In my seatbelt, with a fractured back in three places, broken ribs, broken ankle right though, fractured pelvis, and a torn diaphragm with my stomach relocated into my lung cavity, I unbuckled, crawled out what looked like a ball of tinfoil, up a dirt embankment to the road and flagged down a car to save my sorry life.

All I remember of that was my foot didn't work properly so I could only crawl and then stand on my knees with arms in the air as twin cones of light approached in the dead of a cold oct night.

So yeah car accident, big deal, crawled out because I could.

The real challenge was getting back together and learning to walk again at the hospital but I wasn't paralyzed or anything and was placed back together nicely by a bunch of surgeries.

Taking that first step with the help of a walker (wearing a cast on my ankle and halo bolted into my skull) -- several weeks later at the hospital was like walking on Jupiter. They had me take two steps at first and that was it. It broke a sweat and got my heart jackhammering. A day or so later, I used that walked to get my sorry body into that bathroom to take a rightful shit and to wipe my own ass. It was glorious.