On March 12 at approximately 5PM I was driving eastbound on Interstate 215 when I experienced a full tonic-clonic seizure. At 58, it was the first seizure that I have experienced in my lifetime. I hit the right barrier, accelerated across the highway and hit the left barrier, then traveled back across the highway to hit the right barrier head-on. This stopped the truck. I have no memory of the incident, but it was all captured on the dashcam. My daughter Natalie was with me as the only passenger in the vehicle, and aside from some bruising from the seatbelt and airbags, there were no immediate physical injuries to her. I broke three vertebrae in my back from the impact of the crash. Thankfully there were no other cars involved in the accident.
I have a history of visual migraines, or scintillating scatomas. The visual migraine looks more like the top left image (below) but is colorful, almost like a kaleidoscope. It appears in the center of vision and grows in intensity over one to two hours. Although not painful, it is disorienting, and typically leaves you in the same state of someone who has experienced a regular migraine when it is over.

Update: I found a video that does a pretty good job of showing what a scintillating scatoma looks like – now keep in mind this is what it looks like for 30 minutes to one hour while it’s happening:
In the past I have just resorted to waiting wherever I was until the migraine ended. I can’t see or focus while the migraine is occurring, so I rest (whether at work, or in a public space, or sitting on the side of the road in my car) until the event is over. It can take up to 1.5 hours in most cases before I’m able to revert back, but in most cases I’m just heading home to rest following one of these events.
Although rare, I have started to experience these slightly more frequently in the last year, and the visual migraines have begun to morph into more serious medical events.
- Oct 4, 2018 1PM
- Mar 1, 2023 at 1PM
- May 12, 2024 at 3PM
- Aug 30, 2025 at 12PM
- Sep 7, 2025 at 1:40PM (note that this is the first time two occurred in a year)
- Feb 5, 2026 at 2PM (transitioned into a full shoot-myself migraine)
- Mar 12, 2026 at 2PM (tonic-clonic seizure occurred at 5PM)
The March 12 event is where I learned that scintillating scotomas can act as “auras” for seizures (specifically occipital seizures) or neurological events like strokes; and a scintillating scotoma accompanied by migraine increases the risk of stroke. Those last two events in the list were significant then.
On the day of the seizure I was (ironically) at the South Jordan Health Center picking up a prescription and visiting Angela when the scatoma started. We were in the common area on the main floor and were able to hang out there for a while, so sitting there and having conversation was fine. We had run into some people we knew and there was conversation. I was mainly concerned that the scatoma might turn into another full migraine, so as soon as the visual distortion settled I headed home with Natalie so that I could lie down on the couch. Right before 4:30 Natalie reminded me that she needed to travel to a meeting in Murray that I had to drive her to. I still wasn’t feeling right but thought I could rest in the truck after she was at her destination. That, apparently is where my memory breaks.
What I don’t recall but can see from the dash cam: we were travelling a very regular route, taking side roads east along 6200 South to Redwood, then north on Redwood to the I-215 entrance from a brief jaunt on the highway to State Street, which we never reached. We were in conversation with my daughter’s MIL Monica, who was on speakerphone. Natalie was absently looking at her phone while the conversation carried. I was driving up the onramp of 6200 south to merge onto I-215 east when it looked like I needed to sneeze. Only the sneeze turned into a stretch, and that stretch became catatonic as the engine revved and the truck lurched into the first barrier. The seizure had started. Natalie was startled. The truck began to turn back onto the highway, and my foot was still on the gas pedal moving the truck forward. You can see cars avoiding us as we begin crossing lanes toward the center median. Natalie is now shouting at me. Monica, on the speakerphone, realizes that something is wrong. I am unresponsive. The truck hits the center median and the first airbags go off on my side. Now the truck has turned again, and is pointed more directly across the road. Natalie tries to grab the wheel as we accelerate across the highway once more, this time directly impacting the right barrier and stopping the vehicle. Moments later people appear on both sides of the vehicle to open doors and begin helping Natalie and assessing what happened.
For you creeps who like watching car accidents and the misfortune of others: dashcam link (warning: disturbing real life stuff)
One of the biggest concerns I have from this is that no-one coming into assistance would have known that Natalie had an intellectual disability. She was immediately under duress from the accident, and thrown into a situation where responders assessed that she was “okay” and being instructed to do things that she wasn’t readily able to respond to. For a brief period she was alone, watching her dad receive medical attention for something that had never happened before. It must have been scary, and confusing, and distressing for her. I don’t want her to ever be in a situation like that again.
One of the things that I’m thankful for is that Monica was on the line when all of this happened, because she was the one who reached out to the rest of the family to let them know what happened so that they could respond quickly. Angela and Marisa were at the scene quickly, and Ang was able to stay with Natalie while Risa followed the ambulance to the Murray IHC emergency room. They were there for Natalie, and kept things together at a critical moment. I don’t know what would have happened if they couldn’t be there. I’m grateful to Monica for thinking quickly, and for my family keeping it together when I was unresponsive and there were a bunch of unknowns for them.
The moment I remember was waking up on a gurney in the hospital. Someone says something like “he’s waking up” and a person over me says “Mr Green, I want you to know that your daughter is okay but you’ve been in a serious car accident and you were transported to emergency in Murray.” For just a moment I felt like I was waking up from sleeping, and then I was in pain. A lot of pain.
