I warned you yesterday that this one was serious, so be prepared because it's going to get heavy. This is quite the departure from what I normally post on here. It's called Rhythm of a Life, and this was a big part of mine.

If you know me personally, then you might know that I had a pretty serious car accident last summer. Actually, it was a year ago today to be exact. I don't remember anything about the actual wreck. All I know is that I was on my way to spend the weekend with my grandparents. I was about 10 minutes from their houses when I ran off the road a little bit. The place that I went off at was so steep. Once I was off the road, I didn't have a chance of getting back on it. What's weird about this is that my grandmother had a bad feeling about me coming the whole time. She called me three times during the trip. One of which was 2 minutes before I had my wreck (Someone told me that later because I don't remember it).

There were 3 people traveling behind me: a man on a motorcycle who watched the entire thing happen and two nurses that didn't even see me in the ditch. The man on the motorcycle waved them down, so they knew something must be wrong. I'm so glad they turned around and came back. If the fact that 2 nurses were the people who stopped to help me doesn't tell you that the Lord was watching me that day, I don't know what could. I remember nothing of my encounter with them, but I got the chance to meet them at Christmas time. They filled in a few gaps. I was upside down, and my windows were smashed out. One of them crawled in the passenger window and one in the window of the seat behind mine. They couldn't see my face at the time, so they just took some time to talk to me. They said I was very calm about it which I chalk up to having no idea what was happening. They took my seatbelt off because I was having trouble breathing. They had called the police who decided to call MedFlight. Now, we are to the parts that I remember. The first thing I remember after my accident is waking up in a helicopter and saying, "Is this real?" Much to my surprise, they said it was. They asked if I knew where I was when I had the wreck. I confidently answered the Natchez Trace, and that confident answer was wrong. As it turns out, I lost about 30 minutes of my life somewhere in there. If you hadn't guessed already, I was definitely concussed. (Side note: To this day, I'm still more afraid of driving on the Trace than I am of the actual location of my accident. I go a different way to avoid the Trace completely). 

I blacked out again and woke up in the hospital to the sound of a lot of commotion around me.  This is when I realized that the wreck had actually happened. The first questions they asked me were, "Were you texting?" and "Why weren't you wearing your seatbelt?" Let me be clear, I was definitely not texting (the timestamps on my phone were checked), and I absolutely was wearing my seatbelt. Now, I'm going to get on my car safety soapbox for a second. DON'T TEXT AND DRIVE. It is so dangerous. If you are a teenager and you have a wreck, it is the first thing they will assume happened. Please don't live up to that stereotype. No conversation is worth possibly losing your own life or taking another's. If the conversation is urgent, just call. Don't be foolish enough to think that you are "good" at texting and driving. It isn't a skill where practice makes perfect. Distracted driving is dangerous driving. Always. You are operating a 2000 pound vehicle, and that deserves all of your attention. Trust me, you don't want the massive helicopter/hospital bills just because you wanted to tell someone you were almost there. WEAR YOUR SEATBELT. If you recall, the nurses who helped me had taken mine off. That is why they thought I wasn't wearing one. Trust me, I had the bruises to prove it. I will never get in a car without a seatbelt, and I don't drive until everyone in my car has their's on. They are in every car for a reason, and that reason is they can save your life. Please value yourself enough to put it on, and value your passengers enough to make them do the same. *steps off soapbox* 

I faded in and out of consciousness through the whole ER experience. I distinctly remember the arrival of each of my family members. My cousin got there before me and was there to hold my hand through stitches. My grandmother and aunt were close behind. My brother was third, and I still can't erase the image of his face when he saw me from my mind. They told him I was okay, so he wasn't worried. His jaw dropped a lot when he finally made it there which is why we sent warning pictures to my parents. Oh yeah, my parents. I forgot to mention that they were 7 hours away on an anniversary vacation. Quite the present I got them. After a CAT scan, they gave me a run down of my injuries: a broken cheekbone, a concussion, a cut in my head that went all the way to my skull, and a need for stitches in my finger. How I flipped a car and only came out with those I will never understand. 

After lots of stitches, cutting off a lot of my hair (my Alfalfa-like struggle was very real for a long time), and me begging them to let me sleep, I finally got moved to a room. Once I was in there, I finally got the sleep I begged for, so it's all a bit hazy. I got my brother to post in my social club's Facebook group just so someone out there would be lifting up some prayers. My parents finally arrived. My mom stayed with me, and my dad left to go reassure my grandparents that I was fine. You see, they saw the car before me, so they needed some convincing. The next morning they wanted me to eat. They offered me a burger, which if you know me, you'll feel that irony. 

I have never moved so slowly in my life than I did the days after my accident. Between the soreness and waves of nausea, it took me at least 5 minutes just to stand up let alone move anywhere. The going home process was a slow one, but the staff was incredibly understanding. I made a stop at my grandparents and was met with tears. After getting home, the next few days and weeks were filled with soreness, crying, and only eating popsicles (everything else just sounded disgusting). In that time when I was feeling awful, I felt so much love being sent my way. I am so thankful for the people in my life. Whether they sent a text or were about to get in their car and drive to the hospital I was in, it was just what I needed in that time. 

I am still in disbelief that I came out of this the way I did. The Lord was with me on July 12, 2013, of that I have no doubt. Whether it was sending the right people to me at the perfect time, the skill of the doctors, or the compassion that I found in my parents and friends, He had a hand in it all. For that, I can't even begin to be grateful enough. 

I shared the pictures of my car on Facebook a couple weeks after the wreck. It took me that long to build up the courage to even look at them. They served as a part of my healing process and have helped me see how incredible this all is. My dad asked if I would be brave enough to share the pictures of myself after the wreck this year. The only ones I have were what my cousin sent to my mom and dad, so they would be fully prepared once they got to me. I didn't think I was brave enough, but I guess I got a stroke of courage while writing this to at least share one. Don't worry, it isn't like I was Two-Face from Batman, and I'm not showing you the picture they took of the cut in my head. If you still don't want to see the hospital picture, I totally understand. They just speak volumes for the Guardian that I had. To give a warning, the order is 2 car pictures, the hospital picture, 1 after I had gotten home, and 1 of the car I have now.

If you made it all the way to here, thanks for caring enough about me to care about this story. I am so thankful for you. Like I said shortly after my accident, I am truly blessed to know you.