I have to apologize in advance for I�m on 1000 mg of Vicodin every six hours, so I kinda act like I have a lobotomy. All of this will be explained later. Anyway, I never finished what happened on my actual birthday and since I�m so drugged, I�m not going to bother with the story version.
I woke up on Monday and putzed around the house for awhile in my pajamas. Eventually I did get dressed and I headed over to Dave and Buster�s with P, the Conqueror who have me some of the most beautiful picture frames that I�d ever seen. Dave and Buster�s really really does not want to lose its liquor license, so every single time you order a drink or enter the building, they check your ID. The rules are very strict, unless you are accompanied by a 25 year old, you must be 21 to enter at all times.
P and I decided to eat dinner first and I ordered a Bloody Mary. The waitress checked my ID and realized that it was my birthday.
�Happy Birthday! Would you like greygouse vodka in your drink?�
I naturally assumed that she was cutting me a deal since it was my birthday.
�Ok.�
We ordered our food and I sipped at the most wonderful tasting Bloody Mary I�d ever had. At the end of our meal, the various wait staff came out with a cake and candles to sing to me.
How wonderful, I thought.
That is, until I saw the bill. The sneaky little waitress had charged me for the greygouse and the cake, expecting P to foot the bill.
I really didn�t feel like arguing, I just paid the bill and took the rest out of her tip. We sauntered around the midway for awhile and I had a couple more drinks that were slightly less expensive than St. Andrews, but still obviously more expensive than making the drinks on your own. In the couple hours we were in the Midway, I amassed quite a bit of tickets and got a couple shot glasses (everyone needs shotglasses on their 21st birthday) and a stuffed monkey.
P and I said our goodbyes when I got home and I basically went straight to bed. Bandit decided to thoroughly destroy my new stuffed monkey.
Now, I�m going to fast forward to Thursday since nothing really exciting happened.
About 10 at night, I decided to head over to P�s house for some video-gaming or movie watching. On the way over there, I�d had a bad feeling about something, but brushed it off. I was used to psychosomatic bad feelings every time I left the house. After watching Final Fantasy, which was on digital cable, we both fell asleep on the couch and I awoke with a jolt, thinking I�d over slept work. I got up.
�I gotta go,� I said to P, shaking him awake. He just mumbled his usual, �k�
�No, really, I have to go,� I searched for my keys.
Fate had a plan for me at that moment. I could have found my keys earlier. P could have woken up earlier. I could have allowed myself to sleep for another half hour.
Instead, I left at the moment I did.
I drove along, aware very much at how easily my eyes were closing. I opened up the window all the way and turned up the radio.
Each stoplight had a precise time to keep me in fate�s plan.
Gradually, the sleepiness wore off and I found myself completely awake. I noticed that I had been hitting every single stoplight, so I slowed myself down when I was approaching the Square Lake and Rochester intersection so that maybe, just maybe, I would hit the green right on time.
Slowing down, didn�t work completely, for I had arrived while the middle light, the light with the green arrow directing drives to make their left turns, was still green. When the green arrow light went to red and my light turned green, I went.
I saw the headlights to my left, but just figured it was a driver waiting for his light to turn green. The lights seemed to be moving, though.
Almost as if in slow motion, I turned my head to look at the lights as I was making my way through the intersection. I knew what was going to happen and it was as if my heart prepared itself for shock mode and made me close my eyes.
I was scared even before the impact. I had seen crash tests of this same accident before. I�d been studying it for almost three years now. I said a quick prayer and before I knew it, it was over. I�d been struck in the driver�s side and my car had spun a full 180 degrees. The car was off, and for some odd reason, I tried to turn the key�.maybe it was to see if I could move out of the intersection�nothing happened. I looked at the other car and the people were emerging from it. I instinctively pulled out my cell phone and dialed 911 as I had many times before when I had merely been a witness to accidents.
�911 is this an emergency?�
�Yeah, yes, it is. I was just in a car accident and I hit my head.�
�Where are you?�
�19 mile and Rochester Road.�
�What county is that?�
How in the hell was I supposed to remember that just that moment? My head was throbbing.
�I don�t really know.�
�Does it say 19 mile or something else?�
�Square Lake Road.�
�I�ll get the Troy Police Department for you.�
�Troy Police,� another voice said.
�I�ve just been in a car accident and I struck my head,� I said, my voice starting to get the pitch of hysterics when I realized exactly what had happened. Tears started to stream down my face.
He started to ask me the same questions that the operator had asked me. I was looking around at my car and the other car. People in stopped cars were asking me if I was ok. I was so confused with the whole world asking me questions.
�Hello? Hello? Is the fire marshal there?� the voice in the phone was asking me.
