Small Steps, Long Journey

By Eric R. Inouye

Small Steps - Long Journey, is an autobiography novel that depicts my struggle to survive a nine-week coma and overcome the dependency of others.

In August 1985, a drunk driver torpedoed through his red light and blasted into my smaller mini truck. Instantly, i fell comatose for nine weeks, but the real story is in my tenacity to overcome obstacles in my life that were not there before.

As an athlete through school, I succumbed to a life far different than the playing field. Faced with difficulties that were taken for granted, suddenly my world became a battlefield just to survive. I take the reader on a voyage into the unknown disabled community, where I candidly express my emotions. The accident left me vulnerable, which allowed my father in close. We were both too stubborn to show weakness and that kept us apart.

My hopes are to share my story and inspire those who are injured everyday, whether it is doctors & nurses or families & friends of those who recewive care. I take the reader on ajourney where hopefully you can find comfort in one persons survival.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 18, 2008
• ISBN: 9781465316486

Eric R. Inouye

Small Steps – Long Journey, is an autobiographical novel that depicts my struggle to survive a nine-week coma and overcome the dependency of others. In August of 1985, a drunk driver torpedoed through his red light and blasted into my smaller mini truck. Instantly I fell comatose for nine weeks, but the real story is in my tenacity to overcome obstacles in my life that were not there before. As an athlete through school, I succumbed to a life far different than the playing field. Faced with difficulties that were taken for granted, suddenly my world became a battlefield just to survive. I take the reader on a voyage into the unknown disabled community, where I candidly express my emotions. The accident left me vulnerable, which allowed my father in close. We were both too stubborn to show weakness and that kept us apart. My hopes are to share my story and inspire those who are injured everyday, whether it is doctors & nurses or families & friends of those who receive care. I want you the reader to find comfort in one person’s survival.

Book preview

SMALL STEPS,

LONG JOURNEY

Eric R. Inouye

Copyright © 2008 by Eric R. Inouye.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

47750

Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 1

The Cycle Begins

August 15, 1985, going through life without

a care in the world. My entire world obliterated

when my worst nightmare became a reality.

Chapter 1—The cycle begins…

Bursting through emergency room doors at the hospital, the paramedics yell to the waiting physicians, He’s not breathing!

In a controlled moment of chaos, the doctors scramble to connect my inanimate body to a respirator. My left lung collapses. Blood gushes from my nearly severed ear, although no one makes a request for an O Positive blood transfusion. After sustaining a brain stem injury, lifesaving decisions are made in an attempt to revive me, but the doctors are unsuccessful and verify my comatose condition.

The next day, August 16th, is my parent’s wedding anniversary. What a gift.

*     *     *

Earlier that morning, my father told me to sand the walls to my house; I want to be able to paint this weekend, he told me.

My friend Don and I work hard in the morning, but the summer heat raises the needle between 98 and 100 degrees. It’s a sweltering heat, and just another typical hot summer day in the San Fernando Valley.

You both worked so hard this morning, can I buy you guys lunch, my mom offers.

No, that’s cool mom-Don and I just polished off a pizza.

I quickly jump in and out of the shower.

Hey Don, my clothes don’t fit you; otherwise, you could shower and borrow something to wear.

No worries, let’s just go to my house, he said.

On the way to Don’s house, I pull into a fast food drive-thru window and are only a few blocks from my front yard.

Speaking into an oversized burger, I plainly say, Yeah, I’d like two large cokes.

Out of the burger a voice screams back at me:

ppssk, oookkkkkktthhhhhhaaaaaaatttttttwwwwwwwasssssstwoburgggggggerssssssssssandttttwoooooolllllarrrggggeecookes. $6.89 aaaaaatttttttttheewiiiiiindow.

Hey Don, did he get our order right?

Who cares, drive around I’m thirsty, Don urges me.

*     *     *

Just a few minutes later we pull up to a red light in front of the high school we attended. Waiting for the light, I rev my engine.

Who do ya think you are? Don asked, not really expecting a reply since he didn’t even look in my direction.

Images of Speed Racer came to mind as I inched my mini-truck up to the red light at the corner of Nordhoff and Haskell Ave. My imagination begins to filter where the signal appeared to be the Christmas tree lights at a raceway. As my little engine red lined on the tachometer, I’m ready to bolt as soon as the light turns green.

Nordhoff had just been freshly paved, so the lanes were still absent. A pungent smell of new asphalt coated the air, and trickled from my skin that’s being painted a golden chestnut by the summer sun, almost like water from a shower.

Green light… from the number one lane-heading north on Haskell my tires spun, burning a little rubber. My small truck swayed to the left, then back right. Also tiny chirp noises came from the rear tires spinning on the asphalt. Youth urged me to be first across the street, although no one else seemed to be racing with me.

Suddenly, a big block of steel on wheels rockets through his red light. As I darted into the intersection, I saw an older model Chevy pick-up truck barreling down on Don and I in all its steel and bulk. Life is full of many unfortunate situations, but in this instant worlds collided.

The other driver’s engine seemed to roar as it crashed into us. The other driver had a blood/alcohol content level of .30 at the time of the accident. More than 3x the legal limit. My vehicle crossed the path of a drunk driver as he sped through his red light well beyond the limit and without reflex or the ability to react.

Followed by the shattering of glass and crushed metal, came silence. Dead silence. Almost as if a vacuum inhaled every background motion and sound into the air. Screeching tires, my horrific yell and the traffic lead up to the most terrifying crescendo.

Assuming the ride would only be a few blocks, my safety belt had not been secured; I got tossed from my seat onto Don’s lap. As luck would have it, the restraints were not fastened which would have trapped and crushed me because the force of the impact smashed in the left side of my vehicle.

