novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- mercy we were just talking about what a great day we were having, clothes shopping and then a birthday barbeque on a vast creaking deck in the middle of san francisco's ghost triangle, eating bratwurst and drinking margaritas until the cake came out, raspberry and white chocolate. we danced around and impersonated monkeys. she was slowing to a stop at the bottom of a hill, a four-way stop. our car was going about five miles an hour. i looked up and saw a bright green jaguar speeding so fast towards us it looked like its wheels weren't touching asphalt-- i remember she kept calling me baby while we sat on the sidewalk shaking. i was so thankful for that and i could not make myself let go of her foot. i was convinced that if one of us blacked out we would slip into a coma or some other mysterious pause. the EMT was checking my line of vision for a concussion, asking me on a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the worst pain you've ever felt, how would you say you feel right now? i guessed 4, and explained that it wasn't so much awful pain but sensations in parts of my body that i've never felt before. and that in itself is so scary, to suddenly be aware of your body in new ways. i said it really doesn't hurt too badly, and the EMT muttered just wait until tomorrow before strapping my body to a giant board and fitting my neck with a brace. now it is tomorrow, and i see what the EMT meant. there are very bruised ribs, clavicle, and neck. stiff shoulders, legs and back. the center of my chest has tightened itself into a little ball. this morning, turning slowly in the mirror, finding black blue and red explosions all over my skin. the hardest part was coming home to no one at midnight, having no one to curl up against. a heart beat to lull me calm again. i hugged my roommate but i didn't want to seem like i couldn't handle it. (i spent the entire ambulance ride cracking jokes with the EMTs, casually asking them to hold on to the gurney when we took sharp corners, to loop the handles of my bag around my hand so i'd have something to clutch with white knuckles.) cats are intuitive, he stayed by my side. i called my father and explained what happened-- afterwards he crawled out of the driver's side window and ran up the hill we had just driven slowly down. they caught him a block away. they are all guessing speed. he was on speed and he stole that car from a dealership and the police were chasing him. he totaled our car, his stolen car, two parked cars and i laid strapped to a gurney with my neck in a brace (it wasn't one of those white cotton braces, but a thick cardboard contraption that cut into muscles unnaturally), staring at the ceiling panels in the hallway of the USF ER for four hours. there were no rooms available, and i was right next to the nurse's station. i couldn't move my head; i just closed my eyes for as long as i could. the nurses debated ordering chinese take-out, working 2 to 2 shifts the night before the AIDS walk, gay bars, hornery nephews and uncomfortable husbands. they laughed a lot and all of us pretended i wasn't there. e met me at the ER and they let her talk to me in the hallway for a little while. she made me laugh which made my ribs hurt. she waited the entire four hours and drove me home afterwards, and i was so happy to have someone i trust nearby. until the radiologist declared me OK i was convinced i'd get stuck with lifelong pain, and i was so scared and annoyed to have to deal with that for the next fifty years. they made me pee into a a cup and off-handedly explained that they were checking for blood, in case of internal injuries. the most surreal part of the entire night was the double-consciousness you feel when you're in shock. i'm sorry i can't remember my phone number, i must be in shock. what? what? um. well there was this car. i don't know what my address is. wait. yes, i know my birthdate. i'm just going slow, i'm just in shock. today i wince whenever i move and i am not supposed to be typing because i have temporary nerve damage in my left hand. i feel like such an old lady. so creaky. at least i can creak. i'd rather creak than not move at all. i am very glad for passenger's side airbags. we looked at her car today; the side where i was sitting looked like a mouth snarling, like elvis and his signature lip. things like wheel wells and charred machinery exposed. a cobweb of broken window just above the dashboard, isn't it scary to see or feel things that you know are not supposed to be exposed? you try not to think about it. you try not to think about worse things that could have happened. she talks about the headaches, but only mentions them in passing as if they don't hurt that much. we watch three's company and bonanza and she cuts my hair. we discover that michael landon was pretty hot during his bonanza days. we eat chinese food and i think of the talkative nurses and their ill-fitting scrubs. my fortune cookie says, go ahead and be as sexy as you can be. i brush my newly-cut bangs out of my eyes with my good hand. we look at each other and nod. 9:56 pm - 07.18.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||