Today I got into a bicycle road accident. I was zooming downhill, the front brakes seized, the front wheel seized, and I flew over the steering bar, pulling the bicycle behind me in the air.

I fell by landing first on my left forarm, then my elbow, then my left back upper.

I was in so much pain that all I could do is groan. Breathing was hard.

People gathered. One lady offered a glass of water, I said, yes please. After that I could talk more than just two words between each two inhalation of air. Everyone suggested I move to the sidewalk; no, I said, I am relatively okay here, I don't want to move. Call an ambulance instead, please.

A woman came and said that I should have had lights and a bell, and brakes should be on the bicycle, and not around it on the pavement. I gave her the international sign of "Please stop", which is not the bird, but a straight palm, facing her, with my fingers closed. She did shut up.

I was sitting there now, and a man asked me what they could do for me; I said, please call my dentist (I gave the office name) and cancel my appointment. He went and did. Another woman came through, walking her dog, and she said I should wear a helmet. She said that three years ago she got into an accident, and the helmet saved her. She said she could be in a coma. Instead, she said, she had three months of migraines. I said, I'd choose the coma over migraines, no helmet for me. Others heard this and went aghast. She said I could die. I said, that's fine with me. A short discussion formed over the pro and cons of living vis-a-vis dying. The ambulance came. The senior of the two ambulance attendants, a woman, tall and very good looking, asked me to tell her what happened. It was still hard for me to talk, but I started to say what happened, when she asked me another question. I said, do you not want me to tell you the answer to the first question? I said I was one sentence into it when you interrupted me. She said, well,... the other person, a guy, said, "we want short answers." I said, "I fell down." The woman checked the bruise, and did not tell me what she saw. I still don't know what I look in the back.

She asked if my leg hurt. No, I said. I described, very slowly, to her, how I fell, and said that I very likely bruised my muscle on the back, and broke some ribs. This is when she looked at the skin on my back.

They asked me if I had some new pain in the back. I said, yes. Then they lifted me up, after I warned them I was heavy, 210 lbs.

They put me on the stretcher, I screamed, and they put me in a sitting position. Then the guy wanted to put a seat-belt over my left shoulder, on the side I fell on. I screamed in pain, said, "plese don't put that seat belt on." He said I can't have pain there, because the seat belt has no weight. I said, you are telling me what I feel, and what I can't feel? Then I turned to the woman, and said, "humans are funny, they can only feel their own pain, no human has ever been able to feel exactly what another felt, we are islands in this sense." (Not in these words.) I said, to state categorically what a different person feels as a fact, despite that pained person's individual subjective account of it, is crazy and non-sens0ical. The guy said, again, "you can't have felt pain there." I turned to the woman, "You heard what I just said?" Then the guy said, "man, you're being extremely difficult." I said, I don't want the belt; they said, it's the law, they have to put it on me. The guy said again something insulting, so I said to the woman, "that's it, I am not going to ride this ambulance with you. Get this fing guy outta my face. Please send me another ambulance." She said they couldn't do that. I said, then please help me off here, I am not going anywhere with this f goof. She asked me what I was going to do, I screamed expletives, and that I'll do somehting. They got me in a standing position again. For some reason my slippers were in my hand (croc imitations). I was in agony, the guy, that is, the ambulance attendand said something again, and I threw the right slipper at him, but missed him big time, and I screamed in agony. I can't tell you wheather I felt more angry, insulted, in physical pain, or in mental anguish for having to endure such huge stupidity in people.

So he said, you just assaulted me. I said, you f, the shoe never even came near you. He said it's still assault. I said, call the cops. Then I asked the woman to hand me back the slipper. She did.

I started to walk off, ever so slowly, still in pain, and I threw expletives at him. This is a town in a peaceful country, where people are nice, and nobody calls anyone's mother a f c, but I did to this guy. I walked on, for a good hundred or two hundred feet, and found a bench in front of a babtist church there. I sat down there.

Because expletives in this town are connected to criminal behaviour, the crowd has cleard by then.

A woman came past, walking her dog, and asked if I was all right. I said, not at all. She said, where do I live, etc. I said, I am in extreme pain, I'll answer her questions if the pain subsides; bring me please two pills, of any pain killer kind, and two muscle relaxants.

She said, she will take her dog, and see what she can do. She never came back.

