It Could Have Been Worse...

Yesterday, we woke up to a cold morning and a threat of rain in the skies. One of our sons works for Wendy's several days a week, and even though he is off Fridays, he was asked to come in for a few hours to fill in for another employee. Many days he walks to work, but I was concerned about the weather and offered to drive him.

On the way back home after dropping him off, I entered the main street to our neighborhood and proceeded along until I came to one of the many speed bumps in the area. This one is located just a short distance before the first cross street along the road on which I was traveling. I slowed down to about 10 miles an hour going over the bump, then started picking up speed as I entered the intersection. I noticed to my left, speeding down the adjoining cross street, came a light-colored car. To my horror I realized that the car was not going to stop at the stop sign. The only thing I could do was to step on the gas and try to get out of the intersection and the other cars way.

Being in a van, my father's bright blue one, it ended up that I needed more time than I had and the other car, a four-door model, ran through the stop sign, crossed the two lanes, and plowed into the back section of the van, right behind the driver's side rear tire. The impact spun the van around and I found myself sitting in the same lane I had been driving in, but now facing the opposite direction than I had been going. The woman driving the other car came to a stop on the opposite side of the intersection.

Needless to say, I was shook up and some what dizzy from the spinning ride. Fortunatly, the woman admitted that she was in a hurry and had run the stop sign, and that it was all her fault. I did find it odd, however, that she was moving the bumper of her car out of the street as another woman from a corner house swept the street of the glass and parts all BEFORE the police arrived. The woman from the corner house said that she had seen several accidents on that corner before.

I was blessed that I escaped with only a neck and back ache and some bruises along my left arm and leg. I limped my Dad's car back to our house (both of my parents now live with us), and my husband came home from work and took me to the local hospital to be checked out. That, in itself, is another story. What is it with hospitals and emergency rooms? They sure aren't very quick about anything!