They got the lion's share of the credit, though, I think because one of their husbands worked for the local paper.Īs soon as I got out of the hospital, I started making appearances in local and state news shows. While the off-duty EMT and nurse definitely contributed to saving me, they weren't the ones who pulled me away from the train and stopped me from bleeding to death. Next, my friend the medic got painted as being the "bad influence" who pushed me to jump, rather than the guy who tried to get me to stop and saved my ass (on up). A lot of people in articles' comment sections told me that I should just die, or that I deserved to die, because I'm obviously the first 17 year old in history to make a dumb decision.Įventually, you realize that "I HATE YOU! DIE DIE DIE!" is just Internet for "Hello." The initial weeks after the accident also gave me a real harsh lesson in Internet. The audio from my 911 call was posted for the whole Internet to hear, and the story was national news before anyone who was actually present ever had a chance to give his or her side of the story.Īs a result, the initial reports stated that drugs and alcohol had been involved - because that's way more newsworthy than "sleep-deprived teen makes poor choice." I was described as a juvenile delinquent (these days, that has sort of turned into a running joke between my friends and family - any minor mistake I make gets jokingly blamed on drugs, alcohol, and my rock-n-roll lifestyle). While I was still in the intensive care unit, there were media at my former high school in Utah, interviewing old classmates of mine. "Attractive young college student in terrible accident" is a catchy-enough headline that the local news jumped right into it. Life tip: If you're ever in a horrifying accident, try to be with an army medic.
Without him, I 1,000 percent would have died. But, he pulled me away after I lost my legs, and, within thirty seconds, he had tourniqueted my legs with a pair of sterile cravats he had brought with him, just in case.
I couldn't hear him because, y'know, train. He was running behind me at the time, waiting to make sure I made it, and I actually found out later he had anticipated the disaster and started screaming at me to stop. You have some major arteries running through those legs - wouldn't you bleed out in seconds? Well, I'm only alive and writing this article because, out of all the bad decisions I made that day, I also made the great decision to go train-hopping with a former army medic. Right now, you're probably thinking that severing two legs via train isn't the sort of misadventure anyone could survive. I would hate for there to be some moment of horror I forget."
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