A little over a week ago, I was on a bike ride, just up the street in the center of town. The light at the intersection was red, so I did what I always do. I rode up as far as I could, alongside the cars, in the space between the car and the curb.
Normally I can get up to the light and wait for it to turn green with the first car in line.
This time, the light turned green when I was about five or six cars back. I had just approached the rear passenger door of — what I think I correctly call as — a dark green Grand Cherokee. As they sped up, for some reason, the drive moved slightly to the right and clipped my front tire with their rear bumper.
I fell headfirst onto the pavement, landing partly on my head, partly on my shoulder.
I was stunned, literally, for a minute, before I could stand up. I shook it off, but I knew I was hurt. The guys in the work van behind me asked if I needed a ride, but I thought I was okay.
Once I got off the road, I called my wife, but couldn’t get in touch with her. Then I called my sister-in-law, who works for the fire department in our town, which was just up the road. She came and got me and brought me back to the fire station, where the EMTs gave me a once over. I filed a report with them, then went over to the police station and filed a report there, as well.
Sister-in-law drove me home, and the pain got worse, so I went for x-rays with my wife.
I fractured my collarbone and a rib. Which, if you’ve ever done yourself, you know is one of those “we can’t do anything, just wait for it to heal, here’s some Tylenol” injuries.
This happens on Tuesday the 16th. Until today, I could not raise my left arm above my shoulder without blinding pain. It’s prevented me from being able to write anything in the last week and a half.
But, that said, I’m typing this, now. So there’s no excuse to not get back at it and finish up this first draft. I’ll be a little behind the completely arbitrary schedule I made up for myself, but that’s fine. And, hopefully, I’ll feel back to 100% soon. And also, hopefully, won’t be terrified to go back out on my bike again.
