And So How was Your New Years?
I spent my New Year's Eve in hospital. San Francisco General Hospital, to be exact. And since I'm being exact, here's another tidbit: I'm still here. At hospital.
I have bruises on both arms and I've had body hair ripped off of me in many inglorious places. I've been stuck with sharp things. And these all happened after I got to the hospital.
No longer am I a person who's never had a broken bone—I now have two. No longer a person who's ever been in an ambulance. No longer a person who's never crashed his Vespa. No longer a person who's never been admitted to the hospital as an adult.
I'm still kind of a mess. I have two fractured ribs as a result of the accident. I still have a chest tube. I am still in the kinds of pain I wouldn't wish on anyone, even as a joke or a curse.
More people have seen my naked hairy ass here at hospital than they have in literallyminutes at Daddy's or the Lone Star.
Here's how it all went: I was heading over to J.'s in the Castro to drop off a gift and for him to do a huge favor for me. I headed up 17th Street and had just crossed (after stopping) the intersection at Sanchez. It was raining lightly. There are MUNI tracks embedded the blacktop of the road surfaces there. I carefully, methodically—like I have done for the past seven years avoided the actual surfaces of the rails, especially when wet. Of course, I was going to be making a right turn onto Noe St., so I carefully, methodically, attentively—as I had done countless times before, maneuvered the Vespa across one of the tracks (I was driving on the pavement between two rails). The perfect combination of sliding and then catching in the groove in the pavement between rail and roadway knocked the vespa far enough out of travel angle that it caught, dumped me, and went skidding on ahead. As I had just come out of a stop sign at an intersection I was going no more than 15 mpg so for me, it was more like clumsily falling off the side of the Vespa—until my body hit the roadway.
Then I slid—skidded, really—and tumbled enough such that mid level of the right side of my ribcage on my back was positioned just right to slam into the tire of a parked car.
I was screaming in pain. Or rather I would have been screaming in pain had I not just had the wind knocked out of me. The real terror started when I was able to breath in what I thought were great lungfuls a few moments later, but I was still gasping as if I wasn't able to get enough oxygen.
I have many things to write about, but I'm still collecting my thoughts into an incoherent whole, and these kinds of futile tasks take time, people!
Suffice it to say that thanks to the grand loving actions taken by total strangers in San Francisco, the SF PD and the SF FD and the fine, fine overworked and underappreciated medical staff of SF General Hospital, I am on the mend—tho knowhere near mended.
This sucks...even more than the chest tube that's still drawing fluids and air out of my thorax. There is no upside. No matter how much I may learn from this and no matter how many friends I may make and no matter how much I've learned even more to appreciate my friends, my hubby and San Francisco in general, this episode sucks, has sucked, will suck, will continue to suck.
Pain is the devil, and the least spiritual thing I can think of.
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Comments
I'm glad to hear you're well enough to blog. That must be a good sign. My thoughts are with you, even though I can't be.
Posted by: Lee(Skittles) | January 3, 2006 01:25 AM
Glad to hear you are on the mend but I know how bad chest tubes can hurt :(
Posted by: David | January 3, 2006 01:40 AM
Ouch. I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm glad to see you're healing. -C.
Posted by: mags | January 3, 2006 01:50 AM
Pain sucks.
Sorry about your spill, and hope you mend quickly.
Posted by: Mark | January 3, 2006 02:07 AM
I'm so very sorry. The healing process is, unfortunately, often a long one. My best thoughts are with you.
Posted by: Curtis | January 3, 2006 02:59 AM
So glad you're OK, Bro...
Sorry to hear about that nasty spill, yes it sucks, but you're still here with us.
Hope you get back to 100% in the blink of an eye.
Peace,
=RD=
Posted by: RainbowDemon | January 3, 2006 03:03 AM
Well, the fact that you're writing this tells me you in better shape than the last time I saw you. Hang in there and let me know if I can be of any assistance, seriously.
Posted by: Matt Consola | January 3, 2006 04:46 AM
Honey, I am so glad that you are alive, and able to be feeling the pain.
Yes, Pain sucks big fat horse cock, and there is no upside, other than you aren't dead. And that is probably only an upside for those of us who love you.
I promise to make ya a delicious meal and deliver it to ya whenever ya want, just let me know. HUGS
Posted by: sillynun | January 3, 2006 04:49 AM
I freaked when I read Sam's blog. But then I realized that true evil never dies, so I just mocked you in voice mails and text messages until you felt better enough to respond...
This does, however, mark the end of my use of "sucking chest wound" in a joking context. But I won't stop using "love child" that way. Oh no.
Posted by: Josh | January 3, 2006 04:52 AM
Oh Jeff, I'm sorry about your accident. My Mummy fell and cracked ribs while at my house in November, so I know from her how painful it is. Hope you get better soon.
Posted by: homer | January 3, 2006 05:36 AM
Glad to see an update on your blog. Please get well soon. Keep us updated.
Posted by: mark | January 3, 2006 06:39 AM
Hey Jeff,
Wow, all I can say is please get better soon, and it's a good thing we didn't make any definitive plans :) I'm sending you an email but just wanted to reply here with good thoughts for a speedy recovery.
Take care,
Steve
Posted by: Steve O'Brien | January 3, 2006 10:38 AM
OMG. I crashed my scooter on the same intersection under the same conditions about 7 years ago. Ouch! Get well soon, man!
Posted by: victor | January 4, 2006 01:10 AM
Does this mean I can start calling you Skiddy instead of Skippy?
I'm so sorry to hear about this, but I'm glad to hear you're mending, at the least. Don't you be going anywhere, if you know what I mean. And I mean that.
Still, I think I'm gonna start calling you Skiddy. Skid-Mouse? Roadkill? Hmmm... I'll get back to you on that.
And don't forget that Fonzie eventually got better after he fell off his bike. Just stop trying to jump parked cars with the Vespa and you'll do fine.
(Sorry if I made you laugh with the chest tube. Argh.)
Posted by: palochi | January 4, 2006 02:11 AM
Hang in there. All my best to you and Sam.
Posted by: John in Denver | January 4, 2006 03:48 AM
Oh, poppet! Get well soon, kay?
Posted by: Glittering Lee | January 4, 2006 05:46 AM
Thank God. When I read the title, I thought you'd been hit by the train. Seriously.
Not that this is great comfort for you. . .but as I read about train tracks and broken ribs. . .you may see where I got the idea.
I share your wariness of opiates and other depressants. . .yet, I once read that excess pain can actually hinder recovery. Maintain your wariness, and hinder the pain as much as is reasonable.
Take good care, get well soon.
-h
Posted by: hoody | January 4, 2006 10:12 AM
We were all stunned when we read about your mishap on Sam's blog. Here's wishing you a speedy recovery and hopefully less pain very soon.
Posted by: albert | January 4, 2006 11:49 AM
OUCH!
I am glad that you're going to be OK. *hugs*
Posted by: Scott | January 4, 2006 12:32 PM
Damn! Sorry to hear about your accident. Those infernal scooters! They're the devil's work, I tell ya. Anyway, my thoughts are with you. Get well soon and put this sucky experience behind you.
Posted by: John | January 6, 2006 05:01 AM