Crash, by the Numbers

12—o’clock on a November night

1—sweet little blue pick-up truck driven by

1—lone woman headed for a new home

1400—miles away in Wisconsin

75—the speed limit on I-80 Eastbound, central Wyoming

0—signs of bad weather as I drove up one side of the pass

50—my speed as I drove past mile-marker 247, I-80, Eastbound, Wyoming

1—black-ice patch waiting for me at the base of the other side

10—seconds to spin and roll

20—feet down the

40—degree slope

2—complete rolls

180—degree spin

2—head lights staring off at

100’s—of sagebrush and

1000’s—of blowing snowflakes

3—pounds of pink-gray tissue contained inside my skull

1350—pounds of force when my brain followed the same path as my truck

1350—pounds of force when my brain followed the same path as my truck, again

40—pound computer monitor missed my head and slammed into the passenger-seat

1—quart of liquid laundry-soap glanced off my head and exploded in my lap

18—inches shorter than my truck had been before

2—fewer windows

33—miles from the nearest town

50—mile-an-hour winds

29—degrees Fahrenheit

20—minutes after the crash they closed the freeway due to blizzard conditions

0—bars on my cell-phone

20—square feet of 9-1-1 reception

3—times I had to walk to the nearest mile-marker before I could remember what it said

40—minutes before the Highway Patrol reached me

15—minutes to become hypothermic

90—minute drive to the hospital

1—medic in the ambulance was

21—years old and the only kind face I saw all night long

3—CAT scans I did not agree to at

3000—dollars each

12—days since my health insurance ended

8—dollars for the cab ride to a hotel that was

3—blocks from the hospital, but no one bothered to point that out

0—calls from the hospital to my family or friends

0—clue what town I was in

0—idea where my truck was

0—concern for what would happen to me when I left the ER

1000—dollars to rent a U-Haul

3—hours to track down my sad, smashed truck and belongings

36—hours I’d been awake by the time I stopped at a hotel

17—hours before I showered off the laundry soap that was causing chemical burns to my skin

3—more days to reach Wisconsin

2—hitchikers with

3—dogs were company from Nebraska to the Mississippi

6—days before the adrenaline faded and I felt the pain of

100’s of sprained muscles and

1—mild concussion

6—months I could not work

2—months I was homeless

15—months for my body to heal

2—years to heal my mind

2—years to figure out how to pick up and keep driving

compiled 2011