*Mom and Dad, please stop reading*
Over the years, I’ve had my fair share of accidents. I’ve fallen (or jumped) off cliffs, crushed my knee between a truck bed and a boat trailer, met asphalt against bare skin, gotten clipped by cars on my bicycle, and a whole lot of clumsy falls. That’s life; accidents happen. We can only count our blessings when our bodies are able to recover from accidents. And very happily for me, my bones seem to be made of rubber and robot parts; thanks #bionicbody! Please stay bionic forever.
A year and a half ago, I bought a scooter (Taylor who rides Swiftly through the streets). I knew at some point, I would have an accident. I only hoped it would be minor.
After dinner tonight, I dropped my friend off and started for home. As I was driving, I thought to myself, “I’m very fortunate to have never gotten in an accident”. 2 minutes later, I stopped to get gas. I pull out of the gas station, and start up the hill. I accelerate and I see a car to my right suddenly pull out of a street parking space. I swerve to the left and as I open my mouth to let out a sigh of relief, the sigh quickly turns into a scream. The car hits the gas to make a sharp illegal turn before oncoming traffic cuts him off. Unfortunately for both of us, the car wasn’t paying attention to his side of traffic. Taylor and I are sideswiped by his van; Taylor gets knocked into oncoming traffic and I am thrown to the other side. I immediately pop up, and the song and dance begins. 911 is called, a fire truck shows up minutes later, a bystander emails me photos, paramedics take me into the back of an ambulance, and cops question the other driver. I say I’m fine I’m fine, then take stock of my body. I notice the red spot in my shoe getting bigger, so I take off my shoe, and realize I’m not exactly fine.
Morphine gets injected (also, I love morphine. What a great invention), and then I’m really fine. Then the morphine wears off and the shaking commences. Then I meet my nurse in the trauma unit, and LESBIAN!!! She makes me take off my shirt and pants (suuuure, for you anything Dr Lesbian), x-rays are done, my toes are cleaned up (toenails still intact…for now says Dr. Lesbian), and then I wait for no reason for a couple of hours and go home.
My first thought when I got hit was I’m alive, thank goodness. My second thought was NO NOT TAYLOR!! Nooooo. My third thought was this is going to be a huge pain to deal with. My fourth thought was $$$$$$$. My fifth thought was I am SO LUCKY. What if traffic was oncoming? What if I got run over by oncoming traffic? What if I wasn’t wearing a helmet? What if I had been seriously injured?
I’m doing another 30 day yoga camp, and today’s mantra was “I am alive”. No joke. I am alive and I am so lucky to be alive. Every day lived is a blessing; even though today was a relatively minor reminder of that, it’s an important thing to remember when life is annoying and messy and hard. Health is the most important thing.
On Friday, I lost a deal at work. A deal I’ve been working on for 6 months, a deal that would have made my Sales quota. A loss that upset me. A loss that sent my mind into an unpleasant place for a couple of days. That loss is NOTHING compared to loss of your toes, your leg, your arm, your vital organs, your life.
It’s a reminder I’m constantly trying to say to myself when I am angry, sad, depressed, sleeping poorly or just having a lousy day. It’s easier said than done, because I have a hard time truly appreciating what I do have. I appreciate it once it’s gone. And I have so much to appreciate. Especially when I read stories of those less fortunate than me. We all need to appreciate the use of our bodies, the roof over our heads, the food on our tables, the laughter, the world we get to see…I only write this because honestly I need to do a better job at it. And I want to go back to this post when I’m feeling upset over something silly that doesn’t matter.
Yesterday’s yoga advice was ““If you don’t like something, change it. If you can’t change it, change your attitude.” I’m not going to like dealing with insurance companies and bills and potentially giving Taylor a funeral. But I can’t change it, so all I can do is change my attitude to be …something less than angry. Maybe grateful that Taylor took the brunt of the trauma.
Rest in peace, Taylor. I’ll get back on the horse in a couple weeks, but for now I’ll let you rest.