Within seconds a Good Samaritan passing by on the street helped Don get me out of my destroyed vehicle, via the rear window that shattered. Together they laid my lifeless body flat. Don sustained a gash to his right arm.

He’s dead! He’s dead! Oh man, look at him, the passerby screamed.

NO! No he’s not… calm down, Don yelled.

Very confidently Don took control and used his skills as a certified Los Angeles City Pool Lifeguard. He tilted my head back and raised my neck in an arched position, which pointed my chin towards the sky. To my rescue, Don performed the precautionary steps I required to breathe, without actually having to resuscitate me. Being in the correct position alone allowed my insides to force and push, which made my whole body convulse.

You had pizza lodged in your airway, Don later told me. The pizza prevented your body its much needed oxygen. Within seconds… you began to spew blood, phlegm and partially digested pizza onto the pavement. You gasped desperately.

Don had done it; he helped me enough so my internal organs could operate on their own. The top half of my left ear had been ripped and torn. It dangled down the left side of my face.

I cradled your ear with my shirt in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding, Don told me later. Only minutes passed, but time stood still until the ambulance arrived.

Along with the silence of dead air, complete darkness surrounded me as I slipped into unconsciousness. Voices restrained, the sounds of traffic stopped around me and the ambulance siren diminished as the paramedics whisked me away towards the hospital.

*     *     *

Family and friends from all over arrived at the hospital when they heard of my misfortune. My mom had people write notes and well wishes in a notebook. The very first entry came from my mom. A mother’s plea hardly transcribes on paper, but this is how it read…

August 17, 1985

Dearest Eric,

Please Wake Up!!

Hi, you’re resting nicely in the Hospital’s Intensive Care Unit. It’s been two days from the accident. Many, many people have been here to see you and wish for your speedy recovery. I’ve decided to jot a few lines for your record. I’ll forget—as is the case right now. There were so many visitors last night that the hospital had to put down some restrictions on the number of people who came to see you.

My emotions were too delicate and I turned several of your friends away. I feel terrible about that, and hope they understand.

Do you remember the day you had just showered and left the house with Don? I walked into the kitchen when the phone rang. A police officer identified himself and asked if I was your mother. He then told me about your accident and that you were at the hospital. When I arrived I was led to a room where I met with a doctor.

He told me:

Your son has been in an accident. Physically he looks very good. His ear had been cut, but I will call a plastic surgeon to repair this. He had bleeding from a puncture to the side of his head and we have taken care of that. He was not breathing at the time of the ambulance arrival and he is in a comatose condition right now. With head injuries like this, we just have to wait.

*     *     *

Your mother called me at the office, my father later told me. She told me you were in an accident, and the doctors told her you were in bad shape. I left immediately, and during the drive I couldn’t help but imagine the worst. I kept thinking about all those afternoons we spent on the baseball field, and how you developed as a player. I wanted to see you continue with your athletic gifts, my father retold his story at a later date. I never wanted or imagined that this day would come. Or I would receive such a phone call from Mom.

*     *     *

Eric did breathe on his own, Don told my mother. He also wrote in the notebook, The joke is over. It’s not funny anymore. This is really hard. Wake up, just wake up and be okay.

After being stabilized in the intensive care unit, 14 days later they transferred me to the hospitals Skilled Nursing Facility (S.N.F.).

CHAPTER 2

Adolescent Angst…

Sports allowed me to use my athletic gifts,

but my future beyond August 15, 1985, lacked any clear focus.

Maturity hadn’t found me yet, which led me on a road to nowhere.

Out of control and going nowhere fast.

IMAGE%20001.jpg

Mom, Pop and Me

My%20friend%20Nezzie-Days%20before%20the%20accident.jpg

My friend Nezzie-Days before the

accident

Chapter 2… Adolescent Angst

I remember dreaming. One dream ran through my head on a looped tape reel sequencing everything very similar to what had happened in real life. The dream I had over and over, indicated that I caused the accident. My dream had me believe I struck another vehicle. In my dream Don and I escorted another driver to safety after my small truck slammed into their vehicle.

After the other driver safely escaped I looked up to see the carnage, and that is when my eyes rolled towards the sky and I passed out.

Someday the reason behind that dream may some day come to me, but during my coma I had no correlation of time and the world around me. In fact it felt as though I had only lain down to sleep the night before, but it’s already been one full month since the accident and I have not spoken a word.

*     *     *

What’s in it for me? Everything around me before August 15, 1985, had to, in some way be about ol’#1. I acted selfish and uncaring about any other individual except me. Throw me all the glory, but don’t expect me to do anything for you in return. It’s strange, but my self-conscious knew I acted like an asshole. It’s just that my physical self pretended there was no reason for concern.

Eric, whatcha gonna do after we split this town they call high school? Tony asked me.

Man, I haven’t thought that far ahead. I wanna sleep for a week.

I’m gonna make some cash delivering furniture and then in July I start to lifeguard for the summer, Don said.

What about you Tony? Both Don and I wanted Tony to speak out.

I’m gonna go to boot camp in the Air Force, Tony confidently told us.

Whaaaaaaat? Both Don and I asked in unison.

It’s better than hangin’ out here, Tony remarked.

When Don and I looked at each other, I think lightbulbs flashed. Either that or our wheels were set in motion. We finally were thinking of the BIG picture. Our future.

Days before the accident I stood at the dawn of hope and expectation with my life about to begin, except no class or teacher could’ve prepared me for what happened. Undoubtedly there were dreams of an athletic career, which clouded my vision. I played baseball from age 6 all the way to 17. I played nearly every sport, but Baseball proved to be my most dominant sport. I excelled to a very competitive level and displayed a genuine understanding for the game. I