The Tragedy Of A Terrible Car Accident

On a sunny afternoon in May of 2013 I learned a very important lesson. I was at a family auction in the small quiet town of Ames, Oklahoma. The dew was still wet on the ground and the air was crisp. There was a lot of my extended family there as well as people I had never met. I got to see my cousin Taylor as well as one of her cousins named Jadey. We decided we were going to go ride four wheelers out in the field and it was at that time I learned a valuable lesson. Four wheeler accidents happen often, but I never expected to be the one involved. Before my accident I thought four wheelers were fairly safe, but afterwards I learned that an accident can happen in a split second and you should never assume you won’t be the one involved.

I was scared. I was just plain scared. The constant sound of a shrinking beeping. The smells of the antiseptic hospital ward. I was in shock and in complete disbelief. Why I am here? I should be at home doing my homework for the next day, but I am not. I am here. Now, I am lying on a flat patient cot. The yellow walls in my room had a distinct feeling that I was in a psychiatric ward was had utterly cold, however everyone on the floor was welcoming and willing to help. Nurses are bombarding into the room asking questions. In the meantime, my left arm is swollen from the IV stuck in me. I feel like a toddler having no idea about her surroundings. This all could have been avoided; however now it does not matter. I am glued to a sterile bed. A

What do you get when you mix drugs, a man named Fuckhead, and drama? A Denis Johnson story. Drama is a prominent and key aspect that appears in all of Johnson’s work. Johnson’s work demonstrates various uses of multiple techniques and ideas that young writers can understand and apply to their own work.

The E.M.T.'s put me in the ambulance where they connect leads to check my heartbeat. Hearing the "beep... beep..." sound from the machine, I finally feel earth bound again. How wonderful to feel the great rock. Then, the E.M.T.'s began applying antiseptic. It was supposed to be painful, but the joys of surviving have covered that pain. I felt reality slipping away, and the last thing I heard is the "whoop" of the siren which escorted us all the way to the hospital.

Getting in a car accident is an unnerving thing. You never know what can happen and if your lucky you might see it coming. Well as often as these accidents occur, it happened to Spencer and I on one fateful summer evening.

“Right this way,” the nurse ahead of me was prompting me to a brightly lit hall that was completely foreign to me. I couldn’t help but be terrified by the sights and sounds around me: people chattering, machines methodically beeping, gurneys rushing past. It was my first time in a hospital and my eyes frantically searched each room looking for any trace of my father. She stopped suddenly and I turned to the bed in front of me but I could not comprehend what I saw. At such a young age, I idolized my father; I had never seen him so vulnerable. Seeing him laying in a hospital bed unconscious, surrounded by wires and tubes was like witnessing Superman encounter kryptonite. My dad’s car accident not only made him a quadriplegic, but also crippled

In the fall semester of 2012, four teenagers at the high school I attend died tragically in automobile accidents. One of the students who lost their life was my cousin Acasia Lee. She neglected to wear her seatbelt while operating her vehicle and she died because she did not have it on.

You’d attempted suicide three times. The first time, being the one that landed you here the first time, you miraculously survived. They told you so, too. ‘You shouldn’t have woken up.’, those were the doctors exact words. But you did, and the next few times that occurred within a few weeks of each other only a month after you’d been released weren’t nearly as bad. You knew you wouldn’t die, or be seriously injured for that matter, but all you could think about in those moments was the release from the headaches that plagued you. Alas, you were still here, and your head hurt worse than ever.

“Were that the cars that rushed into the smoke? Did they got lost while driving? How they caught fire so fast? Did everyone survive?” I thought at that moment. Tried to find the answer but too afraid to ask them.

Whenever I see a car wreck, I recall my wreck several years ago that could have very easily cost me my life. Living through that experience has helped me to value every day more than before and may also be the reason I always feel the need to stop and help those on the roadside. Years later I can see that my family's car wreck was a unique event in my life that changed my perception of life.

As you have been informed, I represent Martin Diaz in connection with the injuries he sustained due to an automobile collision that occurred on January 4, 2016.

Running across a busy city street is never a good idea as this situation can only lead to car accidents in which the pedestrian will always be the loser. This risky maneuver becomes even more dangerous when you try to do so at 2:30 in the morning, as one Houston man found out earlier this month. The man in question was attempting to bolt across Beechnut where it intersects with Wednesbury in southwest Houston.

I agree, the first situation in your post would be the best solution. Almost, 10 years ago my husband was driving our car from the Naples Grape Festival. The roads from Canandaigua to Naples has blind spots on the hills. My mom just purchased that car for us through an auction, so I had just put the basic insurance on it. I didn’t have the Comprehensive. Anyways, there were 4 cars stop at the bottom of a hill, the first car waiting to turn left. We drove up the hill and by the time my husband could see down the hill, he slammed into the last car in the line. It was a nightmare. Even though we both had insurance, our car wasn’t covered in the accident. It was an $8,000 lesson I learned that day. I was just thankful no one in either car was badly

My supervisor, one of the head nurses, hurriedly pulled me to the corner of the bleach white hospital room and directed me to put on gloves, an eye mask, and a face mask. I felt as if I was preparing for war as I put on all of the required gear. The sound of expensive shoes click-clacked down the hallway indicating the arrival of two doctors who rushed into the room and shouted out orders to the staff while pulling the doors to the room shut along with the curtains. Two doctors, eight nurses, an intern, and a dying patient squeezed into the already claustrophobic ten by fifteen-foot room. The machine monitoring the patient’s vital signs continued to beep incessantly as my heart rate accelerated. Throughout my internship, I had never seen a patient in critical condition until that moment. I remembered my teacher’s advice if we were ever in a situation such as this: take a few deep breaths and sit down if you feel like you’re going to pass out. In that

I felt helpless sitting there in a hospital bed without knowing what was going on, why were all the nurses taking care of me? Why