Life Escapes Us Fast Enough — Why is Everyone in a Hurry?
Rush hour is all day and night
People movers are flying faster than a speeding bullet train on the highway, residential streets, and school zones like it’s the Indy 500 morning, noon, and night — no matter the road conditions.
Kids are in a mad rush to grow up. My job doesn’t allow me to savor the moment — always looking 30–60–90 days ahead for any profit to be eked out of every crevice in the marketplace. While everyone else is living in the current month, my life forges three months ahead.
For me it’s already mid-summer. Fourth of July — bees are swarming the picnic. Can I just breathe?
Your job shouldn’t make your life go by faster.
Then Wednesday morning on my way to work, three minutes from home, I’m at a complete stop behind traffic waiting for the light to change when BOOM — a huge Ford truck rams me into the GMC truck in front. No, this isn’t my first rodeo, and the third time is not the charm.
I grab my head because it feels like my brain shifted — again. Immediately, I feel a pain in my neck, lower back, and right hip. Each accident exacerbates the injury from the last — just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
The insurance companies don’t give a shit. You’ll have lifelong effects of prickly nerve damage and muscle pain because your spine is out of alignment, placing extreme pressure and inflammation on your spinal nerves.
You’ll need a chiropractor for the rest of your life because your body isn’t built to handle the impact of metal crashing into metal and fiberglass while you sit still inside the miracle machine with powers to move you from one place to another at your own risk.
They try to lowball you on the appraisal like it’s their personal savings they’re giving up making your car whole again — say girl bye and think that should be the end. Umm, no.
You’re paying for treatment, time off from work, vino, and lavender bath salts to calm my nerves and anything else deemed a residual effect from the unlucky position of being in front of your maniacal client when he bashes into my car — all while minding my own business sitting at a light.
The sheer audacity of one insurance company to request a deposition when my lawyer asked for more compensation. For what — you think I’m faking? You and your client admitted guilt and you don’t want to pay for my pain, suffering, and inconvenience through no fault of my own to save your profit margin?
Such a grimy insult and grimier business model. To think a company trains their agents to lack compassion for fellow human beings, place the blame on the victim, and do everything possible to avoid paying medical expenses is mind-boggling.
They probably have a cheat sheet of rebuttals on each of their desks entitled, “10 Reasons Why We Won’t Pay You a Penny More.”
Sorry guys, but in my case it’s always a man — two times in a truck. At least this guy was very apologetic, couldn’t help but admit fault since he hit me from behind. Plus, the trauma had me visibly dazed. It took me a few minutes to emerge from my car. My gait was wavering.
Imagine being sandwiched in between two big trucks being pushed forward and then halted as if you ran into a metal wall. The guy never tried to stop — no warning of screeching brakes, nada. I overheard him on the phone saying he was only going five to ten miles, never braked. Right.
Since I was down the street from home, I called the hubby. He’s always good for a rescue — my superhero. He called our neighbor — a retired policewoman. She gave him a number to call and advised him to request an ambulance too, based on what he told her of my demeanor.
I felt like a cartoon character with stars circling my head. I must have looked like one too — the hubby suggested I sit down.
The police appeared within two minutes. Who doesn’t need that number on speed dial? They asked for my registration and driver’s license and took a police report — the ambulance followed.
By this time, I was sitting down on the passenger side in my car, still trying to gather my senses — wearing the expression WTF just happened?
The accident a couple of years ago, the man got out or his car, met me at my car window and said in a heavy accent, “it is fate.”
“Huh? Fate is your excuse for not paying attention? I’m married and you’re not my type, freak.” But I digress.
By the time the ambulance arrived, the hubby was holding court with all the policemen. He knows half the department from going to college with many of them and working in the school district for over 30 years. His school’s gym often used for their basketball league games.
They escorted him back home since he had to take both cars and our dog. My car looked jacked in front and back, but drivable.
The street looked like a major crime scene with three police cars, the fire department and four cars pulled over. The EMT came over to take my vitals. My blood pressure and heart rate slightly elevated, but not so alarming they felt compelled to take me.
They said if I wanted, they would take me to the hospital or if I felt well enough, my husband could take me later. I stood up to see how I felt, and my head started swimming — I was dizzy.
“Whoa. I think I’ll let you all take me.”
I’d never been inside an ambulance before. Creepy. The nice EMT cuffed me with the blood pressure sleeve, put the white plastic finger clip on my index finger, taped electrodes to my wrists and ankles, and strapped me on the gurney. Is this what it feels like to be in a straight jacket? Geez.
Then they asked for my insurance card, social security number, and what meds I’m on. None. I don’t do meds.
One of the EMTs commented there was no way I could be my age. “Oh believe me — I’ve earned these years, honey.” They chuckled.
During the ride, their radio was constantly chirping with new emergencies. One location I recognized as my mom’s residential complex name and address — someone there couldn’t breathe. Weird.
What are the odds? My mom passed away a year ago this past February. Maybe she was trying to say hello.
Stranger things have happened.
All checked out fine at the hospital. No fractures — it could have been much worse. I thanked the universe and my divine court of guardian angels for that and took off from work for the next couple of days to get some rest.
Facts
- Rear-end crashes are the most frequently occurring type of collision, accounting for approximately 29 percent of all crashes and resulting in a substantial number of injuries and fatalities each year.
- Common contributing factors include driver distractedness — namely cell phone use, speeding, and fatigue.
I’d feel remiss if I didn’t leave a public service announcement for my speed demons and people with hurry sickness. It’s simple. No accident graph charts, mindfulness quips, long passages on how to live your life.
SLOW DOWN.
The life you save may be your own. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
Other life lessons.