March was a blur. Literally. I broke my face over on Brighton Blvd about a month ago. Part of my nose and a lot of my blood are forever part of the pavement. Yes, forever, at least in the horrors of my mind despite not remembering much of anything about the accident. Neither rain nor snow nor street cleaners will be able to remove the part of me that was left on that road that evening.
What happened? I don’t know for sure. I wish I could say it was something brave like saving a little girl from getting hit by a bus or something funny like fighting a mob of angry nuns or something courageous like defending a tourist from a mugging or something interesting like I fell off the spaceship as the aliens were returning me to my people.
Alas, I did fall. Off my bike. The manual kind. A cruiser bicycle. I was knocked unconscious and that in combination with the shock of the accident has made me unable to recall what happened before, during and after the fall. I was with two friends, but they were both riding in front of me and didn’t see it happen. There were no cars driving by, no buses, no aliens and no witnesses.
From my injuries, it is clear I flipped over the handlebars and never let go of said handlebars. I had scrapes all over the top of my arms, hands and knuckles. My face broke my fall with the pavement. Mostly my nose.
It’s going to sound bad because it was, but it could have been so much worse. I fractured my nose, had a huge laceration inside my nose that had to be sewed up. Dissolvable stitches inside my mouth on my lips – top and bottom. Real stitches under my nose on my upper lip and on top of my nose. Concussion. Scrapes on my forehead, right shoulder and knees. Pain everywhere.
I could have lost teeth. Hell, I could have lost my life. Good thing I have a big old snout to absorb the impact. I healed fairly fast. People that don’t know me can’t tell anything happened. I still have a ways to go on the inside and have periodic headaches that are related to the concussion. My nose is getting there and it sounds like I won’t need any more surgery.
I’ll never know exactly what happened. All I know for sure is that everything is temporary. My pain. My stupidity (sometimes it’s not as temporary as it should be). The bad. And the good.
This is yet another reminder to live in the moment. Stop and smell the roses. Rage rage against the dying of the light. Seize the moment. Do things. Say what needs to be said. Go for it. Hug your kids. Tell your parents you love them. Be kind. Give. Love and be loved. Chase your dreams and make them real.
It can all go away faster than a face-plant over the handlebars. When you fall off your bike or horse or hippopotamus you are supposed to bounce right back up and get on again. Thankfully I can hop right back on. Not everyone is so lucky.