I almost died at 16: Here's what I learned

On Friday, August 13, 2001 my unsuspecting mother received news that rocked her world.

Police officers knocked on the door of my childhood home at 12:38 a.m. This is the exact time of day I first entered the world according to my birth certificate. My mom would later tell me when she looked at the clock on her nightstand the hair on her arms stood on end and she immediately knew something was terribly wrong.

The police informed my mother that her 16-year-old daughter had been in a serious car accident and was being airlifted to the emergency room. Unfortunately they told my mom the wrong hospital, and she wound up traveling to three different emergency rooms in two different cities before she found me at the Burn Unit in Washington D.C. The panic set in quickly and she feared the worst as she realized how long it was taking her to reach me.

Just a few hours earlier I, the proud owner of a freshly-minted drivers license, had been driving with a friend on a windy back road about 5 miles away from my home. I was passionately explaining to my friend why a particular Limp Bizkit song was my new favorite “I’m mad at the world” anthem. I took my eyes off the road long enough to reach for the CD in the front pocket of my beloved teal colored CD booklet. By the time I looked up, the road had taken a sharp turn. I did not have time to correct course.

To this day, I still have little to no memory of that night or large chunks of time before and afterwards. My friend riding in the car with me would later tell me that I screamed as the car slammed headfirst into a utility pole.

Two of our other friends were driving in a car behind us and they would later share the terrifying scene that unfolded before them. Sparks flew as the 30 foot pole snapped in half, downed wires whipped through the air above the car, and the ground crackled beneath their feet.

I was knocked unconscious on impact. When my friend stepped out of the passenger side door of my car his body acted as a conductor for the electricity. His body shot through the air landing in a field over 20 feet from the car.

An estimated 13,000 volts of electricity then ripped through the car, out of the speaker in the driver side door, and directly into my left calf and out the big toe of my left foot. I still have the scars to this day.

The EMS arrived and I was immediately airlifted to the Washington D.C. Burn Unit via medevac where I was treated for 1st, 2nd and 3rd degree burns on my left calf and along my arm where the wires had landed on me. The sound of helicopter blades, or even fan blades going at a high speed, would set my nervous system on edge for years.

If you have ever experienced a burn, you know they are painful. Third degree burns are excruciating. The third degree burn formed a perfect hole in my leg where the electricity had entered, the skin melted away, and my muscles and tendons disintegrated. All the nerve endings along the side of my left calf were destroyed. I still have no sensation on that part of my leg.

I would go on to have several surgeries, including a skin graft where they took a 4 inch square of my left butt cheek and fused it with shark cartilage to cover the gaping hole in my leg. It took me months to feel comfortable getting in a car again, let alone driving.

Last year my mom wrote a blog post for HER Health Collective sharing her memories of that terrible night. I had never actually heard her version of that night’s events. It gave me a whole new perspective and makes clear the ripples that one event and one person can have on so many lives. Now that I am a mom, I recognize what a terrifying experience this must have been for her, particularly as a single mom navigating the medical system, bills, surgeries, therapy, and my recovery all on her own.

Thankfully, my friend and I were both ultimately fine.

They told me I was lucky. I was lucky the electricity traveled down my leg instead of up toward my heart. I was lucky I was wearing the sandals I had been wearing. I was lucky I had friends driving in a car behind us that could call for help so quickly.

I was lucky for so many other reasons though. This was a defining moment that shifted my perspective about life.

As a teenager that battled depression and often found myself questioning the point of life, I had the abrupt realization that life was beautiful and miraculous. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live my life to the fullest.

I learned that our time here in this world is short and can be taken from us in an instant. Tomorrow is never guaranteed. This day, this moment, this IS it. This is our one precious life.

Bad things are an unfortunate but inevitable part of life. Loved ones will hurt us. We will experience disappointment, loss, grief, heartache, and despair At some point we will feel that the rug has been ripped out from under us.

I will never say bad things happen for a reason. I don’t believe that to be true. But I do know when we are in pain, we grow. When we experience hurt, we learn who we are.

Despite the pain, or perhaps because of the pain, I could all of a sudden see the beauty around me. It was the small things that took my breath away. A smile, a touch, the leaves glistening in the sun, a child’s laughter, a deep conversation with a loved one.

I learned to appreciate the small things. I learned to be present and look for the good that surrounded me in any given moment. It’s always there if you open your eyes to it.

Those are pretty powerful lessons for a 16-year-old and they changed the trajectory of my life.

Right now, our society is living through a uniquely challenging season of life so I encourage you to regularly take the time to pause. Look around you and notice what and who you have in front of you in this moment. Stop giving up your peace for relationships that aren’t right for you and cherish the people in your life who truly matter. Stop living in the past, it does not serve you. Celebrate the small victories and find ways to let your worries for the future subside. Tomorrow will happen regardless of how much time you’ve spent worrying about it, and none of that worrying will actually change any of life’s outcomes.

The only moment you truly have is the one you are living right now.

Crissy Fishbane is the co-founder of HER Health Collective, a supportive community and resource hub for moms. She is a certified therapeutic exercise specialist, personal trainer, wellness coach, and former high-school psychology teacher. Crissy believes in a holistic approach to women’s health and is a strong advocate of improved screening and treatment of perinatal mood disorders. She is passionate about building a supportive community for moms where they can make genuine connections and build authentic relationships. Crissy is a regular Go Ask Mom contributor.