I was sitting on that bench, with my feet going numb, because all seats and benches are always too high off the ground, and even bus seats cut the circulation in my thighs. Another woman walked up, and I told her: pain killer, water, muscle relaxant. I gave her twenty bucks and she brough these, in two trips. In the interval between her first and second trips, after the pain killers but before the muscle relaxants, I finally was able to stand up, on my own, to stretch my legs. I helped myself up by grabbing on to two water battles, and pushing my weight off the bench with the help of the height of the bottles. (People: In Canada Midol is half as expensive as a Muscle relaxant, and does the job the same way, just as good, for both men and women) Then the woman returned and we talked. I thought I was lucky, I could somehow convince her that I was not a criminal, but a very pained person. She saw that. She offered to drive me home, wherever I lived. I said, only if she accepts twenty bucks gas money. She wouldn't hear of it, I said then I simply won't have her drive me home.

A woman, who brought me water while I was still on the pavement, had taken in my bike. I remembered having my knapsack on the back of it, and then before we took off, I asked my driver if we could retreive the knapsack. This was an other excellent opportunity to show how nice I am generally, and explained to the bicycle-keepers' husband why exactly I was screaming expletives at the ambulance guy. The driver was getting her daughter in the meantime, to come with us.

The three of us then drove to my place. The driver lady had made me a sandwich, it was excellent. I was very hungry, too, because I hadn't had anything to eat or drink for about 12-14 hours, seeing I was heading into surgery. Mouth surgery, to pull a tooth, which had had a crown which had fallen off, and the tooth remains have been overgrown and engulfed by my gum.

So we get home, the conversation was good, very nice, we were all impressed, the daughter even warmed up to me by the first third of the trip (about six miles driving in total, maybe less). The driver was in her early sixties, the daughter, twenties maybe. I slipped the twenty to her, she protested again, and I said in light banter to her daughter, "your mother drives a hard bargain."

I came home, sat down, and now after 4 tylenols adn 4 midols in my house, (over four hours) I feel tolerable. I feel extreme pain only when I want to stand up, sit down, or when I caugh. The caugh is the worst.

I asked the concierge in my building if he knows someone who can shop food for me. (My fridge is completely empty.) He said, no, they are not allowed. So I called a taxi company, they said, no, they don't do that. Finally I called my pharmacist, who has a delivery company. I asked him for the company's number. They came in, took my list of what I want. I asked them how much is delivery' they said five bucks. I said, yes, but you have to go shopping, so here's twenty bucks for ya, for shopping and delivery, and here's sixty bucks for the items on the list: three loaves of raisin bread, two packages of cooked ham, two packages of baloney, a carton of coffee cream, and maybe some chocolate-covered peanuts, but only if covered by milk chocolate.

They took off, I mingled for a while on another forum here, and now I am writing this.

Again: No prayers, pease, please, pretty please. No well-wishes willed, but if given, I'll reluctantly acknowledge and thank them.

How about just a nod of acknowledgement that that royally s*cks, Drew?

Heal quickly.

TL

'K, babe.

Hope you feel better real soon Drew..

I really think you should have your head examined... No reason for verbally abusing the ambulance tech over dumb questions... He's just doing his job man!

How's that for sympathy? Cheers!

John, ya da man!!! You did not call me Drew. I patently hate that name, and when someone calls me that name. I hate "Drew" even more than "Andy".

I am Wux, but my Christian name is Andrew. Please call me Wux.

--- I am not angry at those who called me Drew here. "Hate the sin, and love the sinner." Just please call me Wux in the future.

It is of course not a sin to call me Drew. I just wanted to make the point that I actualy don't hate those who call me that, but I really hate the names "Drew" and "Andy". "Andrew" is fine, but much better aorund here would be "Wux".


(GRRR!!!)

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Thanks, Silverfoxy lady!

Awwwwwww.
Felicitations :-)

Thanks, Sou... at this point in my health, I could not properly value solicitations.

You always know what to say.

I just got this joke.

I am usually quicker.

Maybe I should get it examined.

The delivery people just left. I am going to log off now, and sink my teeeth into an open-faced raisin-bread and bologna sammich.

Okay, Wux. I take the blame. I started calling you Drew but you know it's a term of endearment. I will stop immediately and start referring to you as Snookums from now on. JK.

Damn. That's worse than my day.

There's a line in a song, "desperately in need of a strangers hand,
in a desperate land".

We all become that person in need or that stranger at some time in our lives.

Wow tough day Hope tomorrow goes better,

Ahh the beauty of mingleland.
Always a worse story :-)

Got mayo????

Really he likes to be referred to as "Wux The Greatest Sex God of the North". That's his Norse name of course.

Andrew is probably going to kill me now. Watch out. LOL.

True, true.

The phoenix has risen! Wux is alive again!!

Thanks for taking my peculiar tastes in stride.

Ruth... thanks. From you, this is big.