My 17-year-old nephew was in a car accident this morning, and the paramedics told him that if he had been two inches taller, he probably wouldn't have survived. He crashed into a semi-truck and the entire roof caved. Apparently he hit the central wheel base of the truck, and if the impact would have been to the right or left even slightly, the top of the car would have been completely cut off. I saw the pictures of the car and it made me feel sick. Apparently the driver of the truck didn't even approach Nick's car because he assumed the worst. Over the years my nephew has struggled with being the kid who's shorter than all his peers. All I can say is that I am thankful beyond words for the two inches that have turned out to be vital to Nick's life.
He is okay. Bruised, scraped, and scared...but thankfully okay. After seeing those photos, I'm honestly not sure how he walked away from a crash like that with only a band-aid and a headache. I know that if I would have seen something like this on the road, I would have assumed the driver of the car probably hadn't survived. I could cry. Thankful does not even come close to my thoughts tonight. Thoughts of how much worse this day could have been send shudders down my spine.
They took him to the hospital, and have done every kind of scan you can imagine to make sure there are no internal injuries. My family is in the process of piling in the car and driving down to Indiana to visit. It's probably not essential that we go there, but we all just want to give Nick a hug and tell him we love him. I am feeling pretty shaken right now, and still pretty upset, but also tremendously thankful that he wasn't seriously hurt.
This was written earlier today. We are back home in MI now, and all seems to be as well as could be expected with Nick. Tonight I am really wishing that he wasn't quite so far away, but it is what it is.
