Last Thursday, while riding back home from my lunch break, I had my third major bike accident thanks to idiot Texas drivers. Essentially, if you are not another car or a truck, drivers in Texas simply do not give a rat’s ass about you at all.
You are in their way goddammit! The nerve of your existence!
I typically ride on the sidewalk – call it twice burned. I was taking it easy since I had a Coca-Cola Slurpee in one hand. Just beyond the corner of MacArthur Boulevard and Valley Ranch Parkway is a parking lot for a dentist and a dry cleaners. I was approaching that driveway when all of a sudden there was a minivan immediately in front of me.
Of course hitting the brake with my one available hand sent me flying over the handlebars. The Slurpee was an immediate write-off…
Dazed, I still managed some damage assessment. Bike lamp was knocked off, retrieved that. Found my glasses and noted that the lenses appeared to be intact but covered in blood. No obvious broken bones. I could stand up.
The elderly (near as I could tell without my glasses on) couple had exited the minivan by now. The gentlemen gave me his handkerchief; that was when I noted blood was flowing down my face. I pressed that above my left eye.
I declined the ladies’ offer to call 911. I guess it looked pretty bad – I didn’t think it was that big a deal aside from the extreme annoyance and immediate pain that would surely subside. After a few minutes, I decided to walk back home.
The cut above my eye was quite clean. I realized that the edge of the left lens must have been pressed hard enough into the skin to slice it open.
The chin wound was actually quite a bit worse. It is several millimeters deep and probably should have required stitches.
I went to a walk-in clinic on Friday (and snapped the sidewalk picture as I hobbled past the scene) but there was no doctor that day. I had to wait until Saturday for an appointment. By then, the wounds were closed up or scabbed over. Well – except for that chin – it was too late for stitches, but the doctor stated he would have put some in if I had gone straight to the clinic on Thursday.
I wasn’t thinking entirely straight. Maybe it’s a macho, guy-thing.
I’m still keeping the chin wound and a nasty scrape on the side of my left hand covered with bandages.Tags: Cycling, Garstor, Texas