MARCH 2, 2018
Five years ago, on March 2, 2013, I had a life altering experience that started out as near tragic but has become the catalyst to me being a stronger, better person. I’m a pretty quiet person in general, and I don’t share a whole lot about my life on social media. I’ve been open to sharing details about what happened when asked, but I have not publicly disclosed much. I would like to use the 5 year anniversary of this accident to share details. I share them in the hopes of helping others. I share the facts of my accident along with the days and weeks after it in the hopes of inspiring others to know that things can and do get better!
First off…I remember absolutely nothing of the accident itself…or the 24 hours prior…and only tiny bits and pieces of the 2 weeks after the accident. So most of what I’m about to tell you is all based on what I was told had happened (assuming I was being told the truth ;-)!).
First off…I remember absolutely nothing of the accident itself…or the 24 hours prior…and only tiny bits and pieces of the 2 weeks after the accident. So most of what I’m about to tell you is all based on what I was told had happened (assuming I was being told the truth ;-)!).
March 2, 2013
I was driving on I-65 south of Louisville, KY in the morning heading back to Nashville to play a couple of gigs that evening. Because of a fiery crash on the northbound side of the interstate, traffic on the southbound side, my side, had slowed almost to a standstill, and I was last in line. A semi traveling about 50 miles per hour struck the back of my vehicle creating a domino effect as I slammed into the vehicle in front of me. They in turn hit the vehicle in front of them. My truck ended up on the shoulder of the road looking more like an accordion than a pickup truck.
I was driving on I-65 south of Louisville, KY in the morning heading back to Nashville to play a couple of gigs that evening. Because of a fiery crash on the northbound side of the interstate, traffic on the southbound side, my side, had slowed almost to a standstill, and I was last in line. A semi traveling about 50 miles per hour struck the back of my vehicle creating a domino effect as I slammed into the vehicle in front of me. They in turn hit the vehicle in front of them. My truck ended up on the shoulder of the road looking more like an accordion than a pickup truck.
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Because of the accident on the northbound side, a state trooper already working that scene ran across the interstate to assist me. He said he thought a bomb went off when the semi struck my truck. Paramedics who were already in route to the northbound accident were diverted to me instead. In less than 5 minutes from the time of my accident, I had a state trooper and EMS assisting me. Their quick arrival was key to my survival. The first trooper on the scene couldn’t find a pulse, so he prayed over me. I then gasped.
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I have since been able to thank and talk to the 2 paramedics. They said I was breathing 3 to 4 times a minute when they first arrived. They secured my neck and got me out of my truck fairly quickly. I was extremely combative due to head trauma so they had to use techniques they don’t often use…just to settle me down. I was rushed to the local hospital and then air lifted to the University of Louisville Hospital.
To further complicate matters, no one could find my wallet or phone to identify who I was. For approximately 9 hours I was John Doe. Additionally the license plate from the semi embedded itself into my bumper on impact, so the troopers thought I was from Ohio.
I try and show up early for gigs. If I am running late, I let people know. When I wasn’t there and had not notified anyone, people began calling and worrying. When my phone was finally recovered, the trooper called the most recent missed call. It was from my high school band director as he and I continue to stay in touch. Since he wasn’t family, the trooper could not share any details other than “it wasn’t good.” Through a series of phone calls, my family finally received word of the accident about 9 hours after it happened. One of my sisters and my brother headed to Louisville late that night to find “John Doe” in ICU.
To further complicate matters, no one could find my wallet or phone to identify who I was. For approximately 9 hours I was John Doe. Additionally the license plate from the semi embedded itself into my bumper on impact, so the troopers thought I was from Ohio.
I try and show up early for gigs. If I am running late, I let people know. When I wasn’t there and had not notified anyone, people began calling and worrying. When my phone was finally recovered, the trooper called the most recent missed call. It was from my high school band director as he and I continue to stay in touch. Since he wasn’t family, the trooper could not share any details other than “it wasn’t good.” Through a series of phone calls, my family finally received word of the accident about 9 hours after it happened. One of my sisters and my brother headed to Louisville late that night to find “John Doe” in ICU.
