Geez, what a wash-out today was. I started off full of plans and things I needed to do, and then it all ended in a heap because I took a HALF a pain pill with codeine in it. Just a half. Not a whole. I felt like a space cadet and ended up doing lots of nothing. Of course, my instructions were to rest, and you could easily say I accomplished that, mostly.
My CT scan was at 4:15 this afternoon at Noarlunga hospital. Rod dropped me off at the door and I made my way to the radiology appointment… slowly, painfully. I certainly am not getting anywhere in any hurry at the moment, that’s for sure. The test was ‘easy’. You lie on a bed/board that moves in and out of a round donut shaped thing. I have ‘easy’ in quotes because it was just a very very painful position to have to be in and be still at the same time. I just kept telling myself that it’s only for a few minutes.
On the way home, we stopped for milk and I told Rod to get me donuts. It must have been the shape of the CT scan. I just felt like I needed a reward for just getting there, going through the procedure and walking ever so slowly back out again.
After the scan, I had to sign a form and noted that today is August 18th. What annoyed me is I handed the paper back and she said no, you keep that. We just have to see you sign it. What the? However, since the date is very significant to me, I suppose it was worth it for the reminder.
Thirty years ago today, on August 18, 1979 I was in the one and only major car crash I’ve ever been in. If I were feeling better, I’d find and scan the photos to add here, but that will have to wait for some other time. I had been invited to a wedding reception by a guy I dated quite a bit in high school. He was older than me and in the Navy, and was home on leave. He stood me up. Instead of just staying home and crying in my pillow, I went to the reception and confronted him. Geez, I had balls back then. Anyway, I left upset and ended up crashing my car on Shattuck Rd. I hit a tree which pretty much ripped the entire passenger side of my 1967 Dodge Charger apart, then the car went airborne and hit a telephone poll six feet from the ground. I came to upside right in an upside down car. The car was completely totalled. It couldn’t even be towed away and had to be put on a flat-bed truck. I was taken to emergency and had to stay overnight due to a nasty concussion. No broken bones, just lots of scrapes, massive bruises and the concussion. My sister took me to the junk yard the next day to get stuff out of the car. The man at the junk yard came over to me and told me I should be dead. He then took me all around the yard and showed me cars that people had died in. Then he showed me my car. The difference between my car and the other ones was incredible. Had there been anyone in the passenger side, they really would not have survived.
So every August 18th, I take a moment to reflect on that accident and the fact that I’m still here, living life. Thirty years has been significant since my schoolmates just had their 30th class reunion and I’ve been looking at the photos of everyone who attended via their Facebook photo albums. All the things I’ve done in the last thirty years… my kids, my loves, my writing… it’s hard to imagine that had things gone differently that night none of these would exist today.
So yeah, not the best of days, but it was a day I was here to be a part of such as snickering at the banter of my kids on Twitter or watching the cat chase his tail. Just having a cup of tea and watching the world go by is my pace at the moment. Think I better appreciate it!
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