It was the end of a fun night out in Phnom Penh and I was ready to head home. “Home” at that point was my friend Jess’s apartment in Tuol Tompoung, where I was staying during my one-month trip to Cambodia. My friend, Aldrin, and I agreed to leave together. I’d hitch a ride on the back of his scooter and he’d drop me off at Jess’s place on the way to his own apartment.
We both clipped on our helmets.
Mine was white.
I was wearing a new floral jumpsuit and flip flops. I got on the back of the scooter and shuffled comfortably into place. Aldrin turned on the engine. We started driving. It was 2 am and dark outside. The roads were wide and empty, but I distinctly remember agreeing we should drive slowly. Just in case.
“Is this speed okay?” Aldrin asked me.
“Yes.” I replied. “I feel safe.”
Ironically those were my last words.
Out of nowhere, a red taxi came towards us at full speed. It hurtled forwards so fast we had no chance. Aldrin tried to swerve, but the taxi was impossible to avoid. And then we crashed. A noise I’ve heard over and over in my head since, even though I don’t remember hearing it in real life.
The car hit me directly. My leg was crushed. My face ripped open as I flew through the air and skidded across the street. My front teeth were completely knocked out. I had severe internal injuries and was bleeding profusely. In and out of consciousness I went.
The taxi driver never stopped.
I’ll never know who did it.
What ensued was total chaos and incredibly heroic actions on Aldrin’s part. A security guard had witnessed our accident and rushed over to help. Aldrin was also seriously injured, but his indirect hit meant he was better off than me. My phone was crushed. His phone survived. Thanks to this stroke of luck, Aldrin was able to call all our friends and get a rally of support at the hospital. Something which ended up saving my life.
It was a life-threatening, life-altering accident, beyond Aldrin’s or my control. I’ll tell you the whole story another time, but for this blog post that’s all you need to know.
Over the last 2 years I’ve been recovering from that night, physically and emotionally. Throughout my recovery I’ve learned a lot. That’s not to say the accident was in any way worth it – but it’s given me insight and perspective on what it’s like to survive such a traumatic event.
So, here it goes. Things I’ve learned from surviving a near-fatal road accident:
Joesphine, I’ve been wanting to read this particular post for quite a while now, really hoping that, when the time was right for you, you would start to share your personal story of the accident and recovery. It’s yours, and yours alone to tell. And, here you are. I read your blog post first thing this morning – before reading any news, or anything else. Writing is one of your great strengths: A gift you share with us. I’ve tried very hard to never used one certain word in your recovery, because I do understand that often, regarding the physical aspects of the accident (surgeries, surgical recovery, physio, etc), you’re either having something done to you, or you’re simply doing what needs to be done. But sharing your story – putting so many disparate feelings succinctly into words, well, Josephine, it’s here that I need to use the word Courage. Courage to release your feelings out into the world, and see where and how they land. Your words deserve to land far and wide, and I firmly believe they will. So, Thank You. Thank You for taking us deeper into your story – a story nobody would choose to write, unless, somehow, it became their story. Onwards, Beautiful Girl. I’ll be watching for part two.
Thank you so much, Valerie. I really appreciate everything you wrote.