Glad you're alright, Mav. That's the most important part.
This story sort-of reminds me of what my dad told me about an incident earlier this year:
He was driving down a highway when he saw a police car that pulled over a car for whatever reason. I believe at the time there was construction going on, so there was a hold-up on traffic. When my dad stopped, the car behind him crashed into his work truck. My dad was okay, the work truck was okay, but the car behind him was smashed due to my dad's work truck's trailer hitch. There was barely any scratch on the work truck. It turns out the 16-year-old kid who drove the car was paying attention to the police, who witnessed the accident. Heh, that was the best part (although I will note the kid was okay too). My dad took pictures for business reasons on reporting an accident, and kept some copies for himself.
It also reminds me--on a darker note--of a bicycle accident I had nearly three years ago (July 3rd, 2002, a Wednesday evening). I was bored, wanted to be away from parents, so I went cycling. I cared not of any traffic flow (or apparent lack there-of) so I went crazy and felt the wind at a high speed, going down the hill of my street, making a long yet nearly death-defying right turn at the end of the hill to another street intersecting, avoided a parked car, and enjoyed the wind. It felt nice, up until the death-bringing black SUV a woman was driving (past the speed limit no less) was on a collision course with me.
It all happened so sudden, so fast, and not a flash of memories before my eyes; The impact, the rolling around, hitting the pavement. It didn't hurt that much until afterwards when I layed on the ground. I was afraid that it was then that a stupid decision on my part to ignore something octagon in shape and red in color as much as how it was stupid for the woman to go flying past the speed limit (unsure of how fast, but it was almost as fast as how other people drive through there, 30, 40 MPH due to no stop signs until the end). I moaned for someone close to me-yet so far away that I loved (to which I named my puppy after when I got her Christmas last year).
After the woman used her cell phone to call an ambulence (unsure if she called my mom or dad), I was trying to give her my name. After a bit the ambulence came, used bandages around my head and one or two other areas. When I looked at my feet, I noticed that my shoes were gone. This was shockingly a reminder of how one Aaron Faukner--a 6th grader in my Junior High/Middle School and a fellow friend--died from an accident in 1997, the same year my grandfather died (which he did back in March, ten days after my birthday). People were talking about it that morning-before Christmas vacation; how he was ran over by a truck, how his shoes flew away from his feet. He didn't make it. I, among many, couldn't go through school then, bawling to near-death about it. It was sad and so stupid a death; He had so much potential.
Well, after that thought since my shoes flew off my feet (I found out later they were smothered in my blood). I noticed my bike still there, and wondered if the bicycle would make it. It didn't, it was gone. And it was refitted with new wheels! I was rushed to the hospital to get bandaged up. There, I had stitches on my head so my head would be fixed up, as that was the major injury I had, and it wasn't that bad. It somewhat reminded me of how I was care-free in my first grade classroom and accidentally got hurt and had my head split. Ouch. Minor injuries included a badly-bruised tailbone (or whatever you call it on the top of my bum inside), some scratches and other bruises. After healing up from those scratches and head and a catscan or two, I was released, my parents who came there (my dad and his friend were at a Home Depot when they heard the news, and rushed to the Hospital, passing several red lights to get there) took me home. I was given a tiny lecture before I looked at the stars and came home.
July 4th, 2002 wasn't so bad, being by myself, talking to my dad whilst looking at nearby fireworks lighting up the evening/night sky, having to walk awkwardly so not to hurt myself too much from the bruised tailbone...
So, all in all, I really feel for you Mav.
(Edit: Some grammar mistakes fixed.)
Topic: Matt vs F-150 (Read 5052 times)