I went for a little bike ride today, the first one since I got hit. At first I was going to walk to the store, then I realized part of the reason I was going to walk was because I was a little bit askeered to ride my bike. So I decided to ride my bike. Brendan and I both got new helmets yesterday, so my tender noggin was protected, have no fear.
As I was riding, I thought about how accidents really suck. You can be doing everything right, riding safely, with headlight and taillight flashing, not running a single red light like all those other bicyclists you see, and out of the blue you get hit. And you can't even remember anything about it to know whether or not you could have done anything to avoid it.
I don't know who called 911. I don't know if someone had to pull me off the road or if I was able to move myself. The first thing I remember is a state of semi-consciousness in the ambulance. I was totally disoriented. Had no idea what day it was or what I had been doing or what was happening. An EMT asked me if I'd been drinking. (I hadn't. Remember? I was on my way home from work.)
By the time I was in the hospital, I remembered it was Thursday night/Friday morning and that I had been on my way home from work and that I had better call Brendan ASAP because he was probably freaking out. They scanned my head and X-rayed my arm (it's not broken) and I puked and worried about my glasses (they came through unscathed!). And then I got to go home and I spent the next two days sleeping. And now I'm mostly okay. I'm even picking at my scabs, that's how okay I am (okay, was picking at my scabs--I'm a good girl and I stopped because Brendan got really grossed out).
Moral of the story: Auto wins, but in a totally jerky way, so I'll still vote bicycle every time.