MY HOSPITAL STAY
My injuries consisted of a broken C2 vertebra, TBI (traumatic brain injury), a collapsed lung, a broken nose, and 6 broken ribs. The surgeon fused my C2 and C3 vertebrae. He attempted to go through the front of my neck to allow for the best chance of a fuller range of motion. As if a fractured vertebra isn’t scary enough, a fracture of the C2 is also called the “hangman’s fracture” as it typically causes paralysis or death. The initial scan after surgery didn’t yield the results the surgeon had hoped. It appeared as if the surgeon would have to attempt the second surgery from the back. This surgery would pretty much guarantee that I would not be able to move my head very much. Fortunately a second scan was done. The first scan wasn’t from a good angle. The second scan showed my surgery was a success!
While the fractured vertebra was the most critical of the injuries, the others had their impact (as was evident the first time I sneezed with 6 broken ribs!). The swelling on my brain, right after the wreck, provided tremendous worry. My brain had swollen, and there was talk about the possibility of drilling into my skull to relieve the swelling and pressure. Fortunately the swelling subsided on its own. The TBI left me a little “un-Gregg like.” I went, in essence, a few days without sleeping much or eating anything. I tried getting out of my bed; I said that I was seeing things; and I was generally unpleasant to be around. Additionally my mind was thinking things that weren’t true. When I did get my phone, I did all kinds of things. I sent a text of nonsense letters to someone. I also emailed someone letting him know I was in a second accident. I also tried telling people I would miss gigs or that I needed to reschedule the lessons I was teaching. Little did I know that everyone already knew about the accident. To all those I sent crazy messages…Sorry about that! Ha!
One of the most powerful experiences that came from all of this was the realization of how much I was loved. I had family by my side non-stop which was amazing. I have very little recollection of my time in the hospital, but I do remember Kellie Pickler (who I was playing drums for at the time) and some of the guys from her organization coming to visit me on the Wednesday after the accident. I still had a tube down my throat helping me breathe, so I couldn’t talk, and I would go in and out of consciousness. My family had made a chart of the alphabet, and I would point to different letters to spell words. The first time that I spelled out anything was when Kellie was in the room, and the first question I asked was, “When is our next gig?”
I got the breathing tube taken out late in the week. I had to “retrain” my body how to breathe, and from what I have been told, it wasn’t an easy task. My sister has since told me that I had told her at the time that I didn’t think I could do it, but she was there by my side supporting and helping me breathe on my own again.
Whether it be blood or friendship, so many people cared and were willing to support and be there for me.
My injuries consisted of a broken C2 vertebra, TBI (traumatic brain injury), a collapsed lung, a broken nose, and 6 broken ribs. The surgeon fused my C2 and C3 vertebrae. He attempted to go through the front of my neck to allow for the best chance of a fuller range of motion. As if a fractured vertebra isn’t scary enough, a fracture of the C2 is also called the “hangman’s fracture” as it typically causes paralysis or death. The initial scan after surgery didn’t yield the results the surgeon had hoped. It appeared as if the surgeon would have to attempt the second surgery from the back. This surgery would pretty much guarantee that I would not be able to move my head very much. Fortunately a second scan was done. The first scan wasn’t from a good angle. The second scan showed my surgery was a success!
While the fractured vertebra was the most critical of the injuries, the others had their impact (as was evident the first time I sneezed with 6 broken ribs!). The swelling on my brain, right after the wreck, provided tremendous worry. My brain had swollen, and there was talk about the possibility of drilling into my skull to relieve the swelling and pressure. Fortunately the swelling subsided on its own. The TBI left me a little “un-Gregg like.” I went, in essence, a few days without sleeping much or eating anything. I tried getting out of my bed; I said that I was seeing things; and I was generally unpleasant to be around. Additionally my mind was thinking things that weren’t true. When I did get my phone, I did all kinds of things. I sent a text of nonsense letters to someone. I also emailed someone letting him know I was in a second accident. I also tried telling people I would miss gigs or that I needed to reschedule the lessons I was teaching. Little did I know that everyone already knew about the accident. To all those I sent crazy messages…Sorry about that! Ha!
One of the most powerful experiences that came from all of this was the realization of how much I was loved. I had family by my side non-stop which was amazing. I have very little recollection of my time in the hospital, but I do remember Kellie Pickler (who I was playing drums for at the time) and some of the guys from her organization coming to visit me on the Wednesday after the accident. I still had a tube down my throat helping me breathe, so I couldn’t talk, and I would go in and out of consciousness. My family had made a chart of the alphabet, and I would point to different letters to spell words. The first time that I spelled out anything was when Kellie was in the room, and the first question I asked was, “When is our next gig?”
