I had already biked home from work the week before. So, I knew exactly how much time I would need to get to work. Thursday morning rolls around and I realize that I have woken up late. I rush to get ready for work. Wake up the boy and threaten him if he doesn't make the bus. I get on my bike 15 minutes past the time I wanted to leave the house. I put the peddles to the medal. I am flying and making great time. It's a little chili outside, but this gives me more incentive to ride hard. Surprisingly I make it work at the time I had anticipated arriving even after leaving late. Yahoo. I put my face and hair together in the bathroom and I am feeling really good about what I have just accomplished.
I go home at lunch to find that my TEENAGE OFFSPRING has missed the bus. Surprise, Surprise. After some yelling and a lot of drama I am back to work. All that I can think of to get through the day is riding my bike home from work, and of course having a beer.
It is a beautiful day for a bike ride or for just being outside in general. As I leave work I call SOGS and arrange to meet her for a beer. A bike ride, sunshine, and beer, what more could a person ask for.
I strap on my helmet and backpack and take off. I am flying down the road feeling stoked about what is up ahead. I cross the street at an intersection and see up ahead a big Black Ram Dodge Truck waiting to pull out of the parking lot. I slow down for what seems to be a quit a while. The truck has tinted windows. So, I couldn't make full eye contact. I sit there for a couple of minutes and truck doesn't move. At this point the driver had to see me. She is waiting for me, I know it. I take off in front of the truck and I am directly in front of it.
Then I hear it........Vrrrrrooooomm................She guns it. Instantly I am hit by the truck. It takes me down, my bike going under the truck, the whole time I am screaming "Fuck, Shit!!!" and other obscenities. I hit the ground and the truck stops. (Thank God!!) As I hit the ground my ankle slams into the cement and the handle bars go into the side of my abdomen. I role away from my bike into the middle of the street. I don't even get a chance to get up and I am surrounded my at least 5 people.
I am still screaming obscenities, "SHIT, FUCK, MY ANKLE." I hear the driver on the phone to the police. I still haven't opened my eyes and I yell out, "I THOUGHT YOU SAW ME. FUCK, IT'S JUST MY ANKLE." I finally open my eyes and look down. To my surprise my foot is still in tacked. Since it hurt so bad I thought the worse. I take off my helmet and backpack and sit up. Just then the police come to the scene of the accident. They help me out of the middle of the street.
The ambulance and cute fire fighters also come to my rescue. One of the them convince me to take a ride in the ambulance. Turns out I have a crack in my distal Fibula. Which explains the excruciating amount of pain. I have a splint on my foot now and I have an appointment to get a cast put on tomorrow.
Of course it has been beautiful and warm out and I have been stuck inside all drugged up on pain meds. Today is the first day I haven't taken any. However it looks like my biking days are over for a little bit.
But all I have to say is THANK GOD I DID NOT BECOME A PERMANENT HOOD ORNAMENT.
1 comment:
holy crap, that's scary! i'm glad you're (relatively) ok!!!
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