New Experiences

Yesterday was full of new experiences. One the one hand, that's great. During my trip to Central America, I realized that my life is made better by both actively and passively experiencing new things. What better way to learn, change, grow? My life in Seattle (Part II) has been significantly improved by this ethos. So, with every new experience, I try to accept it and learn from it--or at least find the humor buried inside.

So, what can I gain from being hit by a minivan while biking, riding two blocks in an ambulance, being in the ER, and needing crutches (all of which are new and exciting)? I'm still not entirely sure. It was all very interesting, totally surreal.

So, as I was strapped to a hard, flat thing and immobilized for at least 45 minutes while in the ER, I had a lot of time to listen to the family next to me. The father had had a bike accident too; he had flown over the handlebars and broken his clavicle, with damage to his ribs and some problem with his left lung. The wife was nagging him to take pain medication, telling him not to bike so fast because that was what caused the accident, that he should have called an ambulance instead of a friend to take him to the hospital. The daughter, nine years old, asked questions about what happened, about vocabulary used by the nurse, and (in whispers) about what had happened to the girl next to them.

I was in the ER for a little over 3 hours. In that time, probably ten different people assisted me in different ways, and I was asked about a current tetanus shot and if I was (or could be) pregnant by each of them.

My bike, which I located about 10 feet behind me after I was coherent enough to remember it, seems to be all right. I asked the many kind, helpful people who clustered around the accident if they knew anything about bikes but no one could really tell me if it was severely injured or not. My roommate rode it home that evening, commenting that the alignment was a little off but that was all that she could see.

The woman who hit me was absolutely distraught and functionally worthless when it came to dealing with the situation but there were several people nearby who directed. Normally, I hate being told what to do by anyone but it was very welcome at that moment. The driver jumped out of the minivan, panicked, and darted around, purposeless, in tight jeans and a short blue tank-top. Weird. I'm glad that I didn't have to talk to her. The paramedics arrived, police, firemen, a group of onlookers. Everyone was talking to me and I couldn't even think. Before too long, they hoisted me up and strapped me down and transported me to Swedish Medical Center about two blocks away. Convenient.

In summary, I have a sprained ankle and several wicked abrasions, mostly on the left side of my body. I don't think I'll feel dorky about wearing a helmet in the future because I don't even want to imagine what would have happened if I hadn't been wearing one--my roommate's, in fact. My entire body aches from the impact and it's very difficult to move around. I feel like a cyborg with the walking boot and a gimp when I crutch around. Once again, it could have been far worse.

I am incredibly grateful to the people who helped, the man with the dachshund who called the necessary authorities, the woman who helped me gather my things from around and under the vehicle. My brother tells me that I get street cred, but does that only apply if I had left the hospital bracelet on? And, really, it's funny. The timing of it, the freakish-accident nature, it's all ironic. And who is unlucky enough to get hit by a car while biking? Let's laugh.