Fireman re-lives former accident

I was in my late 20s when I made a dumb decision and decided to drive home— alone— after a night of drinking. I was involved in a single-car MVA when I veered of the side of the road and rolled down an embankment.

Somehow, I was ejected from the vehicle yet ALSO landed with my leg trapped in the front door.

It was about 40 degrees outside and, with a body full of alcohol, I passed out and laid there asleep for a few hours.

About 5am law enforcement arrived. Someone saw my vehicle off the side of the road, down that little hill, and reported it. The fire department arrived shortly after that and had to cut me out to free me. They helicoptered me to the nearby hospital.

At that time I had been wondering what I wanted to do with my life. After that, I knew… I wanted to be a first responder.

“I want to help people the same way that team helped me,” I started telling my friends and family.

I quit partying, cut the drinking waayyyyy back, and became a firefighter. I wanted to help others like I had been helped.

Everything was humming along fine— I had been on hundreds of calls (including a few fatalities)— until I went on a call in the middle of the night. I was working a rural area when we responded to a single car MVA.

When we arrived we could easily tell the car had been traveling at a high rate of speed.

•  The transmission was about 100 yards from the actual vehicle.
•  The automobile had rolled a few times.
•  Bits of the car— mirrors and glass and plastic pieces from the bumper— were slung all around the sides of the road.

Quickly assessing the scene, we grabbed our tools and began cutting the passengers out of the vehicle so we could tend to them…

I tell you, all of these scenes (especially at night) are very similar.

•  Flashing red and blue lights
•  Sounds from the radios, distinct vibrating putters of the trucks
•  Smell of crashed car parts and smashed-up engines, hydraulic fluid for the life-saving equipment, diesel from the trucks
•  Textures of our gloves, the gear, and the metal

I was cutting the driver out when I started to hyperventilate and break into sweats.

My body’s reaction made no sense. It was a cold night (about 40 degrees), I had done this several times in the field, and everything was working as it was supposed to.

One of the other firefighters saw the panic on my face and relieved me. He grabbed the saw— one of those unsaid but understood communication things you develop after working with someone for a while.

I moved behind our truck and began removing my gear. I felt like I had a straight-jacket on and started hyper-ventilating…

The following day I sent an appointment. The day after that I was in the counselor’s office.

“It sounds like you had an instance of traumatic recall,” she said.

She pointed out the similarities between my accident and this accident—

•  Same time of day
•  Similar weather
•  Similar tools and life-saving techniques needed
•  Same sights, sounds, smells, and other sensory data

— and it all came together.

“I think your body shifted into the same mode it would have been when you were laying there at your wreck,” she explained.

That actually made sense.

I got some medication— to get ahead of any issues. We adjusted the meds later.

I also continued talking through the experience over a few sessions.

This was several years ago. I haven’t encountered any sort of panic of anxiety since then, even though I’ve been on numerous calls.