Worst. Valentine’s. Day. Ever! (My Second Ambulance Ride)

First of all, let me say that I KNOW it could have been worse – MUCH worse. Someone could have been killed or seriously injured. Second, let me say that I understand that Americans have a reputation for being careless, impatient drivers in Japan and for causing accidents. Third, most Japanese drivers are extremely professional, patient, and considerate. But on Valentine’s Day 2012, I (probably THE most cautious American driver in all of Japan) was hit by an impatient and probably speeding Japanese truck driver.

This is my blog (well, ours) – so this is my version and you already know I love detail – so forgive me in advance & thank you for your patience. One thing I have learned from living in Japan is PATIENCE!

Plastic over the missing window to keep out the rain.


Right below the driver's door is the gas tank. Yep.


Driver's side window is completely broken out; glass everywhere.

It was about noon and I was driving to the large Vesta Supermarket off Hwy 188 for my regular weekly grocery shopping trip. I am very familiar with this area since I’ve been shopping here with friends for most of our nearly 8 years in Iwakuni. As I was easing ahead waiting for cars in front of me to enter parking lots to our left and right, I just began my right-hand turn (remember I’m driving on the left side of the road in the right-side driver’s seat) when I was suddenly hit or sideswiped. I never saw it coming either in my mirror, or over my shoulder before I began my turn (I’m always watching for bicycles), and I knew my right blinker was on (I heard it clicking), so I have to assume the driver was speeding and swerved around me from behind.

I had no idea what was happening, but the impact was extremely loud and forceful. I felt my shoulder harness grab me. I remember trying to steer and stop my car, but I could not. I was aware of a wall of corrugated silver covering my side window and the scraping noise was horrible, as all the window glass cascaded over me. My car seemed to be sliding forward – out of control. My right foot was slammed down on the brake, but I could not slow my car, and my hands were gripping the steering wheel. I’m pretty sure I was screaming. At last, my car slowed enough for me to jam my transmission into Park and my car ended up straight ahead on the road I was going to turn off of - close to the fence on the left side of the street. I remember thinking it was a miracle that I hadn’t hit a pedestrian or bicyclist! I thought perhaps someone had gone out of control at a high rate of speed, and I had been rear-ended and pushed forward, and perhaps my brakes had failed, which is why I could not stop. Then I saw a silver truck pull in front of me and stop in the road directly ahead of me. I assumed this was the truck who hit me. (I later found out that the truck was dragging my little car once he hit me, which is why I could not stop.)

I was aware that my hands, head and chest hurt and I was gasping for air, crying, and shaking uncontrollably. I was also covered with window glass and saw blood running down my left arm. I don’t know how much time elapsed, but finally a man came over and said to me “gomenasai” (sorry) – and he was talking on a cell phone. I assumed he was the truck driver who had hit me. I was still trying to get my breath and figure out how hurt I was and what happened. I kept feeling the back and side of my head to see if it was bleeding, but I could not find any. The man continued to walk around and talk on his cell.

A few more minutes passed (no one else came over) and I still did not hear any sirens, so when the man again came close, I asked him to please call for an ambulance, because I do not have a cell phone and I was really afraid I might be having a heart attack. I could not get myself to breathe regularly, although I was trying to practice deep-breathing exercises to calm down. I was still shaking violently and starting to feel nauseated. He then brought me some tissue to place on my cut arm, and placed his coat over me, which I really appreciated (although it smelled strongly of cigarette smoke). It was a cold, drizzly day and rain was now coming in my broken-out side window.

Finally I heard sirens and soon I was being helped onto a stretcher - I could not unfasten my seat belt or stand on my own. I remember it was raining on me, but it felt good to lie down. Someone asked my name and age, and if I wanted to go to the on-base ER and I said yes. I was asked where my car should be towed, and I replied that I’d never had an accident, so I did not know. I picked up my purse before they pulled me out because I knew I would need my ID cards. The paramedics took my vitals, attached a BP cuff and finger monitor, and cervical collar and asked if I had any history of serious illness. Of course there’s always a language barrier. I was transported to the on-base clinic ER, where I was evaluated, my hand wound was cleaned, glass removed (no stitches), and I was released after several hours, when my elevated BP finally returned to normal. While there, I was briefly interviewed by the US military police and (I think) the Japanese police; everyone was very kind and professional. Stan was brought to see me from school. I was told I would need to undergo a longer, more intensive interrogation with the accident investigation team soon, and I offered to do so the next day while it was still fresh in my mind. When I got home, all I wanted to do was crawl into bed, but first I had to shower to get all the glass off of me and out of my hair.

