A Not-So-Quiet Sunday Afternoon

Recalling a sunny October day...

Our plan this past Sunday was to go for a nice hike to continue the week-long celebration of Sydney's 7th birthday, after which we'd stop at a local apple orchard for some treats (cider, cider doughnuts, fresh local jams and jellies, etc.).

The hike was great.  Colin did amazingly well, clambering over giant rocks and up hills and walking most of the way... much more than I expected, although I know he's a pretty tough little guy.  Sydney was properly adored by everyone we passed, and the baby was wonderfully well behaved, either sleeping or quietly looking around.

We left the park, headed to the cider mill nearby, and had some snacks.  Colin devoured a cider hot dog, Hari had cider baked beans, then Hari and I both indulged in cups of hot mulled cider and cider doughnuts.  This is the only time I'll eat doughnuts - once a year I have them, from the Hacklebarney Cider Mill.  And while I'm not a big fan of most sweet treats these things are delicious... especially when served with hot mulled cider.  YUM!

We packed back into the van and headed home.  It is about a 40 minute drive, first down a long two-lane road, then on the interstate, but is a straight shot.  I was checking messages on my phone, Colin was happily playing a game on the iTouch, Sydney was snoozing on the back bench, and the baby was dozing off when...

BANG

After one of the loudest sounds I've possibly heard (or so it seemed at the moment) I looked up and felt like I was in one of those awful driver's ed videos.  The ones where your simualtor car seems to be careening at double-speed and you end up smashing into the back of a semi.  We were half-off the road, flying past a long line of cars at what felt like break-neck speed.

The van finally stopped, and both boys were sobbing hysterically.  And my first reaction was... to jump out of the van, run to the truck behind us, and begin screaming at the other driver.  What is WRONG with you?  Are you a complete m***er-***ing idiot?  I have a 20-week-old infant in that van!  My 2-year-old SON is in there! What the **** is WRONG with you?  Are you psychotic?  WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?  I have an INFANT in that car - you could have KILLED him!!!! I went on in that vein for a while, with some exceedingly creative expletives, and my tirade would likely have continued and possibly become worse but Hari continued to be a hero.  He calmly kept telling me to get back in the van, check on the boys, and call 911.

I finally stopped my rage-induced tirade and went back to the van where both boys were still sobbing hysterically.  I tried to call 911 but kept mis-dialing because my hands were shaking so badly.  After the 5th or 6th try (maybe more) I finally got through.  My voice was shaking nearly as bad as my hands, as I tried to explain to the operator that we had been hit.  She then asked where we were.  Ummm... I had no idea.  I knew the road (heading south on 206) but when she asked me what city, and what the nearest intersection were I hadn't a clue.  I could see a road sign for the next intersection, but it was a long ways away and I couldn't read it, nor could Hari.  Hari thankfully remembered that we were near Peapack Gladstone and I told the operator that, after which she seemed to have an inkling as to where we were.

The operator disconnected, and I attempted to calm the boys.  Meanwhile Hari got out of the fan, mumbled that he thought he might be sick, and walked over and put his head in his arms on the hood of the van.  Poor Sydney was in the back of the van, trembling like a leaf in a hurricane... I've never seen any creature tremble like that, and she clearly wasn't listening to my weak attempts to soothe everyone.

The police showed up and started asking how everyone was.  By then Colin had stopped sobbing and was just quietly scared.  The officer explained that the EMTs were on their way, and that while he was with the Peapack Gladstone police we were actually in Bedminster and those officers were on the way.  The officer asked if the kids had lost consciousness, or if they started crying right away, and I said I thought they were crying immediately.  He asked how I was and I really couldn't answer.  I had so much adrenaline coursing through me still that I basically couldn't feel anything.

I think perhaps the officer then went to talk to Hari, or possibly the other driver.  I just know it was me and the boys for a little while, at which point Colin kept asking "Mommy, what happened to the chairs?"  It was only then that I saw both the headrests on the front seats had.... well... deployed.  They were popped open, and you could see the inside.  I tried to redirect and explain to him that an ambulance with bright flashing lights was coming, and people would want to talk to him, but he really wasn't getting it.

When the EMTs arrived they asked a lot of the same questions as the officers (did anyone lose consciousness, were the kids crying right away, etc.).  One guy went over and started talking to and checking out Colin.  At first the little guy wasn't talking, but the EMT eventually got him calm and was able to give him a quick once over while two ladies examined Ryan.  Both kids were kept in their car seats the whole time, which is apparently a requirement in case there are any injuries.

Meanwhile the officer from Bedminster was making the rounds.  I overheard him saying to Hari "Your dog has a seatbelt?"  Yes, she does.  And thank goodness that not only does she have one, but it is a really good, heavy duty version that hooks to the car seatbelt with a giant D-ring.  It it weren't for that Syd would have become a projectile, would likely have badly injured the baby, and would undoubtedly be dead.  As it was, while poor Sydney was terrified, she didn't seem hurt.

Hari and I made the decision that both boys should take the ambulance to be checked out.  While they seemed pretty normal, the baby is simply much too young for us to make any determination, and he can't tell us later if he isn't feeling well.  And Colin, being a toddler, just doesn't always communicate as well as one might hope.  By that time I could feel some stiffness and discomfort in my neck and upper back, but I declined the offered backboard and neck collar because that would have terrified poor Colin.  Instead we loaded into the back of the ambulance, and away we went.  Colin was strapped in a built-in carseat that was part of the ambulance while Ryan was kept in his carseat which they buckled onto the stretcher.  The officer from Bedminster insisted that we be taken to Robert Wood Johnson, one of the top trauma hospitals, to ensure that the kids had the best possible examination and were checked out as thoroughly as possible.

After a rather long ride, during which I was given an ice pack to put on my aching neck, we finally arrived, and the boys were taken to the pediatric ER.  When we got there they had a seat for Colin, but when I went to put him down I realized... he had completely flooded out of his diaper, and not only were his pants trashed, he had soaked mine as well.  *sigh*  They took both boy's vitals, after which I had a few minutes so I called Hari to ask him how/where he was, and if he could bring new pants for Colin and I. 

Hari eventually showed up (with fresh pants for everyone!), and I decided to decline the offer for an exam as it was late and I just wanted to get the kids home and put the day behind us. The next day I went to our doctor for a checkup, and was told that it looked like nothing was broken so I could just take some Tylenol for any pain (which was likely and to be expected based on the event) and that was about it.

Back to the present day, eight months later and we are STILL dealing with the insurance idiocy (GRRRR!) but I am happy to say that we all seem to have come away without any lasting injuries.  The one thing I will say is that as of that day I no longer hated driving a minivan... at least not entirely.

So here's to you, blocky, ugly, unwieldy minivan.  You look awful, you make me feel dumpy, and I look forward to the day when I drive away from you forever... but you did your job and protected my family and for that I will always be grateful.