Today was an absolutely gorgeous early fall day. I drove around with the sunroof open, radio playing some good oldies, and life was great.
Until I got rear-ended. I’m like a magnet for people who aren’t paying attention.
I’ve been in several accidents over the years, and I’ve never been at fault. This isn’t me whining about how it wasn’t my fault. Everyone who has ever hit me has been deemed responsible by the cops at the scene, and the insurance companies involved in the claims. Every. Single. Time.
Because of past auto accidents, I’ve had back surgery, leg and knee surgeries, and most recently, shoulder surgery involving not just the rotator cuff like everyone else in a similar accident; I had to have my bicep fixed, too, because I don’t do anything half-assed. I’ve lain on a table while doctors stitched me up, and removed glass from my eyes, and face, and torso. I’ve used crutches so often, I have my own pair. I’ve taken so much pain medication over the years I can tell which ones work, and how fast. There isn’t a single part of my body that hasn’t been screened with an x-ray machine, ultrasound, MRI, or CAT scan, and I have the films to prove it.
Thank goodness I didn’t get another ambulance ride this time. I’m shook up, but think I’m okay. Tomorrow will tell me if I’m wrong.
Many years ago, I joked about my unique ability to make money from people running into me. It’s really not funny anymore.
But this isn’t a post about the the financial ramifications of being in a car wreck, or the ugly dents in my pretty new car. It has nothing to do with people who cause an accident because they are completely self-absorbed. It’s not about asshole attorneys who squeeze every last dime out of the insurance companies, and make sure they get paid before anyone else. It’s not even about how expensive auto insurance is, and how you pay for it, hoping you’ll never have to use it. And when you do, they charge you even more.
No. This is about something wonderful that happened to me today.
In the midst of the chaos, when I didn’t cry, really, three different people got involved who didn’t have to. Three Good Samaritans who stopped to see if everyone was okay. People who called 911 because both the motorcyclist who ran into me, and I, were too stunned to think of it first. Good guys who got the license plate and description of the pickup that ran the red light and caused the whole thing, and then sped out of there. The same amazing folks who waited for the police so they could tell them what they saw.
In some parts of the US, it might not have turned out that way. In some other part of my own city, it might not have happened at all. But it did happen today because I live in a neighborhood where people care about one another. They confirmed my belief that there are a lot of really good people in the world. And that is pretty freaking awesome.
Thanks to Marilyn, and Dama, and Bill. You are the good guys.