- When Sian headed out for dinner with her husband she never imagined it would turn into a nightmare
- A car ploughed through the window of the restaurant hitting Sian and sending her flying across the room
- Now she’s back on her feet after the car accident and in recovery
Here Sian Habgood, 32, Rotorua, NZ tells her story in her own words
Taking a seat at the dining table across from my husband Jethro, 35, I scanned the menu.
It was March 2024, and we were enjoying a date night, after dropping off our kids Lukka, 12, Malakhai, eight, and Aria, six, to my parents Iain, 55, and Hayley, 52.
It was around 5pm and from my view next to the front window, I could see the sun was just setting.
‘I hope the kids are behaving,’ I said, taking a bite of garlic bread.
‘They’ll be fine. Your parents can handle them for a few hours,’ Jethro replied, smiling.
Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I saw headlights coming straight for me from the right.
Realising the car had veered off the road and was about to hit us, I jumped out of my seat to try to escape and run for my life.
But I only managed one step before a deafening bang! rang out through the restaurant.
Glass rained down on me as the blue SUV smashed through the window, hitting me in the back and my right side.
Tossed seven metres across the room like a rag doll, my body was slammed into the far back wall of the restaurant.
The car was lodged in the wall next to me, its bonnet folded in on itself like a crumpled cola can.
Horrifyingly, I saw that my pink jacket, which had been on the back of my chair, was now on the floor, wedged under the vehicle.
If I hadn’t moved, I’d be dead right now, I realised, swallowing the lump in my throat.
I couldn’t see the driver, as clouds of dust and debris filled the air.
Scanning the room in search of Jethro, it looked like a bomb had gone off in there.
Tables, chairs and broken dinnerware were strewn everywhere.
Please let Jethro be okay, I thought, my heart racing.
‘Sian!’ I heard him scream, as he spotted me in the rubble.
Making out his silhouette through the mess, I finally let my body relax as I lay back on the floor.
‘Someone call for help,’ Jethro cried.
‘Just stay there, Sian. Everything’s all right,’ he assured me, as the wail of sirens could be heard sounding in the distance.
People began to fill the restaurant, coming to help. Other diners and staff rushed over too.
‘I’m a nurse, you’ll be okay,’ one told me. ‘Help is coming,’ they said.
Minutes later, paramedics and police arrived, and I was soon rushed to Rotorua Hospital.
My bones had been shattered
‘My hips,’ I moaned, as the adrenaline began to subside and the pain set in.
Then it dawned on me.
I couldn’t feel my legs.
What if I can never use them again? I panicked.
I was given pain medication and had a CAT scan and X-rays to determine the extent of my injuries.
They revealed I had a fractured pelvis, tailbone, right knee, right finger and right foot, plus bruised lungs and a grade five spleen laceration.
I couldn’t believe my bones had been shattered and my organs damaged on a date night!
I also suffered lacerations from the broken glass to my head and right ankle, which required staples.
In shock, I couldn’t believe everything had happened so quickly.
But I also knew how lucky I was to be alive.
Police came in and explained to me the driver had suffered a medical event that led to the crash.
It was a total accident.
I had a metal frame inserted in my finger to keep the bone in place. Thankfully my spleen healed on its own.
My parents were amazing and looked after the kids, who wrote me get-well cards, while Jethro stayed by my side.
After seven days, I was finally discharged and instructed to remain on bed rest for three months while I recovered.
Seeing my beautiful children’s faces back at home warmed my heart, and I hugged them close.
‘I love you so much,’ I told the kids, thinking how close I’d come to missing out on seeing them grow up.
Slowly progressing, I started using a walking frame and then crutches to get around.
I also underwent weekly physiotherapy to work on regaining strength in my hand and knee.
Jethro was my rock.
He took two months off work to help out, by taking me to appointments, picking up the kids from school, and cooking dinner.
I had to take time off from my work at a mountain bike store while I recovered.
Three months after the ordeal, I went back to the restaurant with Jethro. We sat at a different table, but still didn’t stay long as it was just too overwhelming.
Sixteen months on, I’m continuing to recover both physically and mentally.
But I still can’t run after the kids, jump on the trampoline or kick a ball with them.
Whenever I eat out somewhere now, I’m hyper aware of everything going on, worried that a car might crash in again.
Through it all, Jethro, my parents, and the kids have been an incredible support, cheering me on as I hit my physio milestones, and making meals so I can rest.
The accident has taught me that life can change in a split second, and it has reminded me of what really matters in life
– my family.
I’m going to do everything I can to get back on my feet for them.
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