'O my god, that's like, my worst nightmare,' is what most Dutch people have remarked when I tell them what has just recently happened to me. The ironic thing is, they've lived in Holland for most their lives and it's never happened, yet I have been here for less than 2 years and I could tell you many more stories of a similar kind.
What is it that has happened, you ask? Well the funny thing is, I used to think it was hilarious to hear of someone getting run over by a car, ie. the rolling of the person slowly onto the windshield (not the drive by running over of old punjabi people, that is serious stuff man). I guess what happened to me is similar to the first scenario.
I was having a sunny, happy Friday...I was off work and biking along, enjoying my new job offer, the nice weather, the radio friendly songs that came out of my bubble gum pink Sony walkman bean, when I suddenly saw [in slow motion] a navy blue car door swinging open. Speeding up, I thought, 'i'll just swerve around it on the left' but of course, I ended up hitting the car door FULL FORCE w/ the right side of my body, overextending the car door and throwing myself into the middle of the street.
Dazed, I saw two bronze sneakers approach me from the right while I could hear a lady saying "O god, O god." A crowd gathered around, and as I seemed to be blocking traffic, they asked me if I could get up. Looking down at my bloody shin, I kept my stone face on and said no. Honestly I couldn't have moved my legs even if I wanted to...So, the bronze-sneakered lady (I had yet to see her face) and another short-haired Dutch lady grabbed me by the armpits and dragged me off the road.
At first, I thought it was nothing serious, maybe some skin wound, but the bronze-sneakered lady, whom I had looked in the face now, told me that she knew the lady in the adjacent pet store, and we should go there so we can clean up the wound. I said very little to her, half mad and half hoping that my silence would make her feel worse about what she had done. So, we went in the store and I was given either a baby chair or a chair covered in cat fur to sit on. I took the baby chair and the lady, who I could see now had curly blonde afro-hair and dark skin, took the roughest towel I've ever seen to clean out my wound.
I don't need to tell you it hurt like hell but at this point I was still stone-faced, well okay maybe I was frowning a bit too. But then... I noticed that I couldn't lift my right shoulder!! PANIC!! So I told her and she got freaked out too, saying that I had hit her car door pretty hard, and that she couldn't even open the door anymore!! (Sweet!!) So she decided to take me to the hospital, but first we would see her sister, who used to be a nurse(?!). We drove up to a clothing boutique, where I limped in and got checked out by her sister. I heard her say in Dutch, "It doesn't look good," which got me kinda even more panicked, so I limped back into the car and closed the door. The dark lady walked back to the car w/ a friend of hers, who walked up to my window and gave me the "awwww" look as if I were a homeless animal. The dark lady came back in the car and we drove to the hospital.
Slowly but surely, I began to understand why she was able to open her car door so quickly without checking if there were bikers coming by. She was extremely careless, from the way she drove (tailgating!!) to the things she just didn't notice... When we arrived at the hospital, she went in through an exit, and then despite THREE (3) 'Spoedeindehulp' signs (Emergency), she made the first left turn into the farthest possible parking lot from our destination. Once in the hospital, she placed me in a hard wooden wheelchair, and proceeded to push me to the Emergency section.
A few collisions with a door, a wall and a children's stool later with my injured leg, we made it to the Emergency section where I checked in. First, she rolled me in backwards so that I was sitting right under the little TV where they were showing the World Cup game. 'Great spot,' I thought as I stared at all the other sickies in the waiting room who were staring at me inadvertently while they watched the game. Finally, realising that we might not be in such an interesting location, the lady rolled me to the other end of the room. There, with my leg oozing blood we watched Germany beat Argentina, and the lady even bought me a Twix bar and some tea (Yum!).
While waiting, I found out the lady's name was Gladys and that she had a huge hairy mole on one of her ring fingers. I didn't stare long at it though, and before long, Christian came (YAY!!!!!!!!!) Thank god!!
Anyway to cut a long story short, we got my arm checked out with X-rays, and nothing was broken. The doctor swiped my leg with a cotton pad with what seemed like pure acid and then put a bandage on it, and before long we were out of the hospital again. Gladys was nice to give us a ride home, in her 2-seater truck with storage space in the back for stowaways, and she also gave us 1 month gift certificates to the gym she goes to (which has a sauna that I can use to heal in).
[side note: i really would not fancy seeing her nude in the sauna, omg. even tho she said she was an ex-model, and that she once poured hot liquid on her chest and there was no scarring, i would prefer not to have proof that the aloe vera really worked.]
So now, I have a cheese cloth sling around my neck, which doesn't actually do much for me since it's my shoulder that is immobilized, and two big holes in my shin. I guess it will be a permanent souvenir from Amsterdam, but perhaps it won't be the last! People have told me to wear a helmet, but I still don't get why I of all people keep having these bike accidents?? One thing is for sure though, this time was definitely not my fault!
