Daily affirmations of a word mercenary


br>The Survivor, originally uploaded by .Ariel.Today while I was waiting for The Beloved Scabby One to come pick me up on the way to his stitch-removal appointment, I noticed a bike messenger. I’d seen this kid once already earlier in the day and been struck by the fact that, well, he wasn’t wearing a helmet. When I saw him a second time locking up his bike before heading into the building where I work, I just couldn’t help myself.
When he came back from making his delivery, I approached.
“So, are you really a messenger who doesn’t wear a helmet?” I said. He gave me a whithering look and a fuck off “yeah.”
Then I started rambling. “Obviously you know what you’re doing but it’s really dangerous not to wear a helmet and my husband got in this really awful bike accident this weekend and his helmet was the only thing that saved him and all I can picture is his bloody helmet and you know you have to be careful and if you’d seen his face you might change your mind and, and,” (here I started to realize I sounded like a crazy person) “and, well, obviously it’s your choice.”
“I suppose it is,” the messenger said with the perfectly honed combination of sarcasm and dismissiveness. Then he said, “Um, I’m going to go get some samples? From those people standing on that corner?” like he was a senator talking to a special needs three-year-old and biked off as fast as he could.
As I stood there on the sidewalk I had the realization that holy fuck. I just became that woman. The one who hysterically makes you wear your coat even though it’s 50 degrees out because YOU’LL CATCH YOUR DEATH OF COLD and didn’t you know that if you don’t hold onto the hand rail you could FALL DOWN THE STAIRS AND DIE? The worst part was that I was actually thinking of pulling out my Sidekick and shoving a picture of Andreas’ bloody, swollen face under the (unbroken) nose of this 20 year old kid. If he thought I was crazy before, he would have REALLY thought I was nuts at that point.
I just couldn’t help myself, though. I see visions of brains smeared on asphalt everywhere I go. Meanwhile, Andreas is totally fine, other than the fact that he’s been spacey about taking his pain killers regularly so he goes through waves of hurting. But he’s totally fine. His scabs are shedding, his stitches are out, and his swollen lip is much less Angelina Jolie-like. I, meanwhile, read comments like the last one to this post and almost fall out of my chair from the freaking out and feel the need to accost innocent bike messengers on the street.
As the eyewitness reports of Dre’s bike wreck start to come in, I’m going through shock all over again. People could hear the crack of his helmet on the pavement from 30 feet away. He went into convulsions before he regained consciousness. One rider thought he was dead. I’m having aftershocks of mortification and terror and then I creep into the bedroom and watch Andreas sleep for a few minutes and almost start crying at it all … but see the eye surgery I had messes with your tear production for a little while, and so no tears come and so I just pet his scabby head and am thankful. Because what else can I do?
Who wants to take a look at how Andreas is doing? From the neck down, he’s just fine. Sore shoulders and a couple patches of road burn. Nothing serious. I took some pictures as he lay snoozing this morning at the hospital, and I just now got patient relase permission to share them with you all. So! Here is he:


Dre is now home and doodling around the house comparing himself to Quasimodo. I told him he was more like the Phantom of the Opera, and then he asked if I would be the Beauty to his Beast. Aww. Such a charmer, even when he’s bruised and broken! Anyway, here’s a picture of my favorite little patient enjoying the wall of emails, Flickr comments, and Electrolicious messages you all have sent. Thanks, everyone!


The damage? Broken nose, missing tooth, cut that went all the way through his upper lip, and numerous facial lacerations, road rash, etc. He got 30 stitches in his face. I almost fainted (not figuratively) when I first saw him, because I’m a wuss and he was covered in blood.
He’s been conscious the whole time, although he has no memory of the accident. As I’m freaking out about possible skull fractures and potential spinal injuries, he’s saying things like “But I really wanted to ride!” and “Did someone take care of my bike? I’m worried about my bike!”
We’re staying overnight in the hospital … since he lost consciousness after his fall and had a little amnesia in the ambulance, they want to watch him to make sure he’s ok. I’ve been with him all day and am on a quick run home to grab a couple things he requested. Happy thoughts appreciated!
Hey there. I'm Ariel Meadow Stallings, a native Seattleite who's written my way up and down the Left Coast. Electrolicious is where I post daily randomata, but I also write for a living. My first book, Offbeat Bride, was published last year.
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