I was driving along King Road on my way to my friend Mary's to return a vase. Then I planned to swing up to Trader Joe's to look for some different snacks to take with us on our annual winter trip to Seaside. A final destination, and one of real pleasure, would be a stop at the yarn store for a leisurely look-see at what's new and what might catch my eye for a new project.
Out of nowhere, I was flung backwards. I saw my mittened hands fly in front of my face and heard the sound of a blunt impact. I saw the windshield begin to spiderweb crack in the lower left hand corner as smoke billowed up from the engine and began pouring into my car. I could barely breathe as my knees slammed into the dash. I don't know what happened in the next few moments as I struggled to understand what happened and where I would land. The next thing I knew, a man in a yellow sweatshirt was yanking on my door asking if I was all right. No. I was not. But within the next several minutes, he managed to get the car door open and I was tended to by a paramedic. Next, I was led to a bench not far from the sidewalk. Pat came soon and we took off for the emergency room. I had bruises, bumps, and contusions. Some of my ribs were bruised. My right knee was extra swollen and hurt badly. By the next day, my chest would be swollen and the right side was very black and very blue as if a tattoo artist had dropped the ink and let it run off my shoulder and into my armpit. Not a pretty sight whatsoever. But I was okay. Nothing was broken, bent or twisted. The doctor said I'd recover within a couple of weeks.
I was hit by someone making a left turn into the front of my car. She "didn't see me" because she was looking for a parking place. She was cited for making a dangerous left turn, for being uninsured, for driving with a suspended license and for endangering the life of a minor. No one in her car was hurt, thank goodness.
Now, almost two weeks later, I am still without a car. I'm trying to be patient. I'm trying to understand that my insurance will pay for her mistaken judgement because she doesn't have any. I have forgiven her but the experience is one I'm having trouble letting go of.
You can help yourself and me by driving extra carefully from here on. Understand that you can be hit and not even see it coming. That was the scary part.