Guess who got hit by a truck?

Yep. That would be me.

I had taken my customary bike ride to the beach. It's less than 2 miles from here and there is a bike trail almost the whole way, which makes it pretty safe -- well most of the time. My arthritic knees were bothering me and I thought a good bike ride would loosen them up. I ride an old cruising bike I got from Sam's Club about nine years ago. I have a basket on it with flowers and I toodle down, being passed by the coolass bicyclists with their ridiculous Tour De France outfits (as if) and expensive racing bikes. Me, I wear gym shorts, t-shirts or wifebeaters. It was a cool day so I had a t-shirt on.

There is one part of the trail that crosses a really busy intersection where Stanley Avenue feeds into Hwy 33. The crossing is well-marked and they even added flashing lights that are set off when you cross pylons next to the road. The bike crossing signs even blink.

I was on my way home and all the cars had stopped. I was just passing a stopped white van with handicapped license plates when I realized that some guy in big, shiny, red pickup was barreling toward me. It was an "Oh Shit" moment. A close-your-eyes-and-hope-for-the-best moment. And POW! He had locked up his brakes, but too late. He hit me. I went flying.

I had been in the road but found myself lying on the side, on my back with my head hanging off the curb. My helmet had been knocked off and I'd been thrown clear of the bike. There was kind of a collective "Ohhhhhhhhhh" from whoever was there -- it was a busy time of day.

I had always thought that if anyone hit me like this that I would curse them out. But when the time came, I was in so much pain and shock it seemed best to conserve my energy. Besides the dumbass looked stricken -- as well he should have. People came running and I told them to call 911. Someone suggested I get my head up from the street.

A paramedic showed up, but he explained he was taking a patient to Vista Del Mar from Santa Barbara. In California a paramedic on a non-emergency transport must stop if he/she is first at the scene of an accident. He stabilized me. Stabilizing in an accident means not moving the head. The fire department guys showed up and the dude there noticed that ants were crawling all over me. But of course. I've been thrown 10 feet by a truck and I land in an ant hill. I felt as though I were starring in a macabre foreign art film. He brushed them off and got me on the board. He tried to sit me up, but I got really dizzy and told them I was getting shocky and needed to be put down.

The real paramedics showed up and they got me up and into the ambulance. She hooked me up to a saline drip, which was a good idea because I was going into shock and I needed the fluid. She also gave me oxygen. Riding in ambulances, while cool, is not the most comfortable of experiences, although the paramedic was great. She called Rob, saying she was "calling for his wife" to Stacey the office person at Rob's work. Rob said he thought, "Calling for my wife," that can't be good. I got on the phone and told him I'd been hit by a truck and he needed to meet me at the hospital.

They had me on the board waiting for a doctor for what seemed like forever before Rob got back there. I was so glad to see him. We spent the next few hours mostly waiting. The nurse came in and asked where I hurt and dabbed at the most severe road rash (see above). Rob ended up going over me and cleaning the rest of me off, including my knees and my thumb. They took me back for X-rays, which was unbelievably painful because my body didn't want to move at this point. But as soon as the Dr. saw there was no damage to my spine, he let them take me off the board.

Those boards have to be the most uncomfortable things ever invented and I'd spent almost three hours on this one. They do save lives, but, man they are not built to make you feel better. When I slid off the feeling was almost blissful. Well, as blissful as you can feel after getting hit by a truck.

They ascertained I didn't have any broken bones, although they didn't really x-ray more than my hip -- which bore the brunt of the impact, and head and neck. My swollen thumb hasn't been looked at and my right shoulder has been causing more and more pain.

The doctor had said he wanted to observe me with the head wound -- my helmet had been shattered and I a nice lump on my forehead -- before giving me pain meds. This sucked because I was completely responsive (hey, I watch House and ER, I know Dr. talk).

The Dr. finally ordered pain meds -- not Demerol, which I've found makes me really woozy, but doesn't stop the pain. They gave me Dilaudid and some kind of anti-nausea chaser and that helped some. I was released and sent home to mend with a prescription for Vicodin and orders not to take hot showers.

So here I am, up at 5 a.m. because I still hurt a lot, Vicodin or no Vicodin. Overall I was extremely lucky. At my age, something like this can be pretty devastating. Most people -- especially women -- who fall seem to break bones. But I didn't break anything and am actually getting around pretty well. Considering that I got hit by a truck.

The nurse at the ER asked me where I rode my bike and I told her, "I ride on the Ventura Trail bike path because I'm afraid to ride on the streets. I'm afraid some asshole will hit me."