May 2020 Part 2: Ouchie
always wear your helmet
I won’t lie, I was pretty worried about my husband right after his father passed away. I don’t think it’s that unordinary to be concerned. We both went through the motions, his void surely deeper than mine.
When I woke up on Saturday, May 30th, Rob wasn’t home yet. I got ready for my ride around Lake Geneva. I packed my bento with lots of goodies, and made sure to pack my mask and photo ID/credit card in my kit. You never know when you might need to stop somewhere when you’re that far away from home. I gave Rob a call as I was heading out the door, approximately 7am. He was just leaving the office and was pretty excited to get home and zonk for most of the day.
I departed the driveway and headed on my usual route of town. I took my right hand turn on Golf Course Road and tried to get comfortable. My body was still waking up, my back tight from restless sleep.
I glanced my head down to make sure my bento was zipped and the next thing you know, I looked up and there was a Ford F-150 crossing the intersection in front of me, only feet away from my front tire. I slammed on the breaks but it was to late.
It took me a long while to truly relive the moment I made contact with the truck. I guess you could say it was a mild case of PTSD. I was in the designated bike lane and he was attempting to cross an intersection before I had cleared. Considering I had the right of way while he had a stop sign, this doesn’t favor well for him (or me, really). The result ended with my front wheel making contact with the rear passenger door. My left shoulder absorbed most of the impact instantly. All I remember was that I separated from my bike right away and thrown into the air. I landed on my left butt cheek, aka the “sit bone” and rolled across the road.
My fight or flight response took over and as soon as I could grasp my surroundings (after a piercing scream and a few profanities), I bounced up onto my feet right away. OK, this is a good sign. My legs are in tact. I stood in the middle of the road and the reality of what just happened hit me. Megan, you just got hit by a f*cking truck, and you’re standing upright. You’re ok, you’re ok. A nearby lady out for her morning walk saw the whole thing and ran over to me.
Lady: you need to sit down!
Me: I think I’m ok. But, something doesn’t feel right over here. {pointing to my left shoulder with my right hand} Does it look ok?
Lady: Please, please sit down! We’ll get an ambulance right away!
I sat on the curb and cradled my left arm. It was starting to tingle. The nice lady called 911 right away. The man who hit me immediately stopped and didn’t know what to do for me, he was as rattled as I was. The old lady who picks up trash on Golf Course Road, even she stopped to make sure I was ok. And she didn’t leave my side the entire time.
I knew something was wrong with my shoulder, but I also didn’t know how long I’d last before the pain started to take over. So I did the first thing I could think of. I pulled my phone out of my kit and called my husband while sitting on the curb awaiting my ambulance escort.
Rob: {Confused, since we just hung up about 6 minutes ago} Meg, what’s up?
Me: Hey… bad news. {still breathing heavy due to panic} I’m ok… but I just got hit by a car. My shoulder is definitely f*cked up, but other than that I’m fine.
Rob: WHERE ARE YOU?
Me: {Disclose location} Now I need you to do me a favor. I need you to call my parents.
Married for 1 year and 4 days. A week ago we buried his father. Now, he’s got the horrifying job to call his in-laws with this news. I tell ya, this man wins husband of the year award.