I got the breathing tube taken out late in the week. I had to “retrain” my body how to breathe, and from what I have been told, it wasn’t an easy task. My sister has since told me that I had told her at the time that I didn’t think I could do it, but she was there by my side supporting and helping me breathe on my own again.
Whether it be blood or friendship, so many people cared and were willing to support and be there for me.
(Pictured eating real food for the 1st time on March 13th. I’ve never looked so happy eating a turkey sandwich!)
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As if a scary surgery and brain swelling weren’t enough, I had difficulty swallowing (from having a tube down my throat for almost a week). I couldn’t eat anything until I passed a swallowing test. I failed the test the first 2 times. If I would have failed it the 3rd time, the doctors would have inserted a feeding tube in my stomach, and my hospital stay would have been extended even more. This brings me to brief memory #2. I remember sitting in a chair with them giving me a spoonful of some kind of pudding substance. They put a machine up to the right side of my face, and I swallowed the pudding. Fortunately I passed and was able to start eating again.
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OUT OF ICU AND INTO REHAB
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I finally got released from ICU and was put in a regular hospital room. The combined trauma and lying in a bed for nearly 2 weeks left my muscles incredibly weak. I had to build my strength again simply to use a walker to walk around the hallway and nurse’s station.
On March 14th I was transferred to the rehab hospital. I remember the very short ambulance ride there. During my week stay, I spent 6 hours a day in rehab sessions…I had (2) one hour sessions of Physical (large muscles), Occupational (smaller muscles and minor tasks), and Speech (my mind, memory, and mental skills) therapy each day. My memory, especially short term memory, was still very shaky because by the end of the day I couldn’t remember what I ate for breakfast (although I do remember now they served tasty omelettes!) I do remember most of the rehab hospital including the main doctor and each therapist I saw twice a day. I have been fortunate to go back and see them and thank them. A couple of years later they were able to come to a show Kellie had in Louisville. |
(My first time standing on March 12th!)
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I officially went home on Thursday, March 21st. I continued outpatient therapy at Vanderbilt and travelled back to Louisville a few times for checkups. Most of my time was rebuilding my strength and muscle movements. I had to wear my neck brace for about 3 months to allow healing from the surgery.
SURPRISING KELLIE AND RETURNING TO "NORMAL"
(Pictured is me and Kellie as I played the encore tune on April 26, 2013)
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Kellie’s involvement on “Dancing with the Stars” (which she WON!) meant that I didn’t miss as many shows as I normally would have. One concert that had been scheduled was 3 miles from my hometown on April 26th. I had been practicing drums in my basement and had been given the green light by the doctors to travel back home for the show. At sound check I played “Red High Heels” with the band. After much internal debate, I chose to overcome my anxiety and surprise Kellie and my family by performing “Red High Heels” during her encore.
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When the lights went out, I slipped behind the kit and started playing. Both the crowd and Kellie’s reactions cannot be summarized by words. Kellie had difficulty singing while crying. I couldn’t help but cry as well. Performing for the first time with her in front of my hometown added to both the magic and the anxiety. Until then I had only played in my basement. Just playing that one tune gave me extra motivation to keep working on the rehab process, and it gave me proof that it was working. It was a great step in getting back to feeling more like me.
On May 22, 2013 the doctor gave me the green light to take off my neck brace. I continued to strengthen my muscles, and on May 29 I was able to resume touring full time and continue the life that I love.
On May 22, 2013 the doctor gave me the green light to take off my neck brace. I continued to strengthen my muscles, and on May 29 I was able to resume touring full time and continue the life that I love.
WHAT DID I LEARN FROM THIS?
First and foremost, I was given a great reminder on how many amazing people I’m surrounded with in my life….which at times I simply took for granted. That begins with my amazing family…my parents, 4 sisters, and brother. They were with me the whole time…from the night of my accident all the way through my recovery at home. Whether it was supporting me through the ups and downs at the hospital, rides to therapy and checkups since I was unable to drive, and just being there whenever I needed to talk/vent. They’re all married and have children, jobs, and their own lives to deal with…and they put all of that on hold to help me. Quite an amazing and humbling feeling.
