TROY, N.Y. — It takes at least 10 or 12 seconds for David Kaye to ease into the burgundy plush recliner, nestled into a corner of his Euclid Avenue home.

"I call this the media center," David says, gesturing to a nearby stack of entertainment options. "I've got my portable DVD player, my book, magazines. Most of my day is spent right here."

The 62-year-old is retired, but not because he wants to be. David Kaye has undergone three back surgeries in 12 months. He was forced to retire from his state job last fall, forced to take a reduced pension, and forced to file for social security disability payments. He still feels the pain of five broken ribs as well as a lacerated spleen and kidneys.

All because of a drugged driver.

"The anger for me is displaced," says David. "Who do I direct my anger at, the guy who hit me in the accident?"

His wife, Michele Kaye, is angry too.

"One person totally changed our life," she says. "Flipped our life upside-down."

David does not remember much about the crash on March 21st last year, but Michele does. She can still hear what she calls the "flapping sound," that David pulled over to investigate on the shoulder of the Northway southbound, near exit 4.

"It was the front bumper. It had dropped down," she explains. "David got bungee cords and tied it up."

They climbed back inside their Chevrolet Impala and buckled the seatbelts.

"And we were smashed into," Michele recalls. "It wasn't raining, wasn't snowing; it was clear. Our flashers were still on. We hadn't even moved yet."

The Impala had been rear-ended on the driver's side at high speed, by a brand new full-size Lincoln sedan. Larry Lindstead, then 23-years-old, was behind the wheel. He was not injured and walked away from the crash.

David did not, could not.

"I remember hearing this awful sound; a buzzsaw, or something like that. They were cutting off the driver's side door," he says. "The next thing I remember is lying on the ground, looking up at a swarm of people. I said 'I can't deal with this,' and I shut my eyes."

Once again, Michele remembers more.

"His seat was broken, it was all the way back," she recalls. "The back seat was shoved into the ceiling." David was making sounds, but Michele could not understand him.

Both were rushed to the hospital, but Michele was released that night. After surviving a critical diagnosis, David remained at Albany Medical Center until mid-April, and left in a wheelchair. Doctors told him he might not walk again.

Months of therapy followed: physical therapy for David, psychological therapy for both of them. David and Michele were both suffering post-traumatic stress; David was also fighting a previously-diagnosed case of depression.

Meanwhile, the other driver was charged for driving with ability impaired by drugs. State troopers at the crash scene had described Larry Lindstead as "lethargic" and "moving in slow motion." Jail officers said Lindstead nearly fell asleep during criminal processing, but he still refused to give police a blood sample. A subsequent criminal investigation discovered that Lindstead was under a heavy dose of prescription sedative Xanax, and he also admitted smoking marijuana before the crash.

Lindstead was also charged for vehicular assault and unlicensed operation. The district attorney noted Lindstead had previously lost his license for a similar drugged driving incident in 2012.

A full year of court appearances led to a plea agreement for Lindstead early in 2016. He was to receive a six-month jail sentence, but his behavior following the guilty plea allowed prosecutors to engage a more severe penalty. Lindstead was sentenced Tuesday to 1 to 3 years in state prison, with five years probation after that.

At the sentencing, Lindstead apologized to his victims, but did not name them; in a short statement to the judge, he never acknowledged the drugs in his system, nor the crash. Lindstead was lethargic and slurred his speech at times during the hearing. His stepfather told Time Warner Cable News that Lindstead had stayed awake the prior night, so that he could sleep through his jail processing.

It was the first time that David and Michele Kaye had seen the young man who caused the crash that destroyed their lives.

"When I heard the handcuffs click on (Lindstead in the courtroom), that was very symbolic. It meant there was a closure," David says. "But there are still a lot of unresolved issues for me."

David is openly struggling with retirement, a life he says he was unprepared for. He is limited in his free time by a string of back surgeries that have allowed him to walk, but only slowly, and with a cane.

He also cannot lay down in bed, which leaves him to sleep on the burgundy recliner, not next to his wife of 32 years.

"It's been hard on the marriage," Michele says. "I became the sole caretaker, and the sole bread winner. And I'm not that far from retirement myself. But now I can't."

Michele has acquired a stack of paperwork nearing 20 pounds in weight. The Kaye's have also maxed out several insurance policies, and were unable to sue Lindstead or his family for damages due to a lack of sufficient funds.

Even through the financial troubles, emotional fallout, David's retirement, and spending their days apart from one another, the Kaye's say their marriage is ultimately stronger. 

However,  with so many uncertainties ahead, only one thing is truly clear for David and Michele: drugged driving tears lives apart.

"You don't do it," insists Michele, her voice crackling with anger. "You don't take somebody else's drugs, and you don't drive. "There's a reason why there are labels on medicine bottles when you get them from the pharmacy. it's just for this reason."