It’s amazing how one phone call can change your life.

So there I was worrying about the upcoming finals week. My finals week is not next week; rather, all my professors set their deadlines for this week. (Isn’t this supposed to be dead week?)

They’re as anxious as I am to get out of here.

As my head was busy scheduling the projects on which I can afford to procrastinate, my phone interrupted my thoughts.

My former foster mother, Judith, was on the line telling me that my full-blooded 19-year-old sister was in a car accident.

“She’s going to be in a wheelchair for a while. We don’t know if she’ll be paralyzed, but she’s pretty banged up,” Judith said.

The conversation entailed that my sister had a hole drilled into her head because the doctors were worried about the problem of fluid going to her brain. She also has a fractured pelvis and femur, which is the strongest bone in the body. She had surgery performed in which they put a metal rod inside and several outside of her body.

An hour after Judith called, I accepted a collect call from my sister. She sounded awful.

My sister gave a detailed account of how she and her friends were driving in the middle of the desert when suddenly they reached a slippery road. Her ex-boyfriend’s Hyundai spun out of control and the car tipped over.

They were all wearing safety belts but that didn’t stop my sister from being thrown halfway out the window. She then had to be air lifted to the nearest hospital.

Her boyfriend, ex-boyfriend and friends suffered massive injuries but theirs are not as severe as my sister’s.

“My poor baby,” I kept crooning and sobbing to her. My gut instinct was to drop everything and rush down to San Diego to see my only sister…my baby sister. She wasn’t going to have that though. After a mild argument, I comprised on making arrangements to get my schoolwork done early, then go and live with her for at least the remainder of winter session.

Actually, I’m contemplating taking a semester off, working like the dickens, transferring my units, and devoting what little time I’ll have to taking care of her. Time will tell, though, as to whether all that is necessary.

Before I got “the call,” my life was typical and moving along in a progressive fashion. I was preparing for finals, making appointments for internships and planning to visit the San Francisco Chronicle in order to schmooze and collect business cards. But my priorities and the direction of my life understandably changed dramatically.

And it only took one phone call.

No one is ever prepared for the worst. We all get so caught up in the daily grind and major in minor things. Being in the midst of the holiday season and feeling the crunch time of schoolwork is proof of that.

No one should ever feel guilty about the problems they have or the troubles they dwell on.

There is no ruler that measures misery, but it’s pretty sad when it has to take some form of tragedy for people to realize how good they’ve had it.

Even if people realized they had it good, it’s easy to forget how quickly tragic events can take place and alter their lives.

When my sister was telling me the horrific day she had, I knew deep down that we are both lucky that she’s alive, even though she’s not well right now.

While my sister talked, I somehow managed to stay calm and make her laugh. Of course I had a tear parade marching down my warm cheeks after our talk, but a part of me was happy and relieved.

Now if I could find happiness in my present situation, especially after the story I just told you, I’m sure you can find some yourself.

Georgette Todd is a Journalism major. She can be reached by e-mail at [email protected] or by mail c/o The State Hornet at 6000 J St, Sacramento, CA 95819.