Here I am, back from my month-long siesta!
I suppose I should start at the beginning with the biggest hits of the last month, those being when my car was hit and the subsequent hit to my head.
It’s not a long story. I was heading to the store one afternoon when I had to make a left-hand turn at an intersection, heading northbound to eastbound. I stopped at the red light and, when the light turned green, pulled into the intersection to start my turn. There was a UPS driver on the other side of the intersection and I was waiting to see if he was driving straight through or if he would turn left as well. Just then, out of the corner of my left eye, I saw a car blaze through the intersection coming westbound, past the other cars stopped at the light. I only had time to think, “He’s going to hit,” when the car slammed into the front of my Honda Civic at no less than 45 mph, taking off the front of my car before it slid to a stop with a broken front axle.
The impact slammed my head against the door frame and, for a second, I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. A bystander named Cameron helped me out of my car and walked me to the curb. I wasn’t bleeding or broken but I was shaking badly. I could barely lie on the concrete before the shaking became uncontrollable. Still, I had the presence of mind to call Vicky and tell her, “I’ve been in an accident and I don’t think I’ll be driving away from it. Can you come get me?”
This is where things got funny, though not funny “ha ha”. The ambulance arrived after witnesses called 911 and checked the passengers of the other car, two old people in a Mercedes. After determining the old people were okay, the ambulance left. As the drivers boarded their car, I was so shocked they didn’t bother to ask if I was okay, I joked, “Thanks for stopping by!”
The police arrived to take statements and, again, rather than ask if I was okay – I was beginning to feel very nauseated at this point – one asked if I could move my car, which now lay in pieces in the middle of the intersection. Surprisingly, it was drivable, if barely. I moved it to the curb. The female cop taking the statements got statements from the two witnesses to the effect that the Mercedes ran the red light. I said the Mercedes ran the red light. With it being three to one against the other driver, you’d think…
Nope, the female cop came back and asked me, “Why were you running the red light?”
“I wasn’t,” I told her, giving my statement again.
She went back to the old people in the Mercedes and, when she returned to me, insisted, “Well, it’s clear you ran the red light.” And I insisted again that I hadn’t, reminding her that the two witnesses supported my side of the story. At this point, she gave up and just sneered at me.
The Mercedes and my Honda were both towed away and Vicky took me home, insisting that I should have gone to the hospital. At this point, I was hurting quite a bit and nauseated so I agreed that Vicky could ask my doctor what was best at this point. My doctor said I should go to the hospital.
Off we went. At St. Joseph, I was feeling increasingly disoriented to the point where they had to put me into a wheelchair and (according to Vicky’s account) I pretty much lost it. I became completely disoriented, which prompted the hospital to check me in pretty fast. Back to the ER, I was wheeled and over the course of several hours was given CT scans and X-Rays and lots and lots of meds. I left there with prescriptions for more meds and the knowledge that I had suffered a concussion and soft tissue damage. (My doctor would later refer to this as “thousands of microscopic tears in your muscles”.)
The long and the short of it was that I wasn’t going to be getting up for a few days and, when I did, it was a couple of weeks before I was moving at anything approaching normal. After a bit, Vicky and I went to get the police report because, dammit, I wanted to sue the bastards who had hit me. I’m not usually prone to lawsuits; I’ve only done it once in my life. But when I found out how obviously the passengers in the Mercedes had lied, saying it was my fault, all I could think was that I wanted to see them punished.
The other driver was not cited for anything. Apparently, cops can only cite if they witness the infraction – no matter how many witnesses support the claim. When did this start? Sounds pretty fucked up to me. So, basically, you can kill a guy and never get arrested if a cop doesn’t see it??? I’m calling bullshit! But that’s what the cops said to us. So, fine. But I wanted to take these bastards to court and get some satisfaction!
And this is where things got funnier… and no, no “ha ha”… I couldn’t find a single lawyer who would pursue taking the driver to court because he was a liar or for pain and suffering, which I had plenty of! No, the best I could find was a lawyer who would sue for medical expenses, a few thousand dollars. So, basically, these guys have lied and are going to get away with it. It really pisses me off!
Anyway, fortunately for me, I had no permanent injuries that I know about. I’m jogging again and, once enough time passes for me to be sure I… no, wait… for Vicky to be sure I’m over the concussion, I can cycle again. So, at least, there’s that.
I can promise you, though, that if I had gone through a red light or if I had lied – two things I do not do – I would have had my license taken away. I would have been put in jail. I would have had my sorry ass sued.
There really is no justice sometimes.