I saw that a jeep had pulled up with a walkie talkie and a flashing red light on the top. At this point, I was fully crying. I asked him if he was the fire marshal and he nodded.
�Can I hang up now?� I said to the guy on the phone. He said it was ok. I hung up and ran up to the fire marshal, hysterical.
�I had the green light! They have to admit fault!� I informed the guy, remembering that I had PLPD insurance.
Meaning, if the accident is my fault, my car is not covered. If the accident is someone else�s fault, their insurance is supposed to cover my car.
�Ok, calm down, he said to me, trying to direct me toward the curb.�
�Are you alright?� he asked, noticing that I was swaying.
�I hit my head pretty hard and I�m kinda dizzy,� I said. He frowned and pulled me to the curb. He looked at the other people and asked what happened.
Their reply, I kid you not, �We no speak English so well.�
My feelings went from scared, to upset, to pure anger. However, I knew better than to act on my anger. A young, blonde cop arrived and walked towards me.
�Are you alright?�
�Not really, I�m kinda dizzy. I hit my head really hard.�
�Sit down please,� he motioned again to the curb. This time I relented, hoping it made me look more trustworthy.
�What happened?� he asked me. I was still crying, afraid of the consequences of someone else�s stupidity, afraid of getting a ticket, afraid of not being believed simply because I was young.
�I was driving east on 19 mile here when I encountered a green light at this intersection. I went through it and they,� I pointed disdainfully at the offending foreigners, �went through the light as they were heading south and collided with me.�
I said this all in between sobs, and the cop looked at me and nodded.
�Wait!� I said as he was walking away, �you have to get them to admit that they were wrong�I have PLPD insurance and it won�t cover an accident that was my fault��
He nodded again and said, �Just be thankful that you�re pretty much alright.�
I noticed that my phone was missing from the cement that I had put it on next to me. The blonde cop was talking with the two foreigners and I heard the words, �Albanian.� I knew that K, the Sorceress, if she was here would be seething with anger. (Long story, not sure if it�s my place to explain it). I also noticed that the woman had my phone and was pushing buttons.
I was about two seconds away from getting up and killing her when the paramedics came and asked me to explain to them what hurt. I realized that not only was the left side of my head throbbing, but my shoulder killed, as did my neck and arm.
�Oh shit,� I started crying for a whole new reason, afraid that something had been broken. The woman and man walked back over to me with my phone.
�Help us dial? How we call?� the asked pointing to a number written on a paper. I snatched the phone back and was about to give them a piece of my mind, when the cop ushered them away from me, and the paramedics were massaging my neck.
�We�re going to have to take you to the hospital,� they said to me.
�WHAT?� I said in terror. How was I supposed to alert my mother to where I had gone? How would I give my statement?
Before I could say anything, they were putting a brace around my neck and pulling me down to lie on a very stiff and uncomfortable board. The police officer had my license, and a different officer had my keys, registration, and insurance.
�What about all of my stuff?� I asked while I was being wheeled into the ambulance. �How will I know what happens?�
�They�ll give it back to you at the hospital,� one of the paramedics informed me.
I was starting to hope that this had all been a dream, a really bad dream. Stuff like this didn�t happen to me anymore. I abided by the traffic laws, I didn�t drink and drive, I was a good girl now with no drama.
The paramedics were doing their best to calm me down about the prospects of not being able to get to work and how badly my car was damaged. They all wished me a happy belated birthday and asked me about what I had done that night, what college I went to, where I worked, what my major was.
All in all, they were very decent people, considering they had to remain objective about whose fault the accident was and could not answer my questions.
We arrived at the hospital, much to my disappointment, without the siren. I was wheeled to a room where the cute, young, paramedic stayed with me, filling out paperwork until my mom showed up.
I was asked to sign one of the billions of documents that would follow when a doctor came in and explained that the only way that I would be getting off that board was after a few X-rays. This did not come as great news to me considering I had to go to the bathroom and that board was extremely uncomfortable. The cop arrived to tell me that he had issued the other people a ticket. I thanked him and he nodded at me. As he handed back my license and had me sign my statement, he added, �Remember, cars can be replaced, but you can�t.�
Throughout the hours that I was there, I met quite a few nice nurses, technicians, doctors, and volunteers. I wasn�t sure what else there was to do considering I was there for four hours.
When I was finally allowed to get off the board, I realized that my depth perception was worse than usual. Dimensions were off by quite a bit and it was making me sick to my stomach.
�Oh,� the doctor said when I told him of my malady, �I was toying with ordering you a head CT, but now I for sure want one.�
�A CAT scan?� I asked.
