Love For Amy


> What Happened

The accident, as I know it, has been told to me from my boyfriend and doctors based on their findings. I can only re-tell what I’ve heard about the actual event as I remember nothing about that night and very little from my first few days in the hospital, which were in the ICU. Also, for legal reasons, I will not be putting he details of the case here either. My boyfriend and I were riding our bicycles home on a Saturday night about a seven minute ride to my house, pretty much a straight shot down one street. He watched as a pick-up truck plowed into me from behind, my new, glittery, awesome bike being sucked under the truck as I flew on to the hood. What happened next was unclear, but somehow my body was thrown approximately 60 feet in the air to my final crash landing on my right ear. My ear was partially detached has left a huge scar on an approximately 3″x4″ piece of my scalp that will never grow hair again. My ear is still in tact, I just can’t hear that well. The truck sped off, that’s right, hit and run around the corner. The 17-year old girl driver was stopped by police for speeding, and was found to be drunk driving. The caved in hood of her truck, thanks to the impact of it hitting my body at an estimated 40mph and 9-11 call from my boyfriend right around the corner with a description of the truck were enough to link the two. This is where I am holding back on the details, they are enraging and a nightmare to deal with on top on the physical pain I’m going through.

I lay there in my boyfriend’s arms muttering some unintelligible sounds and fighting to get up, as people in shock often do, thinking they’re fine and ready to get going on their way as nothing is if wrong! The ambulance took me to the emergency room where I spent almost 16 hours being inspected and watched over, apparently causing quite a fright on numerous occasions as it was questionable whether or not I would survive and with what injuries. From the stories of friends coming to see me those first few days (granted I didn’t look at a mirror until about day 6 or 7 of being in the hospital) I couldn’t have looked less like myself. The only thing identifying me to loved ones being my unmistakable laugh and unwavering sense of humor. I give the morphine props for that.

By the time I was able to look at myself in the mirror, I was shocked to see the swollen, bruised face crowned with bloody, dirt filled hair. I was in shock to see myself, at what was “looking so much better!” As one friend told me, she almost collapsed on the ground after seeing me as her heart completely broke for me and what I was going through. The hospital was so uncomfortable and miserable towards the end. I was listless after being in bed for almost nine days, but unable to walk more than to and from the bathroom. I survived on the love of visitors, bringing me milkshakes and laughs, and the daily kiss from my boyfriend.

I listed all my injuries separately as I wanted this to be more of a place where I talk about what going through this was like for me and my friends. This is also where I must remind myself not to get into the details of the story, even though it’s tempting to do as a way to release all the anger and frustration I feel about this. But, lightly put, it doesn’t look to be an easy case where just punishment will be served or that I will get help paying the $100,000-plus bills I’ll be racking up from the hospital. Hopefully I can get some state funding, but it won’t cover everything. And, this doesn’t even address problems I’ll face in the future and subsequent therapy for mind and body when I’m able. I’m trying to look on the positive side, and having the fund raiser is one way I’m ensuring that.








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