We took photos at the wrecker today. The gray car’s the one that crossed the median and caused my husband to smash the car up. Thank God for insurance and air bags and seatbelts and God.
My husband was injured in one of those wrecks you hear about on television. You know, where there’s a crash in the southbound lane and a car skids across a gigantic grassy median to the northbound lane, where the innocent driver of a yellow Subaru is knocked into space.
Thank God, he’s all right. The airbag and seatbelt did what they were designed to do: severely bruise his ribs and collarbone while also saving his life. He’s home resting. With a fractured tibia and a bunch of sore spots, and the inability to drive or really do anything on his own.
Um, do you remember last December when I had to drive to Cullman to fetch him from the ER there? Broken collarbone, due to a bicycle wreck. Then a few weeks later he had that metal plate put in his collarbone to keep it together.
Today, it was closer than Cullman. I was on Hwy 17, getting my eyes dilated by the optometrist, when it happened. As I was walking out the door, I got the phone call.
The EMT was quick to tell me that Ben was conscious. Then he told me to drive safely.
I won’t even get into the story about the incompetent boobs at Shelby Baptist. Holy crap, I was so mad I could have spit piss at them. I had to actually excuse myself from the hospital for an hour or so to calm down (and let the dog out).
So no more beloved yellow Subaru. It’s all gone. And we have to hunt down the police report because no one knows if it was Hoover, Pelham, or State Police that worked the wreck.
In sickness and in health, right????
Okay, I’m feeling a little invincible since I survived last night’s sleepover. It involved my son, four other seven year old boys, my rowdy daughters, my crazy dog, my cranky husband, a power outage, a thunderstorm, and vomit.
They ate pizza. They made the most disgusting ice cream concoctions I’ve ever seen (rainbow sherbet, chocolate syrup, and sour gummi worms–my four year old daughter’s creation). They played the Wii, and the PS2. They were ninjas. And they were LOUD.