I never made it. Obviously I didn’t die, but I was in a terrible car accident. A guy tried to make a left turn (when I had the right of way) and to avoid him, my car swerved and hit a pole head on. My car and my humerus bone on my right arm were totalled.
I remember reaching over to my purse and calling my dad. The conversation went like this:
Me: hey Aba (thats what I call him), ummm…can you come get me??? I think I need help….I was in an accident.
Dad: What?! Where are you.
Me: Venice and Helms blvd I think…..although I’m not sure, I cant really get out of the car, my door is jammed….o shit and my arm is killing me!
Dad: I’ll be right there! DONT MOVE!
Thankfully, there is some life around LA and many people rushed to call the police and help me. A woman who happened to be nurse took my pulse and said I would be ok. When the ambulance came I was all, “No need, I’m TOTALLY fine!”. Yea, it wasn’t gonna fly, I was very hurt even though I didn’t want to admit it.
They rushed me to the ER and for the first time I felt like a VIP. I didn’t have to wait like a lot of other ER patients. I guess you dont when you arrive in an ambulance. The sad thing is, all I thought about in the ambulance was, “damn, I hope I can still get my workout in today!” and “Hmmm, that EMT is pretty cute, too bad I look like shit”.
Luckily, my dad actually works at one of the biggest hospitals in LA so I got some extra attention because of our “connections”. After some rest an X-rays, I found out I broke my humerus bone badly and I had two options:
1) have surgery the next day and insert metal plates to hold the bone back in place as it rebuilds itself.
2) be put in a cast for at least 3 months
They suggested I do the surgery and I was on board with that because healing time would be quicker and I didn’t want to abstain from the chronic cardio I was doing for over three months. Again, sad sad thoughts I had.
Anyhow, I healed pretty quickly and was left with this:
I don’t know why I was thinking about my scar today, but I was. I did an exercise class at the gym today and I rarely do this because I hate having a mirror in front of me for more than a few seconds. I guess instead of judging my appearance, I noticed my scar, and thought “hmm, that’s actually pretty cool”.
Its certainly a great conversation starter!
Cute guy: O, wheres that scar from?
Me: This? Ah I was saving children in India, because I do good things like that when I have time, and as I was bottle feeding an orphan, a giant tiger attacked me and this is what remains from my fight with him. Obviously, I won, I really showed him!
Plus, if I ever can’t do a move in yoga and dont want to look like a wimp, I just say, “I’m sorry, I can’t, my arm…..”
Do you have an scars or stories about them? fictional stories welcome, that tiger orphan thing is getting old.
Speaking of India, this recipe kind of falls into that theme. My roommate love butternut squash, so I thought I made a batch simply by coating them in:
I roasted them at 400 degrees for about 30 min but she likes them bordering burnt so just keep an eye on them every 10 min.