How to survive a car accident: the story of Semmy Djabrail

My name is Semmy, I’m from Peter. I have my Instagram account, but I don’t consider myself a blogger. I write notes, someone calls them stories. I do this purely on a whim and would hardly want to commercialize my work.

Semmy Jabrail Author: © instagram.com/semmi_djabrail/

2017 was almost entirely about plans and preparations for moving to the States and treating my dog. In 2018, I already planned to be there. Why States? Because if I choose between Europe and America, and I have never been drawn to the East, America is more in line with my ideas about the breadth of possibilities for realizing the ambitions of a young man. And to Europe – for a prosperous and calm old age.

A week before the car accident, my friend and I went to Vyborg, a city near St. Petersburg. Had a great time and came back. The dog and I were even allowed to go to the cinema. The days were fine, and we decided to go to a rope town in the same area. It started to rain, we rounded out and drove off. I cannot answer exactly what caused the accident, but it was night, it was raining and it was foggy, and this probably contributed to the fact that Stas lost control. I remember how he shouted “Hold on!”, And immediately after that – a sharp blow.

I don’t know how long after I woke up. People have already gathered around. They treated me very kindly and asked me to stay conscious. Everything blurred before my eyes. I said that I could not move, only with my hand I felt my dog, which I squeezed in my hands during the blow. While I was lying, I shared with the people who found us all the “passwords and accounts” so that they could get in touch with my loved ones. One of them is called Sergei, he is a truck driver. He said that he saw a rushing white lump at the edge of the road and stopped. So my dog ​​is my hero.

I knew right away that my leg had been torn off, and that I was losing blood, and indeed that I was dying, I clearly understood. I remember this feeling; life seemed to flow out of me, I became less and less, as if falling into some endless abyss. Unusual feelings. I already experienced clinical death in 2016, but that time I got off with a slight fright, and this incident made me nervous. I know that I was in a coma for six days, during which time my relatives attacked the phones of the Vyborg hospital, and then, when I was taken by helicopter to a hospital in St. Petersburg, she too. While I was at the mercy of morphine and ketamine, it turns out that my dream came true – a helicopter flight, and from this I only remember the rocky cliffs, the chase and terrible tortures perpetrated on my body by some sectarians.

The first thing I did when I woke up was to persistently convince the medical staff that I had been kidnapped and tortured. When I was informed that six days had passed, I was dumbfounded, as I felt it was less than three hours. I sincerely hoped to find a leg sewn under the sheet, as I well remembered everything that had happened. There were no guarantees that I would wake up, so the doctors’ forecasts were not the most optimistic. Even excluding the amputation of my leg, my body was all broken. I reminded myself of an anatomical exhibit. I already wrote: “Phantom (not to be confused with phantom pain), do you know how I feel it? As part of my astral body. Like a piece of the soul. Like a bare wire. My leg is not only in the physical representation, but in the world of sensations, and they are our whole life, she is also alive. My young, full of strength, strong and responsive leg. It’s just a pity that I won’t cling to her anymore. ” Something like that. This was perhaps the most difficult to accept.

You know, I was definitely lucky. From childhood it seemed that all friendship must be earned. I still don’t understand how I gathered around me so many “tuned” people. Cool people. The reactions of loved ones were in every way beyond what I could have expected. People I know reacted differently. This situation has become not only indicative from the point of view of the strength and reliability of relationships, but in general some kind of internal marker of not the best human qualities.

It seems to me that the tragedy of such situations by people who have not experienced anything like it is too exaggerated. Even before the accident, I knew that this happened, I saw how people steadfastly endure life breakdowns. For me personally, the struggle was to overcome pain. With everything else, it somehow came out easier. The support of my loved ones played an important role in my mental rehabilitation.

I lost part of my body, and with it a share of my female attractiveness, but this did not affect my habits. As before, it gives me pleasure to look well-groomed.

As far as values ​​are concerned, I reconsidered my views on friendship. People around me intuitively turned out to be near, I did not have to ask anyone for anything. This is, of course, amazing.

Before me, my Instagram was something like an interactive diary, so I used to share my view of the world quite openly and before, and after the accident I just continued to do the same. And it turned out that the way I cope has become a source of inspiration and vitality for many to overcome their own hardships.

Ahead of the doctors’ forecasts, I recovered fairly quickly. My first achievement was simply to roll over on a barrel without assistance, and after five months I was already walking around the house – although still on a walker, but not for long. In the near future, I plan to learn how to walk on a prosthesis, thanks to it, I will try to shift the vector of perception of people with disabilities, who are still awkward or scary for people to look at. And participation in one important project will help me in this. In a nutshell, this is a design and technical upgrade of cyberpunk-style prostheses. It is likely that in the near future, our technocratic society will legalize, and maybe even introduce the image of a high-tech person, some parts of whose body are cybernetically modified.

Now I lead a rather calm lifestyle, periodically attending concerts, exhibitions and other cultural and entertainment events. A month after what happened, I went to my friend’s concert, and this was really a feat for me, since I was in severe pain and it was difficult for me to be in one position for more than an hour, but I was still very happy that I got out.

I will sum up that for happiness you really need not so much, it is a pity that most often this realization comes through deprivation, and not through acquisition. But it is also a worthy experience. And sometimes it is even salvation, despite such a high price.

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