Coming back home from a halloween party in b-burg, I got into a bike accident. It was about 2:30am, and I was by myself, and just several blocks away from my apartment, and i remember feeling good about this commute, bc halloween evening/night has been unseasonably warm, so many clothing layers weren't necessary, and no hat was needed. On top of that, the bike ride was much faster than what taking the train(s) would entail, and cheaper than a cab. I should also mention, that I didn't wear a helmet this time, since i was wearing cat ears part of my halloween kitty look.
Here's a calm and almost meditative version of what happened, without the numerous tears and drama that ensued immediately:
The accident:Just right by Pratt, a car was about to pass me by, or it was already passing by, and I thought (I think) to myself that I should just move over a little bit. So I scooted over to the right, closer to the parked cars on my right hand side, and just before I crashed, I had this clear vision of what was right before me: a nice, new looking white sedan, and it's side mirror sticking out, and my bike heading almost straight for it, and a nanosecond realization that I'm not going to clear it. Then I crashed into it, and ended up on the ground. I remember seeing my frames, but only one half of it remained on my face - it broke right on my face. My bike and I must have been just sprawled right on the street, and an suv pulled up, rolled the windwos down and asked if i was ok. I was crying and said something like 'no'... the woman got out of the passenger side, and the guy pulled over to the other side of the street. Maybe there were more people in the car, but I don't remember. She started to help me get up. She told me that my face is bleeding profusely and got me some napkins from the car. Only then I realized that, as I wiped my face with the gloves i had on, and those became immediately soaked with shiny blood. The napkins were instantly red too. Blood. Everywhere. All over me.
In the meantime, she kept on saying to me several times (and the guy who by then got out too), that they will take me to the hospital. I remember clearly refusing each time, citing that I can't because I don't have insurance. She asked where I live, to which i replied that i live down the street, a few blocks down. She told me to call someone, bc I shouldn't be alone when i get home. I need assistance, she said. I called my roommate. She was staying somewhere else that night, and I couldn't get her to come back that night. I called
him several times to no avail. Resigned, and still standing, I said I will go home. She walked me 2 blocks down, the guy just coasted the car right beside us on the street. I remember thanking her for stopping to help me. Numerous times. She kept on saying that I would do the same if I ever saw anyone in my state, especially. It didn't look good, at all. As she was leaving I shouted to her with whatever energy i had, and through my crying, what is her name? It's Kayla, or Keileen, or something like that. So, Thank you K for all your concern and help. Perfect strangers are sometimes my best friends.
I got home, mysteriously finding the strength to carry my bike up the stairs. I was inside now, crying histerically the whole time, and remember thinking if my neighbors are awake and can hear me. I was sort of hoping to find another soul around. I really couldn't (not to mention didn't want to) be alone right now. I want someone who can think rationally around me. I want to collapse. Blood was all over me. My black scarf was even soaked, becoming a weird shade of brown.
Mirror.Blood and open wounds. Seeing my face, bloody red, was so scary. This can't be happening. Cuts everywhere. This is so not good. Especially now. There's never a good time for this, but especially not now. My face is gone. My face is cut up and cut open, scraped, all along my nose ridge, my chin, my lower forehead. My knee. Are all my teeth okay? This can't be happening. Please let this be just a bad fucking dream. I want to wake up. I want to wake up. I want someone else here. Anyone else, please just be here. I want to snap out of this nightmare.
I have a new job on Monday. Fuck.
Dark towel soaked in freezing cold water. Cleaning up my face. Wiping the blood away. Wiping my streaming tears away. I am my own fucking nurse. Where is anyone? More tissues. Blood in my mouth. Spitting blood. Blowing my nose, more blood. Just blood. I am breathing out blood.
I manage to put band aids all over my face. I now literally have a mask on. Made out of band aids.
Morning:Wake up in a mix pain and numbness. My numbness actually hurt. It's super early. Where is anyone? That was a bad dream, right? Did this actually happen? It did. I think so. My face doesn't feel
right. Mirror again. I'm wearing a mask. This is NOT me. Who is this?
Roommate gets home, and just now realizes what I was saying on the phone last night. I start to cry. She's so very sympathetic. Gosh, I wish I saw her last night. I call my sister, she'll be over soon. I'm having a breakdown the entire time pretty much. Not only this but other issues are just adding fuel to the fire, and are even stealing the spotlight. Which is more important? What really matters at this point? How do I switch over to just me? It's not so easy. I just simply can't.
Bandaids come off. Cuts. My face is not really my face. I'm having a continuous breakdown. I need to do this. My sister comes over... can't believe this. We will go to NJ to recuperate and let my mom take care of me for the day & night. Yes, let's do that. What about the other stuff? Everything just seems so wrong. Things are just pointing me to that conclusion. No response. Not one. I need to check. I am forcing myself to just become numb, mentally, to what I'm thinking. My thoughts are so bad. Dark. Unthinkable. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe that I'm thinking that, almost certain. I can't believe all this stuff is just so wrong. I can't help myself or anyone else at this point. It's too late. I get calmer as we get nearer to midtown. I'm mentally preparing myself for facing the reality. I become almost robotic, and try to become number, for what I'm trying to prepare myself for. I can't believe this is where my life has brought me. This is the lowest of the low situations i'm about to face.
I get in. I'm in the building. Slowly, step after step, I begin to ascend. 2nd floor. I am completely oblivious to the smells today. This can't be happening. Halfway up to the 3rd floor, I notice my heartbeat is raging. It's galloping. It's in overdrive.
4th floor. This is it. This is it.
This is it.