�Yeah, it doesn�t hurt.�
�I know,� I said, making sure that I didn�t add in the sarcastic comment that I wasn�t four years old.
After the cat scan and a billion X-rays with a somewhat mean technician, I was informed that I had not broken any bones and that I did not have a concussion. I merely had whip lash and he would be writing me out a few prescriptions.
Including vicodin.
They gave me 1000 mg right away which made me stare blankly down the hallway at nothing and I swear I could feel drool running down my mouth.
�Oh by the way,� the doctor said to me, �you have a small cyst on your brain.�
That snapped me back to reality.
�What?�
�Well, you were probably born with it. It�s completely harmless and there are millions of people that walk around life with them and never know until they get a cat scan. Just treat it like you would a mole, every once in a great while, have it checked out.�
With that, he left, leaving me three prescriptions, a doctor�s note for work, and a reminder that I would be in extreme pain when I finally woke up the next afternoon.
Oh joy, I thought.
We left the hospital and I arrived at home by 5:30. I started to make my phone calls. I called my dad to tell him what happened and he reacted with his usually pleasurable, �Jesus Christ, what did you do now?�
Of course he assumed it was my fault. Everything is my fault.
I explained to him what happened and his comments were peppered with his usual, �Fuckin foreigners� or whatever was applicable.
�Well, fine J, whatever, how much is this going to cost me?�
I hung up the phone feeling quite dejected.
I called P back, since he was so worried and was talking with me until my battery in my phone died. He seemed concerned, but tired, so I let him go. Finally, I called my coworker, T, the Friendly Gossip. She had been an ex girlfriend of my dad�s and had gotten me the job at Autoliv.
She knew immediately that something was wrong.
�What�s wrong hon?� she asked. I explained what had happened and the hours afterword. I tearfully asked for a ride to work until I got a new car.
�Well of course!� she said, making me feel a bit better as my eyes weighed down so heavily on me. The vicodin was really kicking in.
I also asked her to tell B, the Boss, what had happened so that he�d hear it from two sources. She agreed to and I hung up. I made two more phone calls. I called B, the Boss, begging him not to be angry with me and gave him an abridged version of what had happened. I also called AC, the Coworker, so she knew where my files were on the computer in case she needed access to them.
Finally, I closed my eyes and let myself submit to the narcotics prescribed to me.
I called into work to find out that B was very sympathetic and that AC had no questions. They both told me to go back to sleep. I got up after another hour and walked into the kitchen, hit with pain in my shoulders, head, and neck. Thankfully, mom had filled my prescriptions and was actually on the phone with someone looking for a new car for me.
It turns out that the lovely state of Michigan has this no fault law that states that since I have PLPD insurance and even though I was not at fault, the other people�s insurance company only has to pay me a maximum of $500. That, obviously, would not cover the damages. My mother�s line of thinking was that the damages to the car would be actually more than what the car was worth, so instead I should just get a new car.
After popping a couple of my vicodin, muscle relaxers, and ibuprofen, she drove over to the collision place that had sold me my escort. He apparently had a couple used cars for sale and he was trustworthy.
So, my mother is looking around for a new used car for me and today she signed the deed of my escort over to a junkyard because the damage to it will actually be more than what the car is worth. Trust me. Here are some pictures as proof (and that we�re going to use in the lawsuit):
Car 1
Car 2
Car 3
Car 4
Car 5
Car 6
Car 7
Yeah, we may sue for the difference between the $500 and the value of the car. We�re not sure yet. We may even sue for medical and lost wages, but again nothing is clear at this point.
It really bothers me though, that something was completely not my fault and now it�s going to cost me (and my family) a few grand to get me a new car.
It bothers me that two foreigners who don�t speak English walked away with their car drivable and I end up in the hospital.
It bothers me that they lied to the police and said that the light turned from yellow to red. There�s always a delay with stoplights for that reason, not to mention that this particular stoplight had the left turn stoplight with it. That means that when the light to go straight had turned red, the green arrow light came on. That means that if the green arrow light was going from yellow to red, the light they claimed had turned from yellow to red had been red for almost 10 seconds.
People are so stupid and their stupidity costs the general population money.
So, I�m just going to curl back up with my book and keep on reading, praying that my mom and I can afford another car so I can get to work.
By the way, since I have no car and am in so much pain, shame on all of you who knew that this happened to me and haven�t even had the heart to stop by to see if you could help me in some way. I�m not asking for much, just someone to keep me company for an hour or something. =P
I�m forgiving too, especially if you were thinking that I needed rest. =P
If anyone knows of any good used cars or some sound legal advice about my situation, leave me a note!
Oh, and please leave me some kind words too! Anyone! Please!
