It’s official. Gastrointestinal problems are the root of all our family’s problems.
Yesterday at work, it became clear that my own tummy was decidedly unsettled. I made the crucial decision around 2:00 to head for home as quickly as possible because I have a very strict set of rules about what should and should not go on in work restrooms. I got in the car and onto I-20 just PRAYING to get home as quickly as possible to suffer my indignities in the privacy and comfort of my own home (and potty.)
And then it happened.
Wait… that SUV in the middle lane… he’s coming into my lane. MY LANE! He doesn’t have room- that’s not going to work!!!!
BRAKES! BRAKES! I have brakes- must use them! Quickly!
SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! Why is my car SIDEWAYS???!!!!! WHY CAN’T I GET IT UN-SIDEWAYS????!!!!!! WAIT- now I’m the OTHER SIDEWAYS!
PLEASE GOD, LET THAT SEMI-TRUCK SLOW DOWN!!!!
(*insert large crunch/crash noise here*)
WHY WON’T MY STEERING WORK??!!!
SIDE-OF-ROAD, SIDE-OF-ROAD, PLEASE SWEET JESUS, LET ME JUST GET ONTO THE SHOULDER!!!!
Yes, folks, I braked to avoid the SUV who came into my lane, went into a sideways skid, tagged the front of a semi truck, and wound up on the side of the road shaking like a cold mini-daschund. (Note: Is it bad that I immediately called Husband and left the 911 notification to the other driver? I don’t think so. A woman has her priorities.) At this point, I forgot about my tummy troubles- your body also has a way of prioritizing. I was fine until I got home and my troubles resurfaced with a vengeance.
I’m fine. Not a scratch on me, just a little sore from tensing up every @#$#@%$@ muscle in my body in anticipation of certain doom at 70 mph. The car? Well…. we’ll see. But I can’t imagine the way my wheel was twisted and all that fluid gushing out from under the front end were GOOD signs.
The man in the SUV did stop and apologize profusely; apparently he just “didn’t see me”. And to his defense, my little Nissan Altima isn’t exactly Hummer conspicuous. We’ll see what he says when my insurance adjustor starts insisting that HIS insurance cover the expense of this little snafu.
The semi-truck? Just a mashed up bumper. I will say this:
That truck driver is the reason I’m alive today.
His quick reaction and response (by braking and moving to the right lane) are what kept me from going UNDER the trailer of the truck. So my special thanks and the love of my entire family to Mr. Spanky Gulledge (yes, that is his legal first name and if you make fun of him, I’ll personally kick your ass because he may indeed be my guardian angel.)
So now the fun begins- hassling with insurance companies, police reports, and getting me into another vehicle. But as I told my big sister last night, I’m surprisingly at peace about it all.
(Inner Monologue again)
La la la…. Still alive, so I don’t care!
As I said, priorities, people. My sweet Husband came and smooched me and all was well.