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jinianLet me start off as I started off with Wim: I am okay. By my saying that, you know that I'm not badly hurt and that something has happened. On a less concrete level, you also know that I'm able to type, because if something just happened I probably don't have a voice transciption program all set up.
The bike's rear brakes had given out some time ago, leaving only the front set, and last night I decided to go to City Greens after picking up the new Girl Genius (it's finally out!) and Hopeless Savages at the comic store. There's a downhill slope between them that has never seemed so big before.
It was raining. The brakes were thoroughly wet, which I'd expected, so I started braking early and only became worried when the brakes didn't seem to be catching at all. I was going pretty fast by the bottom of the one-block downslope. I chose to zip through the intersection rather than deliberately wipe out, because the walk signal was on.
The brakes still failed once I was on the flat. At some point I gave up on gripping them and chose to focus on steering. I thought I could go into the Asean parking lot and turn to bleed off speed, but they had curbs in there that I'd never noticed and taking flight didn't seem too appealing. I aimed for the alley instead. I was just about out of options; I don't know what I thought I was going to do in the alley, but the next intersection was full of cars and there was nowhere else to go.
The alley was narrow. As it turned out, it was rather too narrow for someone going like a bat out of hell to turn into adequately. I realized that I was going to hit the wall and maybe be knocked off the bike after all. The cost/benefit analysis apparently came out in favor of assuming a guard position rather than taking heroic measures to avoid the wall.
This is where the thwack comes in.
I heard a loud noise as my helmet hit the wall. I felt the impact through the right side of my body; I hadn't completed the turn, but I'd hit at about a 60-degree angle. One thing I didn't do was go limp on impact. I had tensed up a lot when I finally noticed just how quickly that wall was coming toward me.
Jumping to my feet is just what I do when I've been in an accident. I don't know if it's to convince others that I'm all right, or if I'm trying to convince myself, or if it's just some automatic body self-check. All of those have their points, and I've thought about it a bit since last night. Nothing says it only has one cause, I suppose. At any rate, the next thing I remember after the impact is jumping to my feet. I didn't have to disentangle myself from the bike, so I must have been knocked free, but it was right at my feet, so I didn't go far. The handlebars had been wrenched sideways in an impressive but repairable-looking fashion.
My head felt a pain like one note from the pain I feel when I get hit in the nose. The airy, ringing, strangely insulated pain, if that makes sense to anyone but me. That went away very quickly. I felt no disorientation. I had scrapes on knees and right arm, and my palms hadn't lost any skin but they felt raw and had a couple of tiny punctures.
So I wheeled the bike across the street to City Greens, managing to amuse myself along the way by trying to balance the bike against my leg so I could pull up my sleeve to examine my arm owies. It just wasn't happening with the handlebars pointed almost parallel to the front wheel. I left the bike and helmet on the rack behind the store.
I went shopping. I only needed one thing, and I was right there. I still wanted it. When I was done, I walked back to University to catch a bus home. Lucky me. I barely missed one. I felt a lot better by the time I reached University, though, so I set out to walk home. And I ran the rest of my errands on the way.
When I got home, I became shocky and freaked out. I'd locked it down fine while in public, but it was time to react. I called Wim and blathered at him for a while, then he came over. There was processing -- I now think I did about as well with the incident as I could have, which is a fair way to come from beating myself up about it. We read comics and ate food from Mandarin Chef, where the staff are apparently agreed that two years is long enough for us to date before getting married. I stayed under blankets and turned on the heat, and by the time I went to sleep I was a lot less cold and shaky.
This morning I'm fine. I've got some low-level stress and one of my bruises is extremely painful, but I'm at work and all is cool.
Sympathy and alarm are really not necessary. I know people care about me and that's why I'm teling the story. Criticism is actively unwelcome, so please don't post any of it. I'm leaving responses open for the moment.
The bike's rear brakes had given out some time ago, leaving only the front set, and last night I decided to go to City Greens after picking up the new Girl Genius (it's finally out!) and Hopeless Savages at the comic store. There's a downhill slope between them that has never seemed so big before.
It was raining. The brakes were thoroughly wet, which I'd expected, so I started braking early and only became worried when the brakes didn't seem to be catching at all. I was going pretty fast by the bottom of the one-block downslope. I chose to zip through the intersection rather than deliberately wipe out, because the walk signal was on.
The brakes still failed once I was on the flat. At some point I gave up on gripping them and chose to focus on steering. I thought I could go into the Asean parking lot and turn to bleed off speed, but they had curbs in there that I'd never noticed and taking flight didn't seem too appealing. I aimed for the alley instead. I was just about out of options; I don't know what I thought I was going to do in the alley, but the next intersection was full of cars and there was nowhere else to go.
The alley was narrow. As it turned out, it was rather too narrow for someone going like a bat out of hell to turn into adequately. I realized that I was going to hit the wall and maybe be knocked off the bike after all. The cost/benefit analysis apparently came out in favor of assuming a guard position rather than taking heroic measures to avoid the wall.
This is where the thwack comes in.
I heard a loud noise as my helmet hit the wall. I felt the impact through the right side of my body; I hadn't completed the turn, but I'd hit at about a 60-degree angle. One thing I didn't do was go limp on impact. I had tensed up a lot when I finally noticed just how quickly that wall was coming toward me.
Jumping to my feet is just what I do when I've been in an accident. I don't know if it's to convince others that I'm all right, or if I'm trying to convince myself, or if it's just some automatic body self-check. All of those have their points, and I've thought about it a bit since last night. Nothing says it only has one cause, I suppose. At any rate, the next thing I remember after the impact is jumping to my feet. I didn't have to disentangle myself from the bike, so I must have been knocked free, but it was right at my feet, so I didn't go far. The handlebars had been wrenched sideways in an impressive but repairable-looking fashion.
My head felt a pain like one note from the pain I feel when I get hit in the nose. The airy, ringing, strangely insulated pain, if that makes sense to anyone but me. That went away very quickly. I felt no disorientation. I had scrapes on knees and right arm, and my palms hadn't lost any skin but they felt raw and had a couple of tiny punctures.
So I wheeled the bike across the street to City Greens, managing to amuse myself along the way by trying to balance the bike against my leg so I could pull up my sleeve to examine my arm owies. It just wasn't happening with the handlebars pointed almost parallel to the front wheel. I left the bike and helmet on the rack behind the store.
I went shopping. I only needed one thing, and I was right there. I still wanted it. When I was done, I walked back to University to catch a bus home. Lucky me. I barely missed one. I felt a lot better by the time I reached University, though, so I set out to walk home. And I ran the rest of my errands on the way.
When I got home, I became shocky and freaked out. I'd locked it down fine while in public, but it was time to react. I called Wim and blathered at him for a while, then he came over. There was processing -- I now think I did about as well with the incident as I could have, which is a fair way to come from beating myself up about it. We read comics and ate food from Mandarin Chef, where the staff are apparently agreed that two years is long enough for us to date before getting married. I stayed under blankets and turned on the heat, and by the time I went to sleep I was a lot less cold and shaky.
This morning I'm fine. I've got some low-level stress and one of my bruises is extremely painful, but I'm at work and all is cool.
Sympathy and alarm are really not necessary. I know people care about me and that's why I'm teling the story. Criticism is actively unwelcome, so please don't post any of it. I'm leaving responses open for the moment.
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owwwww.
Date: 2001-12-13 10:39 am (UTC)i am pleased that you are not broken. yay for not being broken!