, I try my best to avoid coughing as each bout sends an intense pain at my left hip. Since my coughs are getting worse, my hip is aching from the recurrent assaults of pain.

Faiz, Papa and my cousin Hafizal (along with his girlfriend) went to the police station near Cameroon Highlands where my car lay dead. They took pictures, and everyone agreed that I was lucky to have driven my Nissan Latio. They also agreed that I was indeed lucky to be alive.

I'm alive, and in time I'll be able to walk again. I'll be able to go back to work in January, and sit for my exam in May. The other family has lost its head, its protection. And I have to live with that, even though everyone keeps telling that it's not my fault.

And I'm also aware how blessed I am. How loved I am. Friends and family called, SMSed and came to visit. My first-year friends immediately offered themselves to take over my on-call dates. Jon Kooi, Ailani and Faizul came to visit, and still call to ask how I'm doing. My Hospital Kuala Lumpur family offered to carry me in a wheelchair to the conference, or at least the dinner. Friends from my writing life, Azita, Breanna and John, mothered me from afar. It goes without saying that Mama mothers me. Even Faiz does that still. Ayis drove me to Hospital Kuala Lumpur in the middle of the night because I developed an intense pain on my right hypochondriac region (between my ribcage and abdomen). No internal injuries. I may have a right rib fracture, though, and I feel a painful snap every time I shift to my side.

Even though it hurts, I will be all right. Even though I can no longer have the lights off, I will be all right.

I just have to breathe.

Comments

[Breanna]

Not lucky. Alive for a reason. (And I am still praying.)

Meanwhile, a slice of ginger in the bottom of a mug of hot water plus a couple of tablespoons of honey might calm down that cough.

[Account Deleted]

I cried reading this. Heal soon Fadz, my doa is with you. Take care.

[Azita]

Awwhh Nate, your comment itself made me want to tear up.

I'm not good at words of comfort, Fadz and I was really shocked and speechless. Hope I didn't smother u instead by bombarding u with emails after the call :P

Glad you're much better now, physically healing right and I hope emotionally too.

I think you need a good dose of humour to lighten up your days at home ;) Hope it doesn't hurt to have a laugh ^_^