Must have looked pretty Jackass to any reasonable bystander. The view from behind had to be downright surreal. Dust and brake lights followed by more dust and then, well, nothing.
It was that sudden flash of Nothing where my vehicle and I had been that distracted Chris into his evasive, yet ill-advised brake-and-turn maneuver.
On most days, his textbook ATV roll would have been the story of the trip. Having witnessed Chris come a few degrees of tilt away from spillage not 40 minutes prior, I even had some foreshadowing material.
I really can’t say what was different this time. I’m the first to admit I’m prone to subtle bouts of recklessness, but nobody could possibly mistake me for an adrenaline junkie. A maddeningly average athlete my whole life, I’m pretty familiar with my physical limits. So while I can say I – for example – dove off a couple 40 foot towers into the quarries below, I was among the last of my friends to try.
That was back in college though. Youth, vigor and ignorance mixed well with the slow summer pace of Harrisonburg in the mid 90s. If I ever really enjoyed an extended period of time with no anxiety, that would have been the time.
As I write this down, counting 6 paramedics arriving to take one of the patients in front of me off to the emergency room. Chairs have been re-straightened, so I’m guessing they wheeled the gurney out the back.
Also, Ellen is two-stepping on the waiting room flat screen. This dancing lesbian is really not helping my dizziness.
God forbid I crack a collarbone or snap my tibia driving off that cliffish hill. While that would have certainly ended my weekend as it was just beginning, the clarity of a simple fracture is somehow more desirable than the possibility of just maybe having a concussion.
I was first diagnosed with ADD in 1980 (when I tell people this, I can see them do the math in their head. Kind of like when you see a young couple with a teenage kid. Was ADD even invented yet?). I was 5. Since then, I’ve learned quite a bit about my little Disorder – and quite a bit more about myself. The thing is, even after all these years, I’m never 100% sure exactly where the Disorder ends and the me begins. So talking the doctor through my symptoms – trying to explain something sort of invisible – was all too familiar.
Thankfully, after a few physical tests, this doctor is pretty certain I am experiencing some mild post-concussion symptoms. Something to be monitored for sure, but no gurneys and no pills. I may continue to experience some light-headedness and confusion, but that should subside within a day or so.
Content with some reassuring news, I couldn’t help but think: but Doc, I couldn’t play the violin before the accident!
(The renowned Dr. Vinnie Boombatz is my physician)
(Ok his name was really Epstein)