There's that moment. That moment you realize you're fucked. Your wheels are skidding across pavement. You know you've cut it just a little bit too close. A hunk of blue steel is barreling towards your small body and the breaks? They aren't working. And you're one the ground with unexpected people around you asking questions. You stand. Even though it's difficult. You breathe. Even though it's hard. And you start to pick the pieces up from the concrete. A piece of broken plastic trembling in your hands. Do I need this? A woman with a bad pony tail screams you out off this reverie.
"Call the police!"
I look at her. I look at her jeep. I ask, "Is your car alright?"
“CALL THE POLICE!"
I always do what I'm told. So I did it of course. The woman. She wasn't very nice. But I suppose she did hit me with her car. But I felt she could have been a little more forgiving. She did hit me with her car.
A fire truck arrives full of nice firemen. Questions are asked and answered. They try to call an ambulance. I decline. Ambulances are so expensive these days. I sit on the curb in rain. Calculating expenses and trying not to throw up.
The policeman hands me a ticket. My fault. I don't have the wherewithal to argue.
You would think people would try to be a little kinder in these situations. Not so.
As I wait for Rachel to pick me up from the curb I don't know how to feel. Sad I guess. Hurt I suppose. I don't know what to do. I don't know where to stand.
Rachel arrives her car is warm and she shows just the right amount of indignance toward the police man and lady driver. I still feel sick. I'm still shaking and I try to tell myself everything is fine. The night falls quickly. The rain doesn't stop. I find myself at home with an indistinguishable pain pervading my abdomen. I'm okay. I'm not okay. I'm ok. Ok? Ok. I'm not okay. I need to go to the hospital.
Hospital lights and more questions. Internal bleeding? High blood pressure. They are more worried than I am, but at least they're nice about it. Strange shows on Spike tv about terrible tattoos. How many times are they going to put needles in me? The strangest sensation of having your insides on display. That injection.
"You will feel warm all over and you will feel like your peeing yourself. But, don't worry your not"
Oh my god! She's totally right!
Waiting, waiting and more waiting. Trying not to feel sorry for yourself. Trying not to worry about what will happen. Your heart is beating too fast. You can see it on the monitor.
Cat scan says your fine. But doctor wants you to worry first. Like someone announcing the Tony's he adds suspense to his diagnosis.
"We were looking for...we almost had to do surgery...you could have had....(drum roll please) But you don't. Miss Bailey you can go home!"
Great! Unhook me from these strange wires, give me that prescription, and let me stumble home. I need some tea and a good distraction.
