Thursday, March 19, 2009

Lucky

On Memorial Day of 2001, I was rollerblading on the greenbelt with my friend Alex. I decided that I wanted to race him, and prove to him once and for all how much better I was on skates than he was. Unfortunately for me, I turned my head back to gloat about this to him. This is when I hit the frost heave on the greenbelt.

The next thing I remember is sitting on the ground next to the greenbelt trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. I felt some kind of warm liquid running down my face and the side of my neck. I touched it with my fingertips looked at it; it was red, so I realized it must be blood. I took off my ballcap and touched my head (that hurt tremendously, I remember that part very clearly). I could also vaguely hear my friend Alex shouting something at me, but I was having a hard time figuring out what it was he wanted to know, and I was annoyed that he kept repeating himself. Couldn't he see that I was clearly trying to form a sentence to ask him what he wanted? Finally, after he asked the same question at least four times, I was able to gather that he wanted to know if I was ok.

"Sure," I said. "I'm fine. Give me just a second here and we can go. I just need to rest a minute."

Alex responded that he didn't think it was a good idea.

"Why?" I asked. "I'm a little banged up but I'll be fine."

"No," he responded. "Blood is spurting out of your head. I do not think you should rollerblade back."

In the meantime, a kind couple who were biking on the greenbelt stopped and offered to help. The woman took her sweatshirt and used it to soak up the blood from my head (it kept running into my eyes). Needless to say, the sweatshirt was ruined.

After my husband Nick (now ex) arrived to pick us up, we went to the hospital. The nurses asked me how it happened. I told them what I thought at the time was a hilarious joke. I pointed to my ex-husband and my friend Alex and said "They did it! They were trying to kill me and they stuck a stick out in front of me while I was skating!" The response was gasps from Alex and Nick, and straight, serious faces from the nurses. I learned later that I was in shock. Apparently making dumb jokes is one of the symptoms.

I had to get twelve staples in my head, and my elbow bone was bruised (I still sport a scar there), I had a headache for about three days. I had trouble ordering garlic breadsticks the next day at a restaurant (apparently I kept asking for garlic instead of garlic breadsticks and couldn't figure out why the waitress kept asking if I was sure that I really wanted a raw clove of garlic), but otherwise I came out just fine.

In June of 2006, I was riding my bike with a couple of people I know. The last thing I remember was skipping a song on my cd player. The next thing I remember after that was waking up in an ambulance. I saw one of my friends wave and shut the door. Then the paramedic started asking me questions. What's your name, how old are you, where are we, who's your daddy (haha ok another dumb joke). When he asked me what year it was, I couldn't answer. I could not for the life of me figure out what year it was.

I cannot tell you how frightening it is to not know what year it is.

I do not remember the ride to the hospital. Nor do I remember the nurse who scolded me repeatedly for not wearing a helmet.

I do remember a headache and feeling sick to my stomach. I remember my friend telling me a dog joke that he had told me at least three times already (but the thought was nice).

I didn't have to get any staples this time. But they did do a couple of MRI's or CT scans or whatever they are, to make sure I was ok. I had a little trouble with stuttering for a few months after that. It was mild enough that no one noticed except for me. Even now if I try to speak too fast or get too excited about something I tend to slurr my 's' a bit. Other than that,I am ok.

Either I have a rock hard skull or I am a very lucky person. I fell twice and hit my head right smack on concrete, and came out pretty much unscathed. It is astonishing to me that Natasha Richardson can have such a simple fall on the bunny hill and not survive.

Her loss is a loss to us all. It is very tragic and sad.

As for me, I consider myself very lucky to still be alive.

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