Warrior Games 2013: Life can change in a split second

  • Published
  • By Tech. Sgt. Mareshah Haynes
  • Air Force News Service
COLORADO SPRINGS, Colo. --  Life can be described as a series of moments, seconds even, strung together to form experiences and memories. A split-second decision can mean the difference between life and death.

Senior Master Sgt. Martin Smith knows the impact just one second can make.

Smitih, a seasoned motorcycle rider and Active Guard Reservist, was driving home from work just as he had done countless times before. A construction project on the interstate had caused traffic to back up on the roadway. As he came around a sharp curve, he didn't realize the cars in front of him were actually at a stand-still.

"I tried to brake, but because of the heat and the asphalt and my tires, I slid," he said. "I let up on the brake and tried to re-brake, and I realized I wasn't going to clear (the car in front of me), so I tried to go into the ditch. But I was a millisecond too late, and I clipped the back right-hand corner of that car, all on my left leg."

Smith said he didn't realize the gravity of what had happened initially. He saw that his leg was badly injured and bleeding profusely, so he began to perform self-aid and buddy care on himself.

"I took my belt off and wrapped around the bottom of my knee, trying to tourniquet it," he said. "It was almost like I was looking back at myself. I was on a slope and my leg was on the downhill part of that, so I knew I had to get turned but I didn't have the strength to get turned."

Eventually, the adrenaline from the accident wore off and Smith began to go into shock. Bystanders, including a prior Marine, attended to Smith while the local emergency responders were en route via helicopter. Smith said he remembers the EMTs talking to him during the flight to the hospital trying to keep him awake.

Smith's leg had been crushed in the accident and the damage was worse than he anticipated. The trauma to the tissues and nerves was so severe the doctors suggested that below the knee amputation would be his best option. Smith said the doctor told him the damage was similar to that seen in roadside bombing injuries.

Within four days of the accident, Smith, his wife and the doctor agreed the best course of action would be to amputate the leg below the knee.

He and his wife had discussed the options and were confident in the decision, but Smith said after the surgery, while he was alone in his room, what had happened really began to hit him -- and hard.

"It wasn't until that first weekend after the amputation, when nobody in the hospital room, all of a sudden, out of the blue, everything just kind of bloomed on that Saturday afternoon," Smith said. "I got down in a pretty dark hole. It was kind of like, 'Stop lying to yourself, this is where it's really at. Everything's changed. You're going to have to re-learn [how] to do stuff. There's a bunch of stuff you can't do.' It was pretty dark. I never realized all this stuff was out there (emotionally)."

Smith said without even knowing, his wife walked in just at the right moment and reached out a hand that helped him begin to climb out of that hole.

"She said just the right thing at the right time," he said. "I was not expecting her to say that and she said it calmly and strongly, 'We're both fighters.' I was like, 'Wow. Thanks.' It hit me like a silver bullet. She was able to chase all that stuff away. It's still hard to deal with, but it wasn't so desperate when she came in there and talked to me that Sunday. It was scary. I'd never felt feelings like that before."

Smith said his family and his faith helped him get through the tough times and they continue to now. In the Smith household, a good dose of laughter can help ease a potentially scary or uncomfortable situation.

After the surgery, Smith's residual limb had a lot of healing to do. It was swollen, wrapped in plastic to prevent infection and the doctors left a hole in the end to allow the leg to heal from the inside out. Smith said it was quite an unusual sight.

"One of the girls said it looks like a big ham that you buy at the supermarket," he said. "I was like, 'Hey, you're right. It does look like a big ham!' So I think they knew they could joke about it, and I think that helped them."

Now, eight months out from his accident, Smith is diving into some old habits. A competitive swimmer in high school, Smith said he hadn't swum competitively in more than 30 years.

"I wasn't doing much of a long distance, but at least I was doing something that was making me breathe hard and it felt good," he said. "I really had just been laying around, up to that point, for three months not doing anything."

Now he's competing in the 2013 Warrior Games as a swimmer. He said training for the Games has reignited his competitive spirit and given him a goal to help him get his prosthetic leg that will give him the freedom to run and become involved in even more activities.

Smith is not only showing during the games there is life after an injury, but he's showing Airmen in his unit at Peterson Air Force Base, Colo. Smith has been back to work since November 2012, and he said it's back to business as usual.

"My goal is to try to get back to the point where I can have a unit run and call cadence," he said. "That's my ultimate goal."

This is Smith's first time competing in the Warrior Games and as he takes on this new endeavor, he still has his eye on an old.

"I am not shaken by (the accident)," he said. "I've ridden a motorcycle for 20 years. I want to get back on it. I'm looking forward to it."