It is strange that something that gets you very upset cause it ruins the day ends up what you call a blessing later. 

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Just Lucky I Guess

This happened Saturday Sept 30th, 2006.  I had just finished my four days off from driving.  I was a truck driver at the time.  I would go out on the road for anywhere from 3 to 5 weeks at a time and then come home for a four day break. 

I had already called the automated phone number to see if I had a load.  I got a yes.  But the automated call was not set up to give information about the load.  I figured that when I got back to the terminal, I could turn on the truck and the load info would be waiting for me on the satellite communication system that my company had in all their trucks.  When I got into the truck, I found that nothing would turn on.  Nor would the truck start.  It didn’t do anything when I tried.  Could not turn on lights, or satellite communication, radio or engine. 

I then went to the maintenance desk and wrote up the problem I was having.  This was at noon and all the bays were filled up, so I knew it was going to be awhile.  Got on the phone and called my dispatcher.  Told him the problem and asked about this load.  The load was already sitting on the terminal yard and did not have to be delivered until noon on Monday, just 501 miles away.  A very easy run, since I could drive 600 miles a day with no problem and have more than a day to get there.  I then hoped that they would get to my truck quickly.  That did not happen.  They didn’t tow my truck into the pay until after 4pm.  If the truck didn’t have a problem, I would have driven at least 200 miles that day to a town in Tennessee.  The girlfriend I had at that time, had a job that put her in a different city each month and at that time she was on the route I would have taken for this load. 

It was 6pm when the truck came out of the shop.  All four batteries were bone dead because of some relay switch had gone back in the alternator.  They replace the batteries and the alternator.  I was rather perturbed over this.  I really would have liked seeing that girl that night.  Since it was so late that I got my stuff back in the truck, I just stayed there at the terminal and slept in the truck.  Those big rigs have a bed, cabinets and a place for a TV.  I watched a movie and went to bed at 10pm. 

When I went to bed, the only clue I had of what was going to happen was a little itch on the left side of my tongue.  At 11:30pm I woke up.  My tongue was now all swollen on the left side and I could feel the swelling starting to go down into my throat.  I knew I was in trouble.  I got dressed and packed my overnight bag.  I could tell that I could not talk, so using my cell phone was out of the question.  I got out my notepad and wrote a note.  I also wrote down all the medicines I was on at that time.  I used to work as an orderly at a hospital and I knew what kind of questions I would be asked at the hospital.  So I wrote down info about me and my mothers phone number. 

I walked over to the guard shack and went in.  All I could do was a garbled loud mumble.  The guard just looked at me and I could tell that he thought I was drunk or something.  So I held up the note pad and slapped it and then held it out for him to read.  He almost didn’t get up, but he finally reluctantly did.  I still like the look on his face when he read my note which read something like “My tongue is swollen, call and ambulance!”  It was like he suddenly could not move fast enough.  I think he panicked.  I learned to stay calm in bad situations while working as an orderly.  So this was amusing to me.  He called 911 and told them of my problem and then told me that it was on its way. 

What I didn’t know was that the nearest hospital was at the very next exit.  Pretty much less than five miles away.  If I had known that, I would have gotten in my truck and driven there.  The ambulance arrived within five minutes and I climbed in.  They had me over there in no time and of course they asked a lot of questions and I did my best to answer them with my notepad.  That was kinda hard since they had an IV in my arm and a blood pressure cuff on the other arm and they had this clip on one of my fingers.  Plus they were putting little stickem pads all over me so they could hoop up and EKG.  We arrived at the ER around 12:15am Sunday morning.  Within minutes of my arrival I was passed out from lack of oxygen.  While I was out they called my mother and she got there around 2am.  She didn’t recognize me when she saw me.  My face was all swollen up on one side.  To save my life they had to cut a trache in my throat and put an oxygen tube in. 

They did not take me out of the ER until after 5 pm.  I was just waking up as they brought me into the ICU.  I was rather out of it.  I remember everyone being there, but I don’t remember seeing.  It was like I could not open my eyes.  I also remember I could not talk and I had to write on paper anything I wanted to say.  I still think it strange that I could open my eyes to write, but could not do so to look at anything else.

I was in ICU for eight days on a ventilator.  Having a trache in my throat was not a problem, but not being about to talk was torture.  I had been a truck driver for nine years and all truckers love to talk and tell stories.  My son’s took advantage of this.  On the day they took me out of the ICU, they removed the tube and put a trache thingy in.  I then found, that I could talk some when I put a finger over the hole.  Then they moved me to a regular room where I had a room mate that hogged the TV.   On the last day I was in they took out the trache and sowed me up.  I was so glad to be rid of that thing.  It took about five days for the hole to completely seal up and heal.  I now have a scar where they cut me. 

They found that I had an allurgic reaction to a medicine that I had been on for 6 years.  This med was well known for taking that long before you found out that you were allergic.  So I am no longer on Lisinopril and cannot take any med that ends with “pril.” 

The bad part is that I lost more than half of my upper singing voice.  I grew up going to church and my dad was always having me be the song leader.  I could hit all the highest notes and then go right down with the lowest base.  Can’t do that anymore.  I also can’t yell without losing my voice. 

They also found that I had Sleep Apnea and now I have to sleep with a machine.  I’m having a love/hate relationship with that thing.

So when I tell this story now, I am thankful that the truck would not start.

More of my Writing:

*  Why Do You Take the Pill?
*  Big Tornado
*  Cheap Car