My DH and I were on the way home from my parents house this afternoon and we were witnesses to a motorcycle accident. I'm having a lot of trouble decompressing from it, so I'm hoping that writing it all out will help.

There was a motorcycle in front of us on the highway, and he started to take the off-ramp to the weigh station. Except the weigh station was closed, and the gate was closed.

I turned to my husband (who was driving) and said "What the heck is that guy...." and I didn't get to finish the sentence before we saw him hit the gate, and go flying off his bike. The image keeps replaying in my head. Over and over the man goes sailing off his bike like a toy doll.

He wasn't wearing a helmet.

My DH stopped the car and got out. I called 911. I remember fumbling with my phone, carefully dialing the three numbers, feeling like it was taking forever. I thought I was very clear in describing where we were... except later I realized that I told them we were traveling east, but we were going west. Someone called after I did and got the direction right.

DH went over to the man, who was unconscious on the ground. I ran out of the car hollering "don't move him!". He was bleeding. Badly. I'll spare you the details, but he had massive head trauma.

Someone else stopped and ran toward us and asked "Does anyone have a first aid kit?". Then it hit me - YES, I do. I grabbed the kit from the car, put on the gloves and grabbed the biggest gauze pad I had and started compressing his head. He was still unconscious, but breathing.

More people started stopping, including two RN nurses. I wanted badly for one of them to take the responsibility of holding his head, the reality was starting to hit me. But at that point, he woke up and started getting irritated. He pushed my hands off his head, starting trying to get up, began yelling "Let me out!". It took all the people there to hold him on the ground, and I was designated to keep the bleeding under control. One of the RNs finally bound his hands, so that we could have some control over him. I yelled at him to stay down multiple times. I felt like I was living an ER episode where the patient doesn't want treatment and they need to get him under control.

The two RNs started bickering about what to do. We had accumulated critical mass at the side of the road now, almost too many cooks in the kitchen.

I remember thinking "Where ARE the EMTs?". It had probably been a total of 3 minutes. It felt like forever. And I was worried he was going to die right there, even though clearly I have no medical background to know if that was a reality or not.

I remember weird little details. Like the blood on one of the helper's shoe. The smashed windshield piece 20 feet away. The bottle of orange juice in the pannier.

The fire department showed up first, followed by the police. Quickly a line of emergency vehicles at least 12 deep formed, and I was finally relieved of my duty. My gloves were soaked in blood. They told me to go wash up with some virus killing foam and thanked me for helping out. They also said that since I was the only one to see the whole thing, that I had to stay to give my statement, but I sort of expected that.

I stayed back and watched the EMTs do what they had to do to get him secured and stable. He fought hard for someone with head trauma, that's for sure. There was some talk about him being a diabetic, and possibly being in diabetic shock. It would at least explain why he'd tried to go through the closed gate.

I called home to tell me parents that we weren't home yet - my mom had already called the house looking for me, so I wanted to tell them I was ok. My dad answered the phone, and I broke down. The man's motorcycle was almost exactly the same touring model as my dad's. And I had just taken a ride with him that afternoon. The man and my dad were about the same age too. It was all just too much to handle.

As I was giving my statement, the helicopter landed and they air lifted him to a hospital. The cop told me he was stable when they loaded him, so there was hope he was going to make it. I really hope he does.

The worst part is that as they were inspecting his bike, they found his helmet. It was packed in his pannier.

Things to take as lessons today:
1) Always be prepared. I have carried a first aid kit in my car for 10 years, and today was the only time I'd needed it.
2) Remind everyone to wear helmets. I have no doubt that the man would have been in much better shape if that helmet was on his head and not in his bag.

For all of you who do this day and day out, you have my utmost respect.