I won’t focus a lot on the hospital – I was there from about 5PM to just after 1AM the next morning before I was released. That eight hour visit accumulated $148,000 in ambulance fees, emergency room care, testing, labs, prescriptions and referrals; one totaled truck, a medical suspension on my driver license, and a new epilepsy diagnosis.
I left with three broken vertebrae and a back brace. I could barely walk, but I wanted to be home and back in a familiar space. I had been given 8 tablets of Oxycodone (enough for two days) and told to schedule with an in-network doctor to start follow-up.
Fun fact: I lost 25 pounds in the first 3 weeks because it was so painful to poop (think any pressure on your lower back) that I stopped eating. The combination of extreme pain, Topamax and complete lack of appetite is apparently a win-win for physical dieting. On a seriously positive note I haven’t needed to take any insulin since the accident because my blood glucose has been in the reliably in the green zone the entire time.

It’s worth mentioning at this point that I have barely rejoined the medically insured after Angela started a new job in February. After Oracle RIFd me last year, we have been medically uninsured since September 2025, and only gained insurance starting February 9th. My seizure was on March 12. Since the accident I have had to schedule new patient relationships with musculoskeletal, physical therapy, endocrinology, pulmonary, neurology, vision, radiology, and general medicine. It has been a scramble to find doctors who accept new patients, and who can treat new patients coming in from a recent accident.
The Recovery Timeline
The timeline is depressing, mainly because much of it can be expressed by me in periods of waiting. Waiting for my back to heal. Waiting for a call back. Waiting for my family to come home every day. Waiting for someone to take me to an appointment that I couldn’t get to on my own. Much of the time I’m alone. Angela is working two jobs to make ends meet. Natalie is working and has responsibilities with Special Olympics as an advocate and an athlete. I’m not able to perform roles I had running errands and chauffeuring. My independence is gone.
- March 12: date of the accident
- April 28: physical therapy begins (+47 days)
- May 7: 8-week recovery date for vertebrae (can take 12 weeks) (+56 days)
- June 4: “end” of mandatory 3-month medical suspension for driver license (+84 days)
- August-October: estimate to be scheduled for a seriously backlogged neurology clinic (won’t drive before this) (+142 to 233 days)
This essentially means I won’t have a real diagnosis for at least six months, and will likely not be able to drive for the rest of the year. That impacts my ability to work, and my ability to function as a caretaker and member of a household. But whatevs. Everyone is safer if I’m not behind a wheel for now.
Transportation and Access
South Jordan is a public transit dead zone, meaning there is no real way to transit within the city unless you drive, use Lyft, or have access to a scooter or bicycle. Interestingly, it seems that SoJo has made it a point to purge any micromobility services (think Lyme or Spin) because its nearly impossible to find any rentals, anywhere. At this point I am walking, and I walk where I can.
Walking distances from my home:
- 0.9 m Harmons Daybreak
- 1.7 m Costco
- 2 m Trax SoJo Pkwy Station < this is the only public transit I have access to
- 2 m Smiths West Jordan
- 2.5 m Daybreak Library
- 2.6 m University Hospital
- 2.6 m Harmons District
- 3.1 m Smiths Daybreak (via Lake Ave)
- 4 m Lowes West Jordan
Taking the Day Back
Physical Recovery
Walking seems to be the simplest thing I can do. Ang had a great idea to sign up for the U of U Health 50k in May 2026 – with a commitment to walk 1 mile a day in the month of May (31 miles ~ 50 kilometers) and benefit the Utah Food Bank at the same time. There’s other stuff but this is straightforward and gets me out of the house (important). I’m technically already doing this – yay for me – but now I have goals.
Get a Job, Ya Bum
My ongoing mantra since I was RIF’d by the monster that is Oracle has been to return to work. It’s infinitely more complex now that my transportation options are limited, but I need a damn job, and the sooner the better. I’m so so good at Zoom calls and sitting in front of computers, someone should hire me. Like, now.
Name that Devil On Your Back
At this point I’ve basically self-diagnosed with adult onset Occipital Lobe Epilepsy (OLE) because my symptoms match. I’m now on an anti-seizure medication so my only concern is whether and when I have another seizure. I need real professionals to tell me what’s wrong with me (womp-womp) so that means working through the U of U’s seriously waitlisted system in order to see neurology. I was able to complete intake and am currently waiting for a scheduler. Once I’m scheduled, I can request to be placed on the call list for any cancellations to move up on the list, but I have been told the typical wait is 4-6 months without an escalation, and that only happens if I have more seizures. Oy.
What I really hate is the whole “not knowing”. I will assume (because it’s the right thing to do) that because I had a serious seizure, and because I have a history of scatomas with evident worsening symptoms, that I have epilepsy and/or am a candidate for stroke. The problem with knowledge like that is that you still don’t know much. It’s the lesser version of “every day is a shitty version of Russian roulette; lets see how this goes”. You take your medicine and hope nothing goes wrong but if it does, oh well? Thanks for watching my show, sorry the ending was so short?
The pattern – if there is one – is two scatomas followed by a lapse of several months. I don’t know if that’s a pattern. If it is I may see another scatoma in August. Whenever it occurs I have to wonder where I will be, how I will be able to find a safe space to wait it out, and whether I’ll have time to let my loved ones know in case something bad happens. I’m not worried about me though, it’s the people I leave behind that I’m worried about.












