Slowing things down....

Slowing things down

It all started out harmlessly enough. A nice ride on the motorcycle on a lovely summer evening with friends, dinner in McMinnville, then heading back in the cool evening twilight. It felt good to do something after work other than sit at home; I felt like perhaps I actually had some semblance of a social life during the week. It was my first time riding with a group and would be my first time riding at night, but I was up for the challenge and new experience. I'd become more confident on the bike this summer and felt that I was doing well in going beyond my comfort zones.

The ride to McMinnville was beautiful. The four of us rode in perfect formation among the twists and turns of quiet country roads. Dinner on the rooftop at Hotel Oregon was lovely, and even though it was cooling down quickly, we were warm in our leathers.

The ride home started out uneventful enough. We decided to take 99W, as it was more direct and a little quicker. It was well after 9PM when we set out and cool enough to break out some winter gear, so a shorter trip home was a welcome plan. As we rode down 99W, I remember feeling nervous yet confident about night riding-I was out of my comfort zone and it felt very liberating.

We stopped at a intersection on 99W to make a left turn onto Bull Mtn Rd. It was one of those busy intersections with a wide left turn. The arrow turned green, Bob and Chuck turned and went down Bull Mtn Rd. As I followed, I remember thinking, “ I don't like this wide of a turn in such a busy intersection, but if I take it slow and look ahead to where I want to go, I should be fine.” (I also wondered what Bob was thinking, leading us this way at night, but he'd missed tmaking an earlier turn). I proceeded to turn, and as I was looking toward my destination, I heard a car horn. I looked up and saw there was another light, that I hadn't seen, which was red. I tried to stop, but it was too late. I felt my bike colliding with a Ford Explorer, saw and heard glass braking, hit the pavement and felt my bike slide forward out from under me, a few feet ahead. The driver got out of his SUV and appeared fine. He never came up to me, but I learned later on that he didn't speak any English. He also must've thought that he just killed a motorcyclist.

For those of you who have never been injured in an accident, it is quite the surreal experience. You might think you're alright, but sometimes shock can set in and mask more serious injuries. Having worked in emergency medicine, I was well aware of this phenomena, and mostly concentrated on the fact that I was still alive and cognizant of who I was and my surroundings. I then sat up and was keenly aware of pain in my right leg. I was pretty sure it wasn't broken, but didn't want to take off my boot to find out. My next thought was that I hoped the other cars had stopped, which they had. This was followed by the shock of not believing what had just happened, along with a myriad of other thoughts (How long will it take Bob to turn around? Is my bike ok?). A kind woman named Erin came up to me and told me not to move and to leave my helmet on; she had called 911 and help was on the way (actually by this time, the road was closed off, and both the sheriff and firefighters had arrived at the scene). Everyone was genuinely concerned-asking me where the pain was, did I hit my head at all, etc. I think my vitals were taken at least twice. By this time, Bob and Chuck had doubled back-they were fairly far ahead and when I didn't follow, they knew something was wrong. PJ and his girlfriend were behind me and saw the whole thing-I think they was just as shaken up as I was.

Once Bob could see I was alright, he gave all of my information to the police and arranged for my bike to be towed and gathered my things. Meanwhile, the paramedics helped me onto a stretcher and into their truck. I was starting to calm down a little, and their kindness made it that much easier. One thing about being a Vet tech, is that I can compare stories with those in human medicine. I spent much of the ambulance ride chatting with the paramedics about my work and some of the crazy clients we deal with. Once I got to the hospital, they checked me in and took me to triage-their work was done and they went back out on another call. I filled out paperwork, had my vitals taken again and waited for x-rays. At this point, I called my supervisor, as well as the overnight technician, told them what happened and that I wouldn't be in. I tried to play the evening's events down a little because I didn't want them to worry, but it's difficult to tell someone you've been in a motorcycle accident and not have them freak out. I'm thinking that I should probably never tell my parents about this.

X-rays revealed no fractures, just bruising and some muscle damage and I had fun comparing different types of digital x-ray equipment with the technician-I guess even when I'm not at work there is that tendency to talk shop. I was sent home on Advil and ice packs. So I'll be off work until Monday. In the meantime, I've been buried in insurance forms accident reports and the like. And just in case you're wondering, as soon as my bike and I are healed, I'll be back out riding again!

It's odd, but I've been burning the candle at both ends both physically and mentally for so long, that I knew I was due for something to happen that would slow me down. I thought it might crop up in the form of an illness; my body's rebuttal for too much working hard and playing hard. Little did I know that it would end up being Life throwing me a curve ball. This particular incident was just a warning, but I'm hoping that I never have to repeat the lesson it teaches: Life is an extremely precious gift. We need to slow down and enjoy it, whether that means spending less time at work, making more time for the things we enjoy, or simply setting limits. Whatever you do, enjoy Life and enjoy Living. We only get one shot.

Ellen M. White 7/25/07