The accident.

Truth be told, Robert and I got into a pretty heated argument the night before the accident. The subject of the argument was how he didn't call me before he left work to tell me he was off (as his times change frequently.) He will tell you it's because I'm a nag, however I beg to differ. My reason is because he is on his motorcycle, and driving in rush hour traffic and I would like to know where he is traveling should I not hear from him or should something happen. He seemed to have thought that was leaning towards ridiculous.

Now I don't know if it was some sort of dramatic slap in the face, a wake up call to slow down a bit, a wished for "I told you so" on my part, or what - but what happened the next morning really hit home with an extra amount of emotion, due to the previous night's "discussion."

Normally in the morning, I hear Robert getting ready for work. He didn't get the gene that enables one to be quiet when others are sleeping. So you can imagine my surprise when the first thing I heard in the morning was a phone call at 5:45 a.m.
This phone call was Robert's strained voice saying: " I was just in a motorcycle accident, and I'm hurt pretty bad. I'm laying on the 710 at the 5." The only words I could get to come out of my mouth was: "WELL CALL 911!" before he hung up the phone.

Immediately I jumped out of bed and of course called my mom to wake her up to prepare her to get the kids. After that I tried calling him back 5 times in a row. The feeling that I had during the time that he first called me and when my phone rang with the caller ID "Hubby" is so hard to explain. For those of you that don't know, his dear friend Brian had just passed away, about 4 weeks prior, after complications during a leg surgery resulting from a very slow fall on his motorcycle. His death had been very difficult to get through. My mind wandered. My heart raced. I think the fact that I was able to brush my teeth, change out of my pajama's and drive the sleeping children to my mom's house was accomplished only out of habit.

I must have walked in circles around the house 10 times, trying to figure out what I was supposed to do next. Do I just drive the way he said he was going and hope to figure something out? Do I start calling the Highway Patrol in East Los Angeles in hopes someone could tell me something? I had to do something, just sitting there was not an option. I had never even been to this new office that he goes to everyday since his position changed. Just as I was about to call someone, still to this day I don't know who it would have been... I get the call. The caller ID that had my beautiful husband's face and title: "hubby." On the other end of the phone however, was not my beautiful husband. It was the Los Angeles County Fire Department. The nice man told me he was in the ambulance with Robert and told me which medical center he was taking him to. I think I asked him to repeat himself 4 times, as I wasn't familiar with the area. He told me he was stable and I could hear Robert in the background asking him to tell me to call his boss. I was told to take my time as he is not showing any severe signs of shock or broken bones and for me to be safe while driving. Oh ya right.

I made the call, googled the medical center ( as best as I could remember the name ) and finally narrowed down the one he must have been talking about. One quick mapquest later and off I went to an area only 25 minutes away from me, but one in which I had never been to before. When I arrived at the medical center, after taking 20 minutes to find parking, I find myself walking through a metal detector and seeing over 100 people in the ER waiting area. WHOA. This is not Los Alamitos Medical Center where 10 people in the waiting area is over-crowding. The nice check in admin walked me, what seemed like a mile, back to his gurney in the ER. I don't think I breathed for the entire walk, which for some reason I remember went right, left, right, left.

There he was. Thank god there he was. My wonderful, scruffy, big, strong husband laying there in a hospital gown and a neck brace. I gave him instant kisses all over his face, held his hand, waited while he told me that nothing was broken at all, and his scans had been clear. We exchanged millions of 'I Love You's' - then I flicked his forehead and called him an idiot.

The conversation led to talking about Brian and our divine luck. It also including the confirmed fact that it would be best to sell the bike after it's fixed. This was a mutual decision. I was thrilled and was able to relax a bit. I made all of the phone calls he asked me to, and updated the people that already knew what had happened. A second Doctor came in and didn't believe that after what he went through, there was nothing broken, so they ordered another set of scans and Xrays to reconfirm.

Once he proved he could walk to the end of the of the corridor, they gave him a prescription for Vicodin and told him to go buy some motrin too - and off we went. We were in and out in about 6 hours!

At this point, I was still holding up. I made it home ok. I managed to eat some lunch even. I got him as comfortable as he could be then I just cried. I cried for what happened, and what could have happened. I cried for the pain he must be in, and the pain he'll endure in healing. I cried for the luck that we had in the fact that we were at home and not checked into a hospital. Then we fell asleep. Some much needed sleep.

That afternoon and next day was filled with love and attention and help and then more love from everyone. I'm at a loss for words ( hard to believe I know ) when it comes to trying to convey the significance of what all of that love did for us.

Since that day, Robert has progressively getting better and better. Unfortunately I seem to be getting worse. He is talking about wanting to keep the bike and not ride it to work anymore, and I'm getting anxiety and having nightmares. I suppose we will see how the whole thing plays out, I am quite anxious though, to get past the newness of the accident and what it has meant for us. It has meant so much more than some bruising and discomfort...