The next afternoon, Stan took off school to meet me for the interview and we were there most of the afternoon. Our local PMO (military police) indicated that I was not at all at fault. I have been agonizing over how this could have happened – WHY was the truck driver passing me on the wrong side of the road in such a congested area – with pedestrians and bicycles all around? And why didn’t I see him? Where did he come from?

For the first 3 or 4 days, I was exhausted and would unexpectedly cry. I did not sleep well, and was haunted by the sound and fury of the crash, both while sleeping and waking, and was easily startled by loud, sudden noises. I rested the remainder of the week and over the weekend.

Meanwhile, we received several calls from the truck driver’s insurance company - anxious for me to file my claim with our insurance company, so the matter could be settled. Stan told them I would file our claim as soon as possible, but I had simply not felt well enough to do so yet.

On the following Monday, we gathered our paperwork, photos I had taken of our damaged car and biked off-base to our insurance company to file a claim. I found out that the truck driver had told a different story than mine – actually two different stories! On the day of the wreck, he said there was a car behind me whose blinker was indicating a left turn (along with the two cars in front of me), so he “assumed” I was also going to turn left. In my memory, there was no one behind me at all, which is why I was so surprised when I was hit. I think if there had been a car there, it would have been involved in the crash. Then a few days later, he said he actually saw my LEFT blinker flashing when he decided to pass and I turned into and hit his truck. Fortunately, the accident investigators had told us that when they examined my RIGHT blinker bulb, it proved that it had been lit and blinking at the moment of impact. So, Stan requested a copy of this report and took it to our local insurance agent.

Next, we had to obtain an estimate of repairs for our car, so Stan went to see if the car was drivable. Our car had been towed on-base to our auto hobby shop (no collision repairs) so he taped the headlight onto the front of the car, brushed the glass out of the seat, and drove the car outside the gate to a nearby recommended shop for a damage estimate. Turns out, it’s over $4,000 USD for repairs – more than our car is worth (it’s a 1997 model) – so unless the other driver is found at fault and pays for our repairs, we have driven our beloved little blue box for the last time.

From our agent, I have also found out that the truck driver has now asked for me to be determined at fault (for turning right in front of him when I was blinking left) and for US to pay repairs for HIS work truck! Of course, I feel that HE was speeding, careless, and caused the accident. Our agent has advised us that there can be no settlement until both sides agree on what happened or the police determine fault from their investigation. In Japan, there’s rarely such thing as one driver being 100% at fault; fault is usually divided. As far as I can find out, there were no witnesses interviewed at the scene although there were many around, nor has anyone mentioned a street camera that might have recorded what happened. My agent told me that if we can reach no agreement, we either go to court to ask for a judge’s decision, or we will each pay for our own repairs. This is very frustrating for me, but laws are different in Japan, and it is now out of our hands. I think it takes several weeks for a decision to be made. So we wait.

It’s been over a week now since the wreck, and I’m not as sore as I was - bruises are fading, cut is healing, and my strength is coming back. On Tuesday 2/21, I returned to the pool for my morning water aerobics therapy for the first time since 2/14, and it felt good to be back in the heated pool, moving my sore muscles and deep-breathing . . . I can still close my eyes and see (and hear!) it all clearly. Although I was a mess after the crash, I am very clear about who was on the road around me in all directions - exactly where they were, and everything I saw and experienced before and during the crash. I have relived it many times since 2/14.

I know the truck driver certainly did not intend to cause a wreck, but I wish he would just admit that he was in a hurry and made a careless mistake. If I had, I would. Honest. This is our year for a probable transfer from Japan, and I don’t want this to be my last memory – we’ve had such wonderful adventures here and love Japan so! A couple of days after the wreck, I was talking with my friend Junko-san and she said, in a typical Buddhist perspective, “Maybe because the speeding truck hit your car, it saved some pedestrians or bicyclists from being injured or even killed.” I like this, and it makes me feel better, so maybe it IS all worthwhile . . .

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