Lately, I managed to work out more and more. Once I come to Lisbon we get into a schedule of four workouts a week. It does not feel forced, it does not feel like an obligation. It actually became part of the routine.
Last Wednesday, we worked out, and were trying to figure out what to eat. The lovely sushi shop was our answer! After hitting the order button for a yummy poke bowl and some sushi we hopped on our scooter and started heading home. It was a bit rainy and windy but nothing unusual… until … the moment this guy jumped on the road without looking.
Not to hit him, my man had to turn the wheel hard and hit the breaks a little. Despite the fact that we were going with 35 km/h, we slipped and made a fall.
Two seconds before we made the fall, I saw the guy jumping on the road but did not think one second it would affect us, but we fell.
I hit the wet asphalt on my left side and I couldn’t breath. I moaned out of panic, my side was hurting bad. My man got up and came over to me, he was okay, and started asking me where the pain was and whether i was okay.. I was okay but not fine.
He helped me out of my helmet and my backpack.
I couldn’t get up.
Cars were passing.
Rain was dripping lightly.
People gathered around me.
I finally managed to move into a sitting position.
The guy who jumped on the road had already called the ambulance while I was trying to convince them that I was okay. When they asked me what was hurting, I said my ribs.
They said they cannot take the risk as it can impact my lungs and it could become dangerous.
I got up, breathing was hurting me, and we sat at the bus stop nearby, waiting for the ambulance.
My hands were shaking and burning. Shaking because of the scare and burning because of the scratches. Three ladies showed up suddenly who saw the accident happening from the cafe across the street. They had water and juice in their hands. At that moment, my belief in humanity was restored. All these people I didn’t know were trying to help.
After a fairly long wait, the ambulance arrived.
A very nice ambulance doctor lady came over and started asking questions, I was being moved into the ambulance. I never felt more vulnerable.
The ambulance crew was comforting me and checking everything… The verdict was that we had to go to the hospital for an x-ray to be 100% certain that all was good and my lungs weren’t “stung” by my ribs so to say…
My man was outside talking to the firemen and police.
Why firemen were there, god knows. Maybe they got bored sitting at their station…
The support nurse asked me where I was from and after I told him about my dual nationality, he started speaking in both languages. I was scared, shocked, and now was trying to understand how this man knew these languages while handling my pain.
The police came in the ambulance and asked my name, I coded it letter by letter, in the end he did a better job than a Starbucks barista but still it was not my name. I couldn’t even get frustrated, my ribs were hurting damn too much. I got my driver’s license and showed them my health insurance card. Voila full name! With a lovely Portuguese accent they repeated my name and I nodded. Once all details were in the system and I was tucked into the ambulance bed, we started moving. I was still shaking because of the scare.
We started driving and I realized that I had only seen an ambulance on TV series or in movies. From the inside, I could observe all details… it was strangely calming. Later, it would occur to me what a movie like night it was.
Once we arrived at the hospital, I was brought to this room where they were registering my details. Everybody was so calm a nurse was just looking for a charger for her phone, another one was playing a game on her phone and I was just trying to make sense out of it all. Their chill mode as if they were hanging out at their homes did help me stop from shaking.
Once the paperwork was done I was moved to this room. Oh boy what a room.
It was packed. I got driven in there and put in a line. It felt like I was at a slaughterhouse waiting in the line to get chopped into pieces. No joke. I had to wait there for 2 hours before the doctor could make her way to me. During these two hours I did not have my phone with me and was just laying there. Watching people brought in and taken out … In between one nurse with bad highlights and tattoos but a great smile said with a thick Portuguese accent that my husband was waiting outside, I smiled and said thanks. I didn’t even have the energy to tell her that he was my boyfriend and that I did not believe in the concept of marriage as a result of divorced parents. Can you imagine? Haha If you know me that means I am legit tired. I looked around, the average age was 85, and that was with me calculated in, to bring the average down …
Most of them had one foot in the grave… I don’t mean this in a bad way, it simply was the truth. They were all very old, skinny, and exhausted. It was kind of sad…
The lady next to me in her pink pajamas was a nightmare though.
She could not sit still, she kept playing with her tubes and cables and moaning the name Jose every two minutes. Either her son or husband I thought…
At one point whom I assume was Jose (most probably her son) came in, tried to calm her down and left. It calmed her down for five full minutes, after this, she continued… this time she took her serum needle feeding into her vein out, there was blood everywhere! And while the nurses were trying to clean this up, I saw her vagina. Nothing wrong with vaginas. I simply was not prepared for this whole experience. I thought we were working out, getting home, enjoying some nice poke bowl and sushi, and watching a movie. So bare with my reactions.
My man came in, in the meantime, thank god! and because he understands what this lady is saying, he translated, apparently the full sentence was “Jose… Jose… why did you leave me here? Oh Jose…”
I felt like a bitch for my thoughts earlier because I thought it was kind of sad but at the same time, lady we are lined up here like some sacrificial lambs for eid, stop fighting it!
The doctor came, nicely explained the situation, approved my x-ray and now the wait started for the x-ray but I had to pee soooo badly. Asked the nurse, she said no, we cannot take that risk before the doctor’s diagnostics. I asked for a solution, she said she could give me a diaper. HELL NO! I am not that dead, I would rather explode than pee in a diaper. So the waiting started again… with a lot more pressure.
The mr. left to drop off the bags and scooter at home, the brave heart he is, he hopped on the scooter and followed me to the hospital… I am scared to see the scooter now. Anywho he dropped the stuff, picked up the food and grabbed an uber so we could go home together in the same vehicle.
Got my x-ray done, the doctor came and said the magic words ‘you are free as a bird with a broken wing’ I thought I take that, it will heal itself. She said she would give some pain killers because the pain will last 3 weeks, fuck my life but okay. This whole thing could have been much worse. So, thankful I am!
You remember when we were little and were “brave” at the doctor’s they would give us candy. The candy they probably got from the dentist next door, they had a deal with, who had our whole generation in fillings and braces….
Well the grown up version of that is pain killers, in fluid format, full on delivered in your veins. After this treat, I was allowed to go.
One problem, the needle got in, and I started to see stars, Looney Tunes Coyote style and started sweating. I said to the nurse, excuse me but I need food and my poke bowl is outside with the mr. can I have it?
Her face said it all: “You entitled millennial bitch, shut up, be happy nothing is broken, take your drugs, and you will eat your damn bowl after” but of course verbally it translated into “A little more patience dear, you are almost done”
Drugged up, I left the hospital and looked for him, he dressed me up and we went home. I was happy to be home, safe, fractured but in one piece with him.
It was 2AM we were both drained we had some food, updated some on the situation, and went to bed.
The next morning, I woke up with one thing on my mind, – !cliche alert! – we are so fragile but full of power, we owe it to ourselves to just live to the fullest because it can be over in a split second. So my millennial ass will keep enjoying life and be thankful for everything including vegan people.
I also really do hope that the lady in the pink pajamas is back home with Jose at her side enjoying some Pasteis de Natas because I felt bad for her and the nurses there…
So, moral of the story, always look to your left and right before crossing a street.