"yes." .. "Okay." .. "What?!" .. "WHAT?!" .. "IS SHE OKAY?!?" .. "THANK YOU! BYE!"
So, Tam's baby sister got into an accident on the freeway. On her motorcycle. But that sentence doesn't do the absurdity of it justice. Let me explain. She's riding along on the freeway, right? Okay, first of all, no one actually hits her (yet). She sees brake lights and hits the brakes. Only she ends up locking up her brake and lays the bike down. So, when her slide comes to a stop, and after a car swerves to miss her, she figures it's a good time to get the hell up and get off the freeway. I wanna pause right here to kinda assess the damage. She was wearing jeans, but one of her legs still got chewed up pretty good. She was also wearing a helmet which had GREAT battle scars on it from the road. But at least her head was in pretty good shape. For her, anyways. What she wasn't wearing was her jacket. She was wearing a tank-top. As you can imagine, all the skin on her shoulder and arm and all points in between pretty much got left on the road somewhere. Oh, Bonehead had her jacket, but it was in her backpack. And for just a few more seconds, that sounds like a really, really dumb place for it. In those few seconds she gets up and takes about two steps in her mad dash to her bike that came to rest about 30 feet in front of her.
That's when she was hit by a truck. In the back. The first report came in at 50mph. And that's just not true. Later, that estimate came down to 30mph and then 15mph. Frankly, the guy would had to have come to a complete stop mere feet after hitting her for her not to just be obliterated. I saw Robocop. I know what happens. My guess is somewhere between 5 and 10mph. 'Cause let's face it, something weighing a few thousand pounds doesn't need to be moving very fast to do damage. There's even a law of physics that supports this. I think if I ran into her at 5mph I could do some pretty good damage. Anyways, turns out, the jacket was probably more productive in her backpack than it would have been on her back. I dunno if it saved her life or anything. I think her helmet did that part. But it might have saved her ability to walk. It can't possibly have absorbed that much energy, but maybe just enough. And for those of your who are curious, I already asked. No, she didn't shit herself.
Final tally: Dislocated femur, broken clavicle, compressed lumbar (and some bone fragments), equilibrium problems, and some grade A road rash up and down her body.
She was pretty much bedridden for about three weeks. It was maybe another three weeks before she could walk unassisted. She's lucky to be alive, but Genius doesn't think being on a bike had anything to do with it. "I wasn't in a motorcycle accident! I got hit on my feet!" "Yeah, I know what you mean. Why, just the other day, I slammed on my brakes in a car I have full control over and I fell right out! I wish that would stop happening to me!" She doesn't think I'm funny.
I meant to cover a bunch of other things, but again I'm running long (and out of steam). But this pretty funny exchange happened at the clinic Tam's sister was cooped up in. Let me set it up. She was due to move out of her apartment in a couple of weeks. But now, Tam, a handful of our friends, and I end up spending a Sunday packing up all her shit and moving it to my house. This pretty much echoes the events of last year when Tam and I went to her dorm to move her out only to find she hadn't done anything except pack her suitcase for Hawaii. This year, I suppose I could cut her a little slack. Still annoying, though. So, it's like.. Monday or Tuesday or something. And we're at the health clinic with Tam's sister and her mom. Tam's mom gives Tam some money and says, "I was gonna give this to you guys to go eat somewhere nice on your anniversary, but since you didn't go out, just take this and do whatever." Tam's sister asks, "Why didn't you guys go out for your anniversary?"
"CAUSE WE WERE TOO TIRED FROM MOVING ALL YOUR SHIT, STUPID!"
And then the crying started. Hahaha. Yeah, so we spent our first anniversary packing and moving a cripples shit. That's the cardboard anniversary, right?
Also, when I started writing this, it was timed perfect. Now it's a few days late, but Happy Birthday, Kel! See? I told you you were getting older. Enjoy.