Almost a week ago, I came to in the CAT Scan tube at Memorial Hospital here in Colorado Springs. And that memory is fuzzy at best. The last thing I remember before that was talking to some people at the neighborhood watering hole.
When I finally became cognizant, I was talking to a policeman and ER staff who told me I had been in a bicycle accident. Actually at that point, I think they were doing most of the talking. They weren't sure what happened, maybe I got hit by a car, maybe I took a spill.
Nonetheless, I was messed up. My face was a bloody swollen mess, some of my teeth were bent in (not broken!) and my left eye was swollen so much I couldn't see out of it.
My friend Jeremy picked me up from the ER, after a few hours I called him to take pharmacy for painkillers, I was in pain. In the meantime the (her words) psychotic ex girlfriend learned what happened and told me in no uncertain terms that she was going to watch me until my sister got here. And then she took care of me until then. And made me juice, and put towels on me to soak up the blood. My left eye oozed blood for the first two days.
That was day one.
Since that day there has so many people helping and offering to help, I was overwhelmed. Currently my brother is here for about a week.
I ended up breaking about 10-15 bones in my face but they were all clean enough that I don't need any surgery. Somehow I managed not to sustain a head wound (I think because my face took the brunt of the impact) and no brain damage. However, I did crack the upper palate in my mouth and now have my jaw wire shut for 3-6 weeks.
But I'm pretty damn lucky. I'm lucky to be alive and to have come out of this as unscathed as I did. I suspect this could be one of those defining events for me.
As to what happened, I have no idea. It still hasn't come back to me. Last night I went back to the bar where the ambulance picked me up and got a few details filled. What I can piece together is that some woman called 9-11 saying that there was someone laying in the road by the post office. After she called, I somehow managed to get up and go back to the bar for help. The bartender that was working that night told me I didn't know my name, where I was and what happened. I just showed up at the back door of the bar like something out of a horror movie.
What I suspect happened is I got clipped or hit by a car. I've taken spills on my bike when intoxicated before but not like this. There were no marks on my hands for one.
I'll never know exactly what happened that night. I'm glad to still be here though.