At the time of the accident I had been playing for Kellie Pickler for 7 years. Kellie and the guys in her organization were like a second family to me. And that’s exactly how they acted and supported me through the accident. In an industry where job security isn’t sometimes all that secure, Kellie told me to take as much time as I needed to heal and my job would be there for me when I was ready to return. That meant a ton to me.
Another great group of people that stepped up in a big way is the Nashville musician community. I had been living in Nashville for 13 years prior to the accident and have had the honor to meet and play with many musicians in town. I literally can’t tell you how many people reached out to myself and my family asking what they can do to help out. A benefit was organized to help with expenses since I was out of work for months. I was able to attend the benefit and as I walked up to the venue, the place was packed, and there was a line out of the door of people waiting to get inside. Items were donated for a raffle and singers and bands agreed to play through the night including, The Brothers Osbourne, Ray Scott, Craig Campbell, Gunner from “Nashville”, 7 Bridges Road, and a band I was a part of, Raisin’ Cain.….all donating their time. It was simply overwhelming. I’m realizing the support I received wasn’t because of music or drumming….music was just the outlet. My support just came from great people….who happen to play music.
I also learned how music can be a great healer, both mentally and physically. To be quite honest, the rehab part was pretty frustrating. I had been playing drums for nearly 30 years of my life prior to the accident. It was my living….my life revolved around it. So when I finally got to sit behind my drums at the house over a month after the accident and not be able to play the things I had been able to do for years was pretty deflating. It was a slow process working to build up my strength to have it “feel” normal again. But I had a goal to get back on the road again with Kellie as soon as I was both physically and mentally able. Music was the driving force for my motivation.
As I’ve reflected back through all of these details over the years, I ask myself, “Why?” Not why did this happen to me….but more like why did I survive, and why was I able to get back to playing drums and doing what I love to do with making music? From the state troopers, paramedics, and doctors I’ve gotten to talk to since the accident, no one really expected me to survive much less get back to drumming so soon, considering the injuries I had. I can’t answer exactly why….but I do think that everyone from the trooper who first said a prayer over me to the countless number of people that sent prayers my way all helped contribute to my survival and healing process. That greatly strengthened my faith. I’m very thankful and feel like I have a second chance and want to make the most of it.
I’ve also learned a lot about “life” from this experience. I think regardless of what you do for a living, it’s important to try to be a good, caring person above anything else. If you care, you’ll do well at your craft, and if you’re a good person, you’ll treat people with respect. The people that helped and supported me are first and foremost good, caring people. Working hard and treating people well, regardless of your own career path, are the cornerstones to a good life. Doing those 2 things helps you establish a reputation and a person people want to help! Think of it as growing and developing your own “personal capital.” Personal capital is what you build as a person as you go through life (similar to interest in banking)…which in turn helps earn your reputation. The way you treat people, the way you conduct your business, and just the way you live life develops your reputation….hopefully in a good way. If so, you build up that “personal capital” and develop a good reputation with others. Then in times of need people will be there to help. And after my accident I feel like my “personal capital” needs replenished!
At the time of the accident I had been playing for Kellie Pickler for 7 years. Kellie and the guys in her organization were like a second family to me. And that’s exactly how they acted and supported me through the accident. In an industry where job security isn’t sometimes all that secure, Kellie told me to take as much time as I needed to heal and my job would be there for me when I was ready to return. That meant a ton to me.
Another great group of people that stepped up in a big way is the Nashville musician community. I had been living in Nashville for 13 years prior to the accident and have had the honor to meet and play with many musicians in town. I literally can’t tell you how many people reached out to myself and my family asking what they can do to help out. A benefit was organized to help with expenses since I was out of work for months. I was able to attend the benefit and as I walked up to the venue, the place was packed, and there was a line out of the door of people waiting to get inside. Items were donated for a raffle and singers and bands agreed to play through the night including, The Brothers Osbourne, Ray Scott, Craig Campbell, Gunner from “Nashville”, 7 Bridges Road, and a band I was a part of, Raisin’ Cain.….all donating their time. It was simply overwhelming. I’m realizing the support I received wasn’t because of music or drumming….music was just the outlet. My support just came from great people….who happen to play music.
