Cordelia is my car, so named in honor of Mrs. Cordelia Knott, of Knott's Berry Farm. One day after I had recently purchased my car, a group of us from work went to Knott's Soak City. I ran out of gas right in front of Knott's Berry Farm, and a lovely employee helped me out and got me a gallon of gas. Because every vehicle should have a name, it was then decided that my new 2005 Chevy Classic would be called Cordelia, or Cordy for short.
Last Friday, I killed her.
To be totally fair, it was an accident. I didn't mean to kill her. It just happened. Let's go back...
Friday July 11, 2008 1:06pm
I punched out for lunch and decided to go home to eat. I picked up some McDonald's (I couldn't resist - it's in the same shopping center as Trader Joe's!) and headed home via side streets. I didn't want to wait for stoplights. About a block from my house I had to cross over a major street. I looked to the left, waited, looked to the right, saw my window of opportunity and went for it. And that's when it hit me.
The Ford F150.
It appeared as if from nowhere. By the time I saw it, it was way too late. Afterwards I could see that a parked truck had blocked my view of the Black Beast. I was hit directly on my driver's side door. There was a crunch, a shatter and a quarter turn, and then it was over.
Then there was pain. In my left side and my lower back. Not terrible pain (yet) but I was squashed between the door and the center console, which I couldn't move. Ordinarily, the console can be flipped up to the space between the seats. However at this point there was no "space between the seats." That space was now occupied by my seat.
As I'm noticing that the gear shift and the dashboard have also moved to the right, I notice that the windshield has hundreds of webbed cracks, and I no longer have windows on the left side. The glass from said windows has been sprinkled liberally throughout the car, some of it falling behind me and down the back of my jeans as I reach to take my seatbelt off.
By now the other driver has gotten out of his car and he approaches me. He asks me if I'm okay, and didn't I see him? (What a stupid question, by the way. Do you think that I would have continued forward if I had seen him?) I tell him of course I didn't see him and that I am squashed but pretty much all right. He got on the phone to the police while I thanked Whomever is Up There that The Huz and I had done all the paperwork to put me on his medical insurance a few months before.
The accident happened right next to a construction area where all the guys were on lunch and many of them saw it. One very nice construction guy came up to the car, asked me if I was okay and handed me a water bottle. As I turned my head to speak to him, I could see blood on the door. He sees me notice it and says that I have a lot of cuts on my upper left arm from the flying glass. He went and got me some gauze and another bottle of water.
I spend the next ten minutes trying to get a hold of The Huz, who unbeknownst to me has taken a long lunch with his boss and colleagues. I also call Trader Joe's and let them know I'm probably not coming back to finish my shift today.
The Fire Department arrives and they are very concerned about how to get me out of the vehicle safely. Because they can't move the center console, they can't get me out through the passenger side. They immediately disconnect the car's electricity and put a special cover on the steering wheel in case the airbag decided to deploy. When they ask, I tell them I have no neck pain, but they put a collar on me to be safe and proceed to cut the driver's side door off! Much bending and cutting of metal later, they extricate me from the car and strap me onto a backboard (quite uncomfortable, just so you know).
I am ambulanced to the hospital, I get X-rays, I get a CT Scan, and I am fine. Well not fine, but there are no broken bones, no internal injuries, nothing life-threatening is wrong with me. The Huz got my message and met me after my X-rays. It's like Whoever is Up There knew I still had a lot of stuff to do. In a matter of six hours at the hospital I am free to go about my business, armed only with some crutches and a prescription for ibuprofen. Like I said, nothing broken, but my right leg objected to any weight being put on it. My parents drove up from San Diego right after they heard and got there just in time for me to be released.
I have spent the time since then mostly resting and trying out the leg. It tolerates walking now, but only slightly, and never for too long. The Doc said to use my body every day, get it moving so it remembers how. I have a check-up with my doctor tomorrow to see how I'm doing, and when I should go back to work.
I feel lucky to be alive, and ready for more living. I leave you with photos of my beloved Cordy. So long, my dear. I didn't have you for a very long time, not even three years, but our time together was awesome.
Talk about crunched!
That's the front door on the seat there. You know, the one they CUT OFF!
Cordy is a BIOHAZARD!
Don't forget to grab the Lobster!