Crash

Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out (scarred), and proclaiming, "Wow, what a ride!!!"

My Mom sent me a card with that little quote in it after spending the afternoon with me in the ER Thursday -- I added the (scarred) part -- I thought it was perfect and totally depicts the philosophy I'm trying to adopt. It's funny, because when I made that List of Things I Like, last week, I included "interesting scars" on there...looks like I'll have about five more interesting scars.

So, what the heck happened? Good frickin' question. I was blading home (sans any music), a block from my place, and I decided to go down the street before mine so that I could go up my street, stretching out my trip a little longer and getting some road blading in. Then, well, then I'm not quite sure, I think I started to skid in one direction and I went to regain control and then BAM! I'm pretty positive my head hit the pavement first with my knee following shortly after and then my hands and shoulder as I rolled. I ended up in a sitting position, somehow.

The only thing I can really remember thinking when it happened was "Oh my God, here we go, I'm fucking up my face, neat." When I've fallen in the past I try to move on quickly telling all people who stop to inquire that I'm OK. This time I sat there, blood dripping everywhere calling out for help before deciding to stand up to make sure I had all my parts and get out my cellphone.

It was surreal when the blood poured down my face completely blocking out my right eye. It was so warm and bright and totally could not be my blood. As I wiped the mysterious blood from the screen of my cellphone, a guy on his porch asked if I needed anything:
Whoa. Are you OK?
Um, No.
Can I get you something?
Um, sure.
What do you need?
The only thing that was really bothering me was the hot, red, stuff trickling over everything so I asked him for a towel. At the same time a lady pulled up in her car asking if she should call an ambulance and some guys who I believe were doing maintenance on the house I crashed in front of started talking to me too. I reached my Dad on my phone and he told me to go to Urgent Care (which I thought I might rollerblade to) unless I needed stitches. I turned to my crowd of onlookers:
Do you guys think I'll need stitches??
Yes.
Probably..
Oh definitely.
I told my Dad that it was pretty unanimous that I would need stitches and that it wasn't that bad, but they say it's just a lot of blood. He told me to get to the Emergency Room. Now, I know ambulances are FOR trips to the Emergency Room, I just DID NOT think it was necessary. Luckily, one of the gentlemen who I believed to be working on the house I was in front of offered to give me a ride. I know you shouldn't take rides from strangers, however, I gladly accepted and promised to do my best to control the red stuff.

In the gentleman's truck I was given a pack of frozen vegetables wrapped in another towel for my head from someone I apparently did not see who lived on the street. After I was dropped off at the ER entrance and rolled through the front door on my blades, another Good Samaritan, who was just there waiting to see her grandmother, got me a wheelchair, pushed me to the check-in and kept me company while I waited AND WAITED.

Once again, I just want to say HOW INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL I AM for the compassion, the advice, the ride, the towels, and the frozen veggies all from complete strangers. THANK YOU.

The ER was a whole scene in and of itself, from Dr. McDreamy stitching me up to a bit of hysterical laughter about the "pain scale" and finally to me busting myself out with a hospital gown wrapped around me three times to cover my butt. Ah, but alas, I am getting rather sleepy and tomorrow I do have an interview (for just a job job to get me through for a while) and I have to call back a company whose number is on a bloody post-it note (it was posted to the screen of my cellphone before the crash) and I haven't even gotten to the best part where Doug and his family were exceptional and took excellent care of me over the weekend, making me forget that I was all messed up.

Bottom line is this: 10 stitches, a few scars, no broken bones, no concussion. Also, I am planning on getting some protective gear as I will be rollerblading ASAP, and I would additionally like to note that I am mad enough about this whole thing as it is and I cannot imagine what it would be like if a person had done this to me as opposed to me (and maybe the road) causing this ordeal. Doug and I joked about strangers giving us looks like we were a domestic abuse case, but I honestly feel that the reality of domestic abuse is not a laughing matter. Alright, I am stepping down from my soap box, curling into my bed, and crossing my fingers that my knee goo does not fuse to anything in the middle of the night.

Thanks to everyone for all of the concern!

Sincerely,

Crash