Wednesday, March 12, 2014

(Almost) Hit By a Car

I had lots and lots of jobs when I was at BYU, but only one of them was off campus. I worked at a call center down University Avenue, almost to Orem, and I rode my bike there each morning and rode back to campus at noon when I got off. Surprisingly, working at a call center wasn't my favorite job of all time, and I was always excited and ready to leave at noon. I was also working two other jobs at that time, as well as taking a full load of classes, so it was always nice to ride my bike away from work, knowing that even though the rest of the day would be super busy, I wouldn't have to come back to this job until tomorrow. Strangely enough, even though the ride there was downhill and the ride back was uphill, the way there always seemed to take a lot more effort than the way back!

One day I was riding back to campus, having completed another day of call center fun. I was riding my bike on the sidewalk/jogging/biking path next to the road, when all of a sudden a car pulled out of a hidden driveway, right in to my path. I swerved off the path and on to the shoulder to avoid the car, but when I tried to hop back on to the pathway my tire caught on the sidewalk's edge and I flipped forward and flew through the air. I distinctly remember thinking "twist your body so you don't break your arm or your nose!" before I crashed on the ground.

After a couple of seconds of lying on the ground, I sat up and slowly unbuckled my helmet. There was blood all over and I was in a lot of pain, but luckily I hadn't broken anything. I had a pretty nasty cut on my chin, had scratches on my forearm, and my flip-flop had broken off my foot and was lying down the pathway a bit, but other than that, nothing. Whatever I did in the air to twist my body was pretty impressive--whoever heard of someone getting in a bike wreck and landing only on their chin and forearm?

In my dazed state, my first thought was, "How in the world am I going to ride back to campus with a broken shoe? I'll just have to ride home and change my shoes and put a bandaid on this bleeding chin." I turned around to see if the person in the car who had almost hit me had a bandaid, but the car was EMPTY. Still sitting in the middle of the path and still running, but NO DRIVER. This story was starting to get exciting--I had now been involved in an almost-hit and run!

Irritated that the driver would just jump out of his/her car without even checking to see if I was ok, I started inspecting my bike to see if it was rideable when all of a sudden a large truck pulled over and three men in their mid-60's poked their heads out. "Are you ok?" they shouted.

"Umm, yeah, I just, uh, fell off my bike," I answered, trying to keep the blood dripping off my chin from getting all over my shirt.

"Did that car hit you?" one of them asked, and then realized there was no driver. "Hey, where'd the driver go?"

"Here, get in and we'll take you to the hospital," one of them offered.

Wondering if there was that much blood, I told them, "Oh no, I just live down the street. I'm just going to go home and get a bandaid."

"No, we aren't going to let you just ride your bike home in that state. Here, we'll throw your bike in the back of the truck and take you to the hospital."

I protested to no avail. They were bent on taking me to the hospital. So finally I just asked if they could take me to the BYU Health Center, thinking that I could just wash the blood off there. And surely they would have some bandaids that I could have. So they threw my bike in the back and I climbed in the truck (one of the men had to get out and wait there for his friends, since there were only three seats in the truck!) and they took me to the health center. 

I'm sure I was quite a sight with blood dripping from my chin, but I think my broken flip-flop was the worst part. Because the part that joined the top to the bottom had broken of, I had the flip flop on my foot but couldn't lift it and had to drag it. Worse, the flip flops were made of wood, so they were extra loud.

Flip Draaaaag. Flip Draaaaaaaaag. Flip Draaaaag. As I walked in to the Health Center everyone turned and stared. Not wanting to make a scene, I got in line to wait for the two people in front of me to finish with their emergencies, trying to nonchalantly cover my bleeding chin, pretending like everyone walks around in broken shoes and with bloody hands covering their chin.

Just then, one of the men who gave me a ride walked in. He had locked my bike up and then had come inside to make sure I was ok. "What are you doing, standing in line?" he asked. Then he loudly announced, "This woman has an emergency! She just got hit by a car!" I tried to duck my head and pretend like he was talking about someone else. After all, what's a little bit of blood on my chin? But he was having none of it. "Go over to the emergency section," he said, and then waited until I was talking to a nurse before he left.

I flip-draaaged over to the emergency section, all eyes on me. "Uh, hi," I said. "Do you have a bandaid?" Just then all of the adrenaline and awkwardness of the situation hit me, and I started to cry. "I'm sorry," I sobbed. "I just need a bandaid. And maybe a bathroom so I can wash the blood off." The nurse looked at me, pathetically weeping with a broken shoe and blood all over my face and hands, and directed me to follow her. She led me down the hall to a room with a sink near the door and gave me a container, lots of gauze, cleansing agents, and some triple antibiotic ointment. "You can clean up here," she said. "Do you think you need stitches?"

By this time I had gotten control of my emotions. "No, no, I think I'll be fine," I said. After she left I looked at myself in the mirror. I really did look like I had just been hit by a car. I avoided the mirror until I had finished cleaning up. Feeling much better (but still flip-draaaging everywhere I went), I went back out to the nurse. "Do I need to pay for...that stuff?" I asked awkwardly. "Oh no, don't be silly," she said. "I hope it heals quickly."

"Thanks," I said, as I flip-draaaged my way out of there.

3 comments:

  1. Somehow, I don't remember this one. And I LOVE it.

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  2. What a terrible story! Wasn't there also a story about you stapling your pants or something?

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  3. Oh yes. I'll have to write about that one later.

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