Beauty in the Crash

“What the hell? I can’t afford this!”

“Ooh shit. Christina. Get up. Christina!!! You’re in the middle of traffic”

“Why is my motorcycle sliding away from me. Why am I sideways?”

“Omg, I wrecked”

“Am I supposed to hurt?”

When the sun rose, I remember thinking it would be an awesome day. I glanced over at the night stand to re-read the lesson plan I had written the night before. I was psyched to try it, to see how my first lesson and teaching experience would go.

But instead, all of the above thoughts were jumbled together in one large thought…  a thought I didn’t think.  Or understand. Or really process happening while it was happening.  But it did happen. There was my bike on its side in an intersection. I was not on it. And I wasn’t standing up.

The next few minutes were a blur. People were helping me up. Paramedics were putting on gloves trying to look at my bloody knee and hands. The cops were asking me if I wanted to go to the hospital.  No I didn’t want to. He was sweet… He realized I wasn’t thinking clearly. He got down to my level and said it would make him feel much better if I agreed to get checked out.  Apparently I agreed because next thing I know, I’m being asked who the president is on my way to the ER. I was too numb and shaken to feel anything.  

So what happened?

I was approaching the intersection and wasn’t sure if the truck was coming or stopping. You can never be too sure with New Mexican drivers. Many of them think stopping is optional. I braked. But I braked on a weird and slippery small town cross walk (concrete, metal, or whatever it was). Apparently I used too much front brake, so the bike slid one way while I slid the other. All it took was a second.

The x-rays revealed nothing broken, just some bad bruising. I’m sore all over, it hurts to talk and breath with my chest so sore, but hey, life is still good.  The stupidest thing? A week before I burned my summer riding gloves on the exhaust pipe . I wore my winter gloves to Artesia, but decided not to wear them from the coffee shop to my client’s house since it was only half a mile and it was hot… seriously, what could happen in half a mile?  So I have no one to blame except myself that my hands are currently wrapped up in bandages.

I’m thankful to see beauty in the crash. How? I experienced the kindness of strangers, friends, and those who make it their job to ensure public safety. My landlord dropped everything and came running when he found out I was in the hospital. A friend was ready to drive to me from Denver to make sure me and my bike would be ok. My landlord’s friends showed up on the dime when I realized my bike wouldn’t start and got it running. My landlord’s son’s friend (who has experience with motorcycles) came right over to make sure the bike would still be safe to ride and fixed the smooshed gear shift for me. My boss was on text call all day with me constantly checking in. And reading so much love and well wishes on Facebook, texts, and email while lying in throbbing all-over-the-body pain was touching and encouraging.   I didn’t ask for all of this. The love just flowed!

Life is beautiful.  I am thankful for quality protective gear (helmet, thick armored jacket) that saved me from harm.  The love and beauty surrounding me will get me through the night and the following days of healing. I am grateful. Thank you.