I also learned how music can be a great healer, both mentally and physically. To be quite honest, the rehab part was pretty frustrating. I had been playing drums for nearly 30 years of my life prior to the accident. It was my living….my life revolved around it. So when I finally got to sit behind my drums at the house over a month after the accident and not be able to play the things I had been able to do for years was pretty deflating. It was a slow process working to build up my strength to have it “feel” normal again. But I had a goal to get back on the road again with Kellie as soon as I was both physically and mentally able. Music was the driving force for my motivation.
As I’ve reflected back through all of these details over the years, I ask myself, “Why?” Not why did this happen to me….but more like why did I survive, and why was I able to get back to playing drums and doing what I love to do with making music? From the state troopers, paramedics, and doctors I’ve gotten to talk to since the accident, no one really expected me to survive much less get back to drumming so soon, considering the injuries I had. I can’t answer exactly why….but I do think that everyone from the trooper who first said a prayer over me to the countless number of people that sent prayers my way all helped contribute to my survival and healing process. That greatly strengthened my faith. I’m very thankful and feel like I have a second chance and want to make the most of it.
I’ve also learned a lot about “life” from this experience. I think regardless of what you do for a living, it’s important to try to be a good, caring person above anything else. If you care, you’ll do well at your craft, and if you’re a good person, you’ll treat people with respect. The people that helped and supported me are first and foremost good, caring people. Working hard and treating people well, regardless of your own career path, are the cornerstones to a good life. Doing those 2 things helps you establish a reputation and a person people want to help! Think of it as growing and developing your own “personal capital.” Personal capital is what you build as a person as you go through life (similar to interest in banking)…which in turn helps earn your reputation. The way you treat people, the way you conduct your business, and just the way you live life develops your reputation….hopefully in a good way. If so, you build up that “personal capital” and develop a good reputation with others. Then in times of need people will be there to help. And after my accident I feel like my “personal capital” needs replenished!
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I’ve got to give credit to the “personal capital” life lesson to my former band director, Craig Lindvahl. Long story short, he’s been the biggest influence in my life both musically and personally. If you’re looking for an inspirational read, I highly recommend his book, “Things You Wish You Knew Yesterday.” (www.thingsyouwishyouknewyesterday.com) It’s a book that makes a lot of common sense about life.
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Another big lesson I learned from all of this (and I hope you learn as well) is the saying we’ve all heard 100 times…”don’t sweat the small stuff.” Sadly it took a major incident such as this accident to make me fully realize how true that statement is. Yes, the accident was a big deal for me and my family at the time….but in the grand scheme of things, wearing a neck brace for a few months and rehabbing was just a very small part of my 36 years of life at the time. Issues that pop up in life are just little inconveniences instead of big problems. And there is always someone who has it worse than you. I remember seeing other patients in the rehab hospital that were in far worse shape than I was….just yet another reminder on how lucky I am.
WHY AM I SHARING WITH YOU?
Everyone endures bad times, whether physically, emotionally, or both…..it’s just a part of life. To me what separates people is how they handle those negative times in life. Those tough times can be an outlet to make you a stronger person in the end. And that’s my goal with having gone through my accident….to become a better, stronger person and do more to help others. And to get through those tough times, it’s extremely important to have a good support system. That’s why building your “personal capital” is important and comes in handy in those times of need. Trust me, those tough times can happen and will happen when you least expect it.
Addtionally, I have shared everything (details of my injuries and my road to recovery) to give people hope. For the first couple of days after my wreck, no one was sure I would survive. After my surgery, people weren’t sure I would be able to play the drums again. Part of the reason I am sharing this is that I want to give people hope. I want people to realize that bad times don’t define us, but they can strengthen us and strengthen relationships. Bad times can force us to reprioritize. Bad times reveal to us how good other people are. That is the beauty that bad times give us…and they also give us a reference point and a motivation to reflect and grow.
Thanks for reading and letting me share my thoughts. I hope my story and a little of what I said will have a positive impact moving forward.
Addtionally, I have shared everything (details of my injuries and my road to recovery) to give people hope. For the first couple of days after my wreck, no one was sure I would survive. After my surgery, people weren’t sure I would be able to play the drums again. Part of the reason I am sharing this is that I want to give people hope. I want people to realize that bad times don’t define us, but they can strengthen us and strengthen relationships. Bad times can force us to reprioritize. Bad times reveal to us how good other people are. That is the beauty that bad times give us…and they also give us a reference point and a motivation to reflect and grow.
Thanks for reading and letting me share my thoughts. I hope my story and a little of what I said will have a positive impact moving forward.