And Now, The Rest of the Story

Since a single word is likely not sufficient on this issue, I offer you this longer explanation.

First of all, I am fine. Shaken, stiff and still scared. But I am fine.

I shall set the scenario. You are welcome to gasp at the scary moments and giggle at the nonsensical bits. I am certain that some moment soon, I will laugh a little about it too.

I was cycling toward my home yesterday afternoon. (I had spent my day off doing IMPORTANT STUFF like getting my nails done and shopping. My plan was to drop my shopping bags off at the house and then continue my ride out to the school to pick up Andrew from the After School Care.) I was not quite underway (stopped at the red light at the intersection) when Emma called me as she had just arrived home and was wondering where I was. I told her that I was on my way and would see her in about 2 minutes. The light turned green, I tucked my phone into my coat pocket and set off down the bike path.

Just one street away from home as I was cycling this way==> I saw a car on the cross street preparing to enter the main street I was riding parallel to. As is law in this country, as a bike I have right of way to travel first and automobiles are required to yield.

But she didn't.

She accelerated.

I pulled hard on my brakes, realized I was too close to be able to pull off a full stop and tried to swerve forward around the front of her car (risking the dart into oncoming traffic).

I failed.

Her car struck my left hip which caused me to tip, bike and all, into and onto her car. After that moment it all gets a little fuzzy to me and the next moment I have coherent memory of I was lying on the street with a blanket under my head. Millions (okay, a dozen) bystanders were swirling around me shouting directions at each other and asking me a million (yes, a million) questions in rapid-fire Dutch. In the midst of all that chaos the only thing that seemed reasonable (this is one of the non-sensical bits) for me to do was to fish in my pocket for my phone and call Don. So I did.

At that point I couldn't tell you the order of events really. I know there was loads of panic and at some point while I was talking to Don, Emma came running from the house, my colleagues from work arrived (Don made all these phone calls simultaneously while talking to me) and someone shoved a phone into my hand to speak to the ambulance dispatch. Later Ian called from home to ask where I was and as soon as I told him what happened he came running too, with the house phone still in his hand.

The police arrived. The ambulance arrived. They cordoned off the scene with red tape. (When I do something, I do like to do it big!) And after what seemed like a million years (plus one) I was checked out, statemented out, and released to go home.

That's where I am now. Feeling very lucky.