But this past Wednesday, Old Christine, that treacherous, demonic vehicle must have decided to get allll KINDSA serious, because she was rolling down my driveway with a vengeance. And with my right foot still in the cab. I tried to stop her, but with my driveway being on a slight incline Christine was gaining speed, and fast. Instinct was to protect my head and face as the open driver’s-side door took me down. Horror-struck, I watched as Old Christine’s front grill, encrusted with calcified insect carcasses, twisted into a heinous, sly grin, her headlight eyes glaring at me like two giant, cataract-covered orbs of evil. She aimed her big, powerful front tire and CRRRRUUUUNNNCHED it slowly and deliberately over my right foot. A primal wail of pain and anger wrenched from deep within my soul. With a garbled “NOOOOOOO!” I reached out an arm in Christine’s direction, trying with all my might to summon telekenetic powers and MAKE HER STOP. I imagined in a panicked frenzy of vivid images that Christine would just keep going. Backward she would roll across the street crashing into houses. All through the neighborhood she would go, leaving nothing in her wake but devastating death and destruction. Undoubtedly that was her ultimate dastardly goal but her old age and decrepit state got the best of her. Old Christine came to an exhausted stop just across the street in my neighbor’s yard. She heaved a noisy, satisfied sigh and fell silent.
I turned my attention back to my injuries. The pain in my foot was becoming more and more excruciating. It was already swelling up, becoming a sickening patchwork of blues, grays and purples. The bright burgundy spots of blood, where my foot had been ground into the pavement added a whole new level of gruesomeness. My left knee was also a bloody, bruised mess. Bits of driveway shrapnel was embedded into the tender skin of my palms. I attempted to get up but I honestly couldn’t figure out how to. There was soooo much pain. So I just started screaming for help. Then it dawned on me as a numb sense of clarity fought its way through the fog of pain: it was smack in the middle of the work day. No one would be home for HOURS.
In a blur of babbling and crying, I realized that the heavenly chariot was in fact, Deb’s gold-colored sedan. She was going to take me to the hospital! I visually examined my foot from the passenger’s seat. It was a mess to say the very least, but I’ll be horn swaggled if my cute lil leopard print K-mart shoe didn’t still look fabulous! Not a scratch on it! Hey, that $5 bargain probably saved my foot! Remind me to send them an email later….
Deb waited with me in the ER until Brian came. And bless her heart, she was in misery herself as she had burned her hand badly earlier that morning and was just coming back from the doctor’s office when she rescued me. I owe her MORE than Big Time!
In triage, the cute lil nurses asked confusing questions about my ‘car accident’. “Where was the accident?”
“What accident?”
“Didn’t you get hit by a car?”
“Huh. I guess I did. Huh.”
“Were you wearing a seat belt?”
“No, I wasn’t driving.”
“Someone else was driving?”
“No. My truck ran over my foot. On it’s own. No one was in it.”
After quite a few LOOKS from the staff and more that a few telling questions about my sobriety and the safety of my home life, I was shuffled off to X-ray. Less than an hour later, the doctor gave us the good news that nothing was broken! A horrific sprain and possibly some torn ligaments but no breaks! I was ace-bandaged up and sent on my way with crutches, and a couple of prescriptions for pain.
On the way home, the discussion came around to dinner plans, as it inevitably does. I was tired, cranky and in A LOT of pain. So after Brian turned down three of my suggestions in a row I verbally bitch-slapped him with “How about since your frickin’ truck RAN OVER ME TODAY you get me whatever the hell I want for dinner?!” We were quiet for a while after that.
Later, at home, we were surprised by a phone call. It was Deb saying she had dropped off dinner on our front porch! Talk about above and beyond! So Brian was off the hook and didn’t have to get me Thai food after all. But he owes me. A. Lot.
I took the next day off work, per Doctor’s Orders and hobbled back in today, alive and well, if not just a leeeetle more damaged than when my co-workers last saw me.
As for Old Christine, well, she got what she wanted after all. No, I’m not dead, but she IS reunited with her true love. Brian drove her to work today. As he will where ever he goes, because I am NEVER getting in that truck again. Ev. Er. Who knows what would happen if I did. She only got a foot this time. I can’t imagine the damage she would do with a playing field bigger than my driveway…
