The night I almost died
Two days ago, I was on my way home from work when I crashed my motorcycle on a corner uphill. The front wheel had lost its grip on the concrete.
The weight of my bike was on my right leg. I tried to get free of it. Nope. Maybe a little later. At this point, I fainted.
I woke up to the liberating feeling of the bike getting off my leg and sight of wheels a few inches away from my face. Some good passers-by had made a perimeter around me and the motorcycle, ushering the traffic.
I’m thankful for three things: One, I did not injure any other motorist on the road. Two, I’m alive—had I overshot the corner, I might have been rolled over by the opposing traffic. And three, nobody was behind me.
I sat down, trying to make sense of what just happened while the traffic behind me was starting to congest. I got up towards the bike. People were asking questions. I knew the answers, but didn't have the means to speak. I didn't want to be an inconvenience to these people. They're just like me, trying to get home safely.
That's when I knew that my body was in a state of shock.
I fainted (again). The other bikers caught me before I hit the ground.
Three people assisted me to the side of the road. They moved my bike to the sidewalk. Traffic flow was easing up.
One of my samaritans called "911," the police arrived 10-20 minutes later.
I got asked more questions.
Did I want to be driven in ambulance? Did I want to get home first and get some first aid there before going to the hospital? Did I have friends who will bring me to the hospital? Why do I even need to answer these questions now?
I’m not well-conditioned to answer any questions. But I had enough energy to call my wife.
The others left when once they were ensured that somebody (the police) was with me. I thanked the others before they left. Didn't get their names. And even if I did, I wouldn't remember them.
I knew I wasn't speeding. I don’t think I was. It was just a bad road.
The officer said the road isn't in good condition because of the debris the trucks leave behind everyday. Government should do something about it. He also told me that he was at the same corner the night before because of a similar incident. But the guy didn't survive. Yikes!
Despite my annoyance, the fact that I'm listening to him makes me grateful. Better this than that guy, no? The dead don't get to be pissed.
My wife arrives. I can tell that she's worried. Who wouldn’t be? Had we exchanged places, I'd be worried, too. I’d be pressing charges. Her presence calmed me.
I asked to be brought to the hospital. The ambulance arrives first, but wanted to bring us to a public hospital farther than the nearest one. Our friends arrive minutes later and we refused to proceed with ambulance.
My wife was asked to sign some waivers that we refused their means of transportation. While she was doing that, the paramedic cut my pants and cleaned my wounds. -1 Uniqlo pants in the closet.
At the hospital I was given some shots. The doctor had ordered some X-rays. And the nurse had to further clean my wounds.
A few hours later, I was told that I had no fractures. No concussions. No apparent brain damage. We got discharged shortly after hearing the news.
The next morning, my bike was brought to our apartment from our friends' house. It's in bad shape.
This is a painful lesson. Even now, the wounds sting. I thank God I didn't hit anyone else. I'm lucky to be alive.
Taking it as a sign to invest in a car.