I thoughtI’d
neverlivea
normallife
again,felt
powerless
andsadCRUSHED
AL
But
I’m
reachinfor
the topLaurenpine,51,
refused
toletherdevastating
accidentruinher
life
P
ushingmybike
alongthedarkened
pavement,I glanced
downat mywatch.
It wasalmost
10pmona November
nightin2017.I’dbeenwithmy
friendat herapartment.
Shewasbattlingpancreatic
cancer,andtheprognosis
wasterminal.
Asa nurse,I’dcomforted
a lotof patientsinsimilar
situations,butbeingtherefor
herwasparticularlypoignant.
Although,emotionally,
I wasexhausted,asI stepped
uptothecrossingI looked
bothways.
Thestreetwasdarkbutit
seemedclear.Only,asI stepped
out,I hearda thunderingnoise
tomyleft.
Turningtolook,I saw
thegrillof a lorrycoming
towardsme.
Whathappenednextwas
a confusedblur.
Panic-stricken,I frozeinthe
middleof theroad.
Pleasestop!I thought.
Butsecondslater,I feltmyself
beingsuckedunderneath.AllI
heardwasthecrunchof metal
asmybikedisappearedintothe
Words:darkness.Meanwhile,myleftsarahholmes,riaNeWmaN.PhoTos:laureNPiNe/sWNsSkin grafts
on my
existing legleg felt like it was being crushed.
In an instant, I found myself
being dragged underneath the
truck along the road. I couldn’t
feel or see anything, but the
smell of petrol filled my lungs.
Moments later, I’d stopped
moving but the roar of the
engine above me continued.
My head was whirring
with panic. And then I heard
voices shouting from the
pavement nearby.
Looking across at
the kerb, I realised
I’d been dragged
sideways along the
road, with my left
leg trapped beneath
the truck’s front left
tyre, and right leg
scraping against
the tarmac.
About 10ft away
was the mangled remains of
my bike.
One of my shoes had
been ripped off and was lying
next to my bike. There was
blood everywhere.
‘Help!’ I screamed. ‘Help!’
And then the truck’s engine
roared to life.
‘No, don’t back up!’ I
screamed. But as the tyre rolled
backwards and lifted off myleg, immediately I felt a pain
wash over me unlike anything
I’d experienced before.
Screaming, my mind went
blank, and I must have gone
into shock because the next
thing I knew I was halfway
out from under the truck, and
there was a man kneeling on
the floor next to my head.
‘What’s your name?’ he
asked, and I tried to say
‘Lauren’ but was mumbling.
‘You’re going to be OK,
Lauren,’ he reassured me.
‘An ambulance is on its way.’
When the paramedics
arrived just a few minutes later,
they lifted me carefully on to
a stretcher and wheeled me
into the back of the ambulance.
Where the street
had been empty
before, now there
was a crowd of
bystanders, with
expressions of
fear and shock.
Arriving at
the hospital,
I remember
watching the
strip lighting of the corridors
whoosh overhead as I was
rushed straight to surgery.
My last memory was of the
nurse trying to unscrew my
earrings, and then I drifted
into unconsciousness.
The next thing I recall is
waking up in a hospital room,
with the sounds of machinery
beeping all around me.
I didn’t have a partner orany children, but my
colleague Jacky was sitting
next to me, holding my hand.
‘Lauren, it’s OK, you’re in
Intensive Care,’ she explained.
It took me a while to come
round properly, but I was
aware I had a ventilator in my
mouth and my mind felt foggy
from the painkillers.
Eventually, some nurses
came to remove my ventilator,
as a doctor stood by my side
and explained that I’d been
sedated for four days.
I was at Bellevue Hospital,
here in New York.
Turns out, I’d had three
surgeries in the past four days.
‘I’m so sorry, Lauren,’ the
doctor continued. ‘But we’ve
had to amputate your left leg.’
At first, I don’t think I
fully comprehended what he
was saying.
And then I looked down
at the hospital covers, and
realised how much of the leg
had been amputated – rightALIVE
ing