Most of my drive to school is uneventful. If I have an 8am class, I don't go much above 55mph on the 2-lane stretch of Hwy 55 (Courthouse Blvd), because there are 2 cops that cross paths routinely between 7:30 and 7:45. I'm going to get seen by one of them. When it turns into a freeway, I immediately get to the left-hand lane to avoid the feeling that I'm about to get smashed by the truckers entering the freeway from 117th Street. You'd never know I drive a full-size van. Then it is a straight shot to school. All I have to do is turn down Northland Drive and cross Pilot Knob Rd. The traffic on Pilot Knob is controlled by a stoplight a little farther south, though, where there is an exit to 494. So, if you want to cross this 4-lane highway at Northland Dr, then you need to find a break in traffic and blast across or sit in the center waiting for the break from the next direction to get the rest of the way across. I hate intersections like that and what I saw today is why:

I have my usual uneventful drive until I get to the Northland/Pilot Knob intersection. As I get closer, I notice the object of my fear: a car crash and a cop directing traffic to go around the 2 cars and ambulance sitting in the median. One car isn't so bad and has pulled up on to the median on its own. The other car is pretty smashed up and is sitting up on the curb in the break in the median for turn lanes. I'd usually just shake my head and thank God it wasn't me. But usually what you see is just a couple of people exchanging insurance information and waiting for the police officer's accident report. I wasn't sure where the driver of the less-smashed car was, but that car wasn't dented enough to be concerned. To get to school, I had to go around the cop who was parked in front of the smashed car, protecting it as he directed people around and tried to help other emergency workers at the same time. I was nervous because I couldn't see around the cop that well and wanted to give him as much space as possible, like I was taught. That feeling was trumped by the incredible sadness at the scene that my eyes could not avoid: they had draped white plastic over the driver's window so no one could see the scene inside. I had the horrible feeling that the driver had died since nobody seemed to be scrambling. I cried. I don't know why, other than I was tired and it really affected me. The thought ran through my head that I was glad I wasn't studying emergency medicine because I'm not sure I'm ready to deal with what I thought I saw in front of me. While waiting for a string of cars to pass, I watched the cop and stared at the window. I saw an arm move and looked more closely. In the back seat was an emergency worker in a very uncomfortable position with his hands near the head rest. I realized that he was attempting to put a cervical collar on the driver's neck. I was relieved, though this made me cry too. I finally saw enough of a break in the traffic that I decided to go. I sent up a prayer for the injured person and the safety of the brave people trying to help him, while the scene stayed in my mind all through my first class.

I don't know why it affected me like that, other than the fact that a scene like that is exactly why I look both ways twice and race across that road to the safety of the other side. I guess I have a healthy awareness of the possible results of my dash across a relatively busy road.