It never occured to me that I’d be writing about this here. It’s an old, almost forgotten story. But, it snuck out in a comment on the My Big Toe thread – one comment led to another and now I’m bowing to the force of public will and telling the rest of it here.
In the last installment, I was scrambling like a crab under a car that had knocked into me, throwing me up in the air (I weighed a lot less than I do now, for those of you keeping thrack of that.)
The next thing I remember is that I was standing up with two friends holding me up by the elbows. And the door opened on the car that ran me down.
“Are you OK?” he asked. “Is she OK? You fucker — you just ran over her, FUCK!” screamed my friend (an 18 year old blond junior college girl).
“OK” he said, as he drove off.
(I hate this part of the story. Can I take a break before I tell it?)
[UPDATE]Well, thinking about it has made me sick. So if you don’t mind I’ll skip to the Lessons Learned before moving back to the romance (after all, that’s what started this whole conversation.) I think you’ll be able to infer the missing pieces.
The Lessons:
- Don’t bother asking a person who’s been in an accident if they’re OK. They will almost always say “Yes,” and even if they think they aren’t, they won’t have any accurate idea about what is wrong.
- Don’t hesitate to call the police. Just do it.
- Offer to call a family member. Ask for a phone number, they’ll probably tell it to you without even thinking about it.
- Hang around to make sure the person is either in an ambulance or with a family member. Or at least wait until the police get there so that you can tell them what you saw or what you know.
- Don’t assume that everything is OK. Because the situation could very well be sliding out of control. You might be embarrassed, and feel like you’re being pushy, but you might be that person’s only support.
No one at the scene did any of that.
(Whew.)
8 Comments
Sure you can KB, or either not tell it if it’s painful. Not pushing at you to bring up bad memories.
What Family Man said, Kb.
Yeah, what kansas and Family Man said. No need, desire, wish to push you anywhere you don’t want to go.
katieb! Shock does funny things to people — and funny in the not good way. Observers may not even realize that a person is in shock especially if they are not family or close friends, but they most definitely must not be left alone! Always wait for police or ambulance. Like the other wise ones above me said, please don’t feel like you have to re-tell your story: we can infact get the gist of what happened by your lessons learned list. {{{kb}}}
The next morning mister came to pick me up and I spent the day with him and his children and their dog.
My leg was in a brace (my knee was pretty badly banged up but not broken) and on crutches.
And we had a perfect, wonderful day that even the kids remember as being special. We went on an outing to a Comic Book Store, the Liberty Memorial and Nichols Lunchroom. And then we came home and the kids ran around the house playing with the dog.
While he made pizza.
Later he took me home.
And thanks to everyone for their concern. It’s really not the accident that is upsetting. It’s remembering the people that I still haven’t forgiven. Really, everything turned out just fine.
Except that it was 4 years before my knee was up to taking a long walk again.
And I still can’t wear Spiked Heeled Shoes.
Man, that was one tough way to pick up some good Lessons to Share. I’m awfully glad you’re still alive to tell this tale.
kbird, it sounds like a wonderful day, and without knowing anything about it, or wishing to remind you of unpleasant memories, I have a feeling that the “friends” who let you down were just acting out of stupidity. So there is another lesson learned. Try not to deprive stupid people of each other’s company by choosing smart friends
The good part is that you got mister, a son, and pizza for life. When is mister going to come to E4T and share his pizza secrets?
And noo one should wear those awful shoes. I am tempted to write a rant about them.
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[...] A little more than a month ago, I sprained my ankle. And that threw a tangle into The Commitment.u For months until then things had been going so smoothly, so routinely; I took for granted my ability to stay focused and true to my goals. And I especially took ‘the little voice’ for granted.h And it went away while I recovered from the injury. So there I was hobbled, unable to do any distance walking (my exercise of choice), terrified by the memory of the last time I was unable to distance walk (see the Spike Heels Shoes story), struggling with (now) unfamiliar urges to eat — and completely abandoned by ‘the little voice’. The little voice that for months would ask me (ever so kindly), “Is this a meal?” or “Have you already eaten your meal?” was silenced. [...]
[...] I first slipped into obesity in the mid-1980s, getting myself back in shape in the later mid-1980s. Only to lose my focus and my grip on weight control after getting run over by a car (I couldn’t do distance walking for over 4 years and I didn’t have any fallback exercises and was probably lax about portion control also). This time it was years and years — over a decade before I snapped into focus on weight management. And that’s when I joined Weight Watchers (I talk about it here), my most recent weight loss experience before this. [...]