My head and back ache with a consistent fury I have not known before - even from the world's toughest workouts or classes I've taken. I don't think I've fully accepted or marinated in the fact long enough that the crash I was in was pretty bad. I mean, the car is totaled. I had three air bags deployed in my general direction and folks ran out of their homes because the crash was so loud.
The fact I walked away I attribute to my fine, sturdy stock. There was no broken glass, only the crumpled front end of our brand new car. Stay-Puft (as we lovingly called our Ford C-Max Energi) sacrificed his life for me. His little head light dangling out like a loose eyeball, the entire front bumper hanging off like a sad lower lip and the entire crushed driver's side making him looking an angry, snarled beast on the street.
I just remember the horn honking...non stop. Once I was hit and stopped, turned the car off etc, the horn just kept going. It was just a constant reminder that the car was saying "I'm hurt"..."over here"...constantly. I know the neighbors hated it, but tough shit. Some folks managed to get it to stop but it was without my permission, so that sort of pissed me off. I was shaking so bad I could barely take photos, let alone make sense to talk to anyone. I was so hyped up on adrenaline that who knows--even to this day-- what sort of injury may emerge. I won't go into details other to say it was 100% NOT my fault and I really didn't enjoy sitting on a curb by myself for over an hour while waiting for a tow, the police or anybody to help me out. I guess since I wasn't bleeding in the street, my accident was not a priority. The other car (a big ass truck) managed to drive off. Thanks for buying us a new car, dick. We didn't need one because we had one, but hey, we get to look forward to new car smell all over again...
When I had seen people after the accident, they kind of just approached me with a gentle apprehension, like if they hugged me I may crumble. Um, hello -- if this body didn't crumble from a 40+ mph collision, a hug won't hurt. My brother coughs it up to my heft Russian stock. He's been known to put his head through windshields, fall off bikes and punch walls with no bodily consequences.
I knew it was a doozy when my doctor who has the "oh, just put some ice on it and use ibuprofen" mentality, actually gave me some pain killers and referred me to a physical therapy CLASS, which is lame. You don't even know what has occurred or what state my spine is in, but sure, go to a CLASS where someone is going to manipulate my body or teach me self care for post-crash recovery for an undiagnosed soft-tissue trauma. Again, I swear my medical providers run things backwards over there at Kaiser. Thankfully, I have an appt. with a specialist on Friday, after which I will be seeing an attorney. Good times.
Until then, obviously no working out. Yet another gloriously painful wrench thrown into my fitness wheel. I joked that at least I had fewer innards to injure now. The important thing is to take care of my body and listen to it. All the creaks, pains, aches and tightness are telling me to basically nap. All day. Too bad I have a life and a job that won't allow that. I'm running the emotional gamut here, and I've come to hate that street one block over from home. It's the same street I got mugged on, so hey - at least I keep things consistent. Too bad there is no avoiding the street since it's a major thoroughfare - for foot, bike or car traffic.
Thank god for the kindness of strangers who made sure I was ok that day and the neighbor I called who didn't hesitate to help me out. Of course all I could think of immediately was "Boy, is superintendent's gonna be pissed!", and damn, I had eggs in the backseat. (Only 1 broke!)