Without Imagination

Fear seems to exist only in our imagination. Without imagination, without the ability to see our place in the future, to work out the consequence of a particular event in all its gruesome detail, we would be quite fearless. I suppose this is why serious violent accidents, such as car crashes, avalanches, and long bouncing falls are frequently described as not frightening while actually taking place. It's as if so much is happening to you, so much information is rushing into your mind that you have no time to imagine what the outcome might be.
~ from The Game of Ghosts by Joe Simpson ~

As I was reading Simpson's ruminations on a serious car crash he was involved in, it harkened me back to a similar sort of accident in 1990 that involved my wife and I. We crashed into a culvert at around 60 mph. Since I was wearing my seat belt, I came away relatively unscathed. My wife was not so fortunate. She had taken off her seat belt which, in part, resulted in a broken leg in 3 places. She still has a rod in her leg to this day!

The perspectives that day were quite different between the two of us. Since I was behind the wheel -- though the accident wasn't my fault -- I was busy trying to right the skidding car and fear never entered the equation. Amazingly enough, I wasn't excited or frantic. I calmly did the best I could to keep the car from flipping or hitting another vehicle head on.

My wife was frantic. I certainly don't blame her for her reaction since she was being bounced around without a modicum of any control. If our roles were reversed, I'm confident I would have been shrieking louder than she was!

Once we impacted the culvert, our forward movement stopped abruptly. This sudden lack of movement completely discombobulated me. For a few moments, I couldn't figure out where I was or how I got there. Reality slowly seeped into my noggin as I became aware that this wasn't some nasty dream.

My wife was writhing in pain. I climbed out of our car and noticed several vehicles had stopped to render aid. "Are you alight?" a man asked me. "I think so," was my response. I indicated my wife was injured and this kind soul immediately shouted at his friend to go down the road to call for an ambulance.

Like Simpson tells it in his book, it wasn't until a few minutes after the accident that my ability to imagine returned. It was at the point that I became fearful and anxious. As I sat under a big oak tree sipping water next to our car, I could feel my entire body start shaking. In a matter of a few seconds, it became uncontrollable.

As the ambulance arrived, I tried to get up and fell down on shaky legs. This convinced the EMTs that I too was seriously injured. They strapped me to a gurney as they worked to extricate my wife from the wreckage. I kept telling them that I was physically okay, but they paid me no heed. My wife and I then "enjoyed" a ride together to the nearest hospital.

It turns out that I was right. After undergoing x-rays, a blood test and several physical exams of various types, I was given a clean bill of health*. While my body was okay, my mind was anything but. It took me several days to calm down, though I had no nightmares about the accident. I just felt overly nervous and shaky.

So, I agree with Simpson's assessment. During the accident itself, I didn't have time to imagine anything as I was trying to process an overload of streaming information. With no ability to imagine the consequences of what was taking place, I had nothing to fear. It was only after the stream of information slowed to a trickle that my ability to imagine returned and, with it, those pangs of fear and anxiety.

There is a lesson here. One that I will ponder for some time.

*Note: This statement is not entirely accurate. X-rays showed I had a small compression fracture in my back. However, as I told the medical personnel, I did not believe this was the result of the accident. I had hurt my back chopping and hauling wood for my grandpa the previous week.