Neighbor's apt emits sounds. I take my hat off to hear better. Where is it coming from? Maybe I'm wrong. This apt is emitting sounds. Am i hallucinating? Is this a joke? Yes, i think it's
the apt that has sounds on the inside. What is going on?
This can't be happening.
I knock...
Nothing.
I wait...
Sounds! Doorhandle activity on the other side...
I don't know what is going on.... This, on top of everything else, is so surreal.
I'm dreaming....
The hospital:Drive to s.i. No insurance. I need to take care of this. Regardless of the $ outcome. It's me, my face, my wellbeing. I need to do this.
Stares of other waiting room people.
Admitting person - triage, etc: she's not an expert, but nose looks broken. great. she extends me her sympathies. great.
Registration: possibility of sliding scale fees, but not sure. I can't quite think straight by now. Everything is overwhelming. He takes notes, and they both ask questions that i should be asking. I'm so glad that both of them are here.
Waiting room. Talk of cell phones & emails. A southeast asian man, a monk? - dressed in saffron colored robes, similar ones to those in Laos & Thailand, is sitting near us. He can hear us. What is he thinking about? Does he have the same worries? Of cell phones and emails? I can't help but wonder.
X-ray. Entire room dedicated to an x-ray machine. Huge vents coming in and out of the walls and celings. Venting sounds of ventilation. Breathing. Ceiling rails, everything is movable and adjustable. Is that like life? Is everything adjustable? Lead blanket to protect my ovaries from radiation. I wonder if I will even ever need them at this point. I'm sitting there motionless, my face about an inch away from a screen with a grid on it. It's the background for the x-ray, measurements, etc. I cannot see what's going on behind me. It's quiet. Is this what it must feel like to be shot in the back of head? It can be anticipated, but you just don't know when it's coming. Maybe it should just come already. I dont recall experiencing such wide range of all these thoughts in such a close timeframe ever before. I am anticipating to be shot in the back of my head. I am calm.
Nothing happens. I survive. I am almost disappointed.
Waiting area inside the ER department. Doctor Maria something comes out to talk to me. She's pretty good looking, dark hair, dark eyebrows and a really nice full face. Results are in. Only I can prevent forest fires. Broken nose. Here's what could happen, but not sure yet. Too much swelling. I should do a CAT scan. Have I experienced lighheadedness? Vomiting? Nausea? Bleeding? No, but I think I will take her up on the offer now. I'm getting lightheaded. Everything is spinning an fading to black. Stretcher. No. Yes, they didn't wheel it out here for nothing. How will i pay for all this? I cannot afford any of this. But it's my wellbeing. My wellbeing is stressing me out and is pretty much unaffordable to me. I need health insurance. How is it that all of a sudden i am becoming the face of all those 'do you have trouble paying so and so and so and so and so bills? do you have trouble sleeping at night just worrying? I am well on my way there. A far away distant country with minimal technological infrastructure is looking better and better and better by the minute.
Waiting.
My male nurse comes around. Nurse Chris. Tall, slim, light hair and beard, overall good looking, and in very good spirits. He brings me Vicodin, a pain reliever and infection reducer. He knows his ibeuprofen from his tylenols and aleves. Is he being almost flirtacious with me? No way, I am looking rather beastly today. Anything today is a sympathy vote, seriously. I think he's just really friendly. At some point later on he also administers a Tetanus shot into my right arm. It should be had once every 10 years. I'm pretty sure I had it about 2-3 years ago, before asia. I was very adamant about being up to date with my shots.
Waiting.
Big guy with tatooed flabby arms comes around, with a wheelchair. I think he said his name is Tom. Or he reminds me of Tom Spina. I can walk I said. No, I must be wheeled, he says. Ok, fine with me. On the way there, I ask him why I couldn't just walk to the CAT scan place. It's because if I fall, they'd be liable... as i'm weak and unstable at the moment. How does one become a cat-scan person? it's a 2 yr technical school degree, or even a certificate. But he's not one. He's a student, but is working here as a 'transporter'. Jason Statham style, but less glamorous. Much less glamourous.
Cat-Scan:
Table, movable. I lay on my back. My head is in a special groove, so I can't move it. I can technically, but I really hsouldn't, otherwise it'll screw up the results.
I an slid in. Weird mechanical operating sounds. A strip of a window all around me. My eyes are exploring while my head dare not move. Red beam. Something is moving. Turning rotating. I can think of a scene of 2001 Space Oddysey, or something straight out of NASA. My table keeps slowly moving in and out. the camera's are spinning, slower, faster, stopping, repositioning. I want to do this more often. Can I get a cat-scan machine for my apartment? i love it. I'm having thoughts of outerspace. x-files. david duchovny. californication. sex. no, wait, not that. david duchovny circa x-files. I am having an out of my body experience. I've entered the twilight zone. I try to catch a sight of the label and see where it's made. I bet it's japanese or german engineering. This is so sci-fi. A laser that sees through your brain. Unbelievable. Addictive. I want more.
Upon exiting and getting back up and into the wheelchair, I see that it's made primarily of plastic, and has a huge GE logo on it, in the ge script typeface. i remember that the logo was designed in 1898 or late 1800 at least, and it's pretty much stayed the same.
Vicodin is making me sleepy. Or maybe the lack of sleep is making me sleepy.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
Can't eat anything yet.
Waiting for results of cat-scan.
agh.
Vending machine.
Disappointment.
Hopelessness.
Resignation.
Doctor Smith showed up. Reminded me of Laurie Metcalf, that's her name at least, i think, who played the sister of Roseanne on the show. She said she broke her nose 3 times. So it's really nothing. Prescriptions, notes, printouts, cd of cat-scan results, agh.
Agh.
Jersey.
