Thursday 20 February 2014

Twice Broken... Now Shy (of crossing the street!)

    I stood there waiting for the light to change. It was red, but I needed to cross the street to get to the bus stop. The sun shone brightly in the early morning sky and my thoughts strayed to the class I had that morning. The light turned green, my eyes scanned the road quickly and then I started off. A quick second later, I saw a truck turn into the middle of the intersection. A pickup with some landscaping company's logo across the side. It's probably just turning so it can go through when I'm clear, I thought. It's not uncommon for a car to pull into the intersection, pause until the pedestrian has moved on, and then continue their turn.

    Suddenly, I realised the truck wasn't stopping. It was coming right for me! I started running but it was too quick. The pickup hit my left arm and hip and though I desperately tried to maintain my balance, I fell to the ground. I lay there for a minute. Shock overtaking my body and brain. The driver stopped and there was silence. I forced myself to get up and stood there, unsure of what to do. The driver wound his window down and, horrified, asked me if I was okay.

    Okay? Am I okay? I don't know, I thought. "I think I'm okay," I replied. He didn't seem convinced and asked me again. I was in shock, but I wasn't aware of that yet. Since I didn't seem to be struggling to walk, talk or wasn't even bleeding, I told him I was fine. He didn't know what to do himself, and oddly, the only thing I was worried about was getting to school for my lecture. So, I got myself, safely this time, across the street just in time to make the bus.

    Five minutes later, as I sat waiting for my stop to come up, I felt a lot of pain in my arm. I looked down and saw that my wrist was swollen and found that I was having difficulty moving it. Then it dawned on me, I had been in shock, and I was actually hurt. I knew there was a hospital on the main campus (just past the building where I attended classes), but I didn't know where it was. I called my friend, who happened to be in medical school at the same university. She'll know where the hospital is! As it was just before eight in the morning, and she was across town, I think I scared her a bit when I told her I'd been hit by a truck, was on the bus and needed directions to the emergency room. Not a call that anyone would like to get!

    With the help of her directions, I found the ER and explained what happened to the triage nurse. "I a tuck hit me." The nurse looked at me and so I explained what happened and showed her my arm.  It was a very quiet morning so they took me back after waiting only a few minutes. After examination the doctor proclaimed that I had broken a bone in my left wrist. He then put a plaster cast on me and checked me over for any other injuries. Sadly, this was not the only time that I had broken that wrist. Whilst I was doing my first degree, I worked for a summer at a call centre. Coming home late one night, I fell into a ditch, created by the construction on my street. By the time I had made my way home afterwards, my arm was rather painful. A visit to the ER found that it was broken and I had to wear a cast for several weeks after that.

   My phone buzzed. "Hello?" It was my friend. She had made her way to the hospital and was checking in with me. We met up and went for ice cream, because I had been hit by a truck and quite frankly, I deserved it.

P.S. I just wanted to add in that I am very proud of my home country of Canada for doing so well in the Sochi Olympic Games. Today. I was able to watch the women's teams for curling and hockey win the gold. Well done ladies!



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