All of a sudden, I was on the ground, a stream of curses flowing as fast as the tears. I was yelling at the white Jeep that just hit me, throwing me off my bike. I hollered at the driver “what the f#@&*^%! are you doing?” I paused for a moment when I realized my phone was still within reach on my bike’s handlebar mount. I wanted to call Andy. Crying and cursing, I dialed and said, “I just got hit by a car.” I wanted him there.
I couldn’t believe what just happened. I’ve been riding my bike all my life, in all sorts of conditions, including chaotic, urban streets. I’m a safe and defensive rider and have always felt confident that I would stay safe. I’ve had a few close calls before, and even a couple of wipe-outs, but I never imagined that I’d get hit by a car. It didn’t feel real.
People started to gather around me. One man wanted to help me in the worst way, but there wasn’t much for him to do. He wanted to make sure I was okay. He wanted to move me off the street. I wanted to wait for Andy. Oddly, he wanted to keep pouring water on my skinned and rapidly swelling knee. I asked him to stop because he was using up my drinking water! Another woman stopped and called 911. An impatient commuter started beeping at the Jeep so she could get out of the parking lot. I wanted to tell her, “Calm down! I just got hit by a car-my day is not going as planned either! Why can’t you take a minute out of your routine to wait and make sure all is well instead of impatiently blasting your horn?” All I could think was don’t disturb the “crime scene”. Don’t let the Jeep drive away. Get a picture. Get his license plate. It was a jumble of thoughts and tears. But the guy who was pouring water on my knee (still…), moved my bike and let the Jeep move out of the way for the impatient commuter. Luckily, Jeep guy did not leave the scene. He stayed over by his Jeep, making calls on his cell phone. He never said one word to me. He never apologized for running me and my bike over. He never gave any indication that he was sorry.
Quickly, the police and paramedics started arriving. I repeated my story over and over to each person. I was riding northbound on the bike path. The Jeep was stopped at the stop sign, I attempted to make eye contact, and then proceeded. The jeep hit the gas just when I got in front of it. It seemed to happen in slow motion, but I could not prevent it. I watched as the Jeep mangled my bike while I was tangled underneath it, my legs getting contorted and banged up as it twisted under the force of the Jeep. My elbow, hip and knee hit the concrete with a hard impact.
That split second changed my day. I had just been feeling invincible-on top of the world. In the next minute, I was sitting in the street, in tears, in pain and unable to move my knee.
The paramedics were asking me questions and checking me over while the policeman was assuring me that cases don’t get any more clearcut than this scenario. I was in a marked crosswalk. The Jeep had a stop sign. He reassured me that it would be clear in his report that the driver was 100% at fault. That’s great. Except that I was lying in the street, broken, next to my Team Phoenix bike, which was mangled on the side of the road. (Andy’s line is, “how does it feel to be right?) I was watching my goals for 2018 slip to the back burner for yet one more setback in a long string of setbacks. I couldn’t bend my left knee. Damn. Honestly, my left knee is (was) the one part of me that isn’t damaged…
Andy arrived and I started to feel a little less hysterical. He had called his employer, Bell Ambulance, and they soon arrived on scene, too. The second cop was a little cranky about it when I told him that I would be using Bell if I decided to be transported. He said that’s not how it works. Cudahy rescue was here, and if I wanted transport, I’d have to go with Cudahy rescue. I told him that was not my understanding of how it worked. I looked at the paramedic, and asked, “in your opinion, would you even suggest ambulance transport for these injuries?” He was noncommittal, but told me that I could sign to refuse transport. So I did that and then started talking to Bell’s paramedics. Being full of grit and determination, I really didn’t think I needed to go by ambulance. I just wanted Andy to drive me to the hospital. It was less than a mile away. It was a struggle to get in the car, because I couldn’t bend my knee much, but I got in and then the policeman came over to finalize his report and wish me luck. The Jeep guy’s friend also came over to apologize, but the man who hit me still never said a single word. He altered the trajectory of my life. I wonder if there was any consequence to his.
In the meantime, Andy loaded my bike onto the car while I sat in the passenger seat. Usually, I lock my bike to the rack, but something told me that nobody would steal a mangled bike off a car that was parked at the emergency room.
On to the ER. I did promise Andy that I would take him to a doctor to get his foot checked and we were on the way to see a doctor. Maybe we could get a two-fer. The nurse just laughed. Why is it that they always think I’m joking? Honestly, I wasn’t trying to get out of taking care of Andy.
He insisted on getting a wheelchair to get me into the ER. I didn’t object. Much… We spent the next three hours getting my injuries checked out. There was a physical exam, and x-rays of my knee and femurs. My knee was becoming increasingly swollen and the bruises started to appear on both thighs and right shin, where the bike frame struck me. My left hip had huge bruises, too, from hitting the concrete. The X-ray tech kept asking me to position myself in various ways on the table, each position hurting more than the previous one. The last one was extremely awkward. At least they got good images.
Luckily, nothing was broken according to the x-ray. They gave me pain pills, a knee brace, and asked if we wanted to watch a video on “how to use crutches”. I said no. How hard could it be? But Andy thought a little entertainment was a great idea, so we agreed to watch the video. I’m glad we did, because it put me in a better mood. The nurse literally wheeled in an AV cart set-up straight out of my 80s high school days. A CRT TV sat on the top of the cart and a VCR on the bottom. She popped in the VHS tape (I am not kidding!) and the ensuing video took my mind off my pain. It was hilarious-so hilarious that I did not pay any attention to the tips on using crutches. I think I figured it out pretty fast, and I made my way out to the car to get home to start recovering and re-calculating my plans for the year. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to work around a set back.