Crash, Boom, Bang
It’s been a maddening week for me, this third week of April. On top of that, a very, VERY unlucky week. I cannot emphasize on that enough. As if unbeknown to me, a black cat had walked past me or the other way around some time or another…sigh…it is testing really, and I find myself grappling with all that has happened, trying my level best to catch my breath and take it all in my stride.
Two days back, I was involved in an automobile accident on my way back from work. I’ll be quick to add that I’m not injured in any way, so you can all breathe easy. At most, probably my heart went into palpitation a couple of times during the incident, but other than that, I’m quite fine. My poor little car wasn’t quite so fortunate however. There’s a huge dent on the left passenger seat that would require a lot of fixing (equals a lot of headache for me and my insurance men).
It wasn’t as simple as I made it sound though – fix the dent and we’re good to go. Suffice to say, the day was a nightmare. The motorcyclist who knocked into me…well, he didn’t fare that well either. I guess good outcomes never happen to those who speed on two wheeled vehicles in a thunder storm…alas.
He was a young Malay boy…probably twenty plus, at most, twenty eight. That was all I could tell from his bloodied and swollen face. Goddamn, I wish I could describe everything that had happened without feeling nauseated the way I am right now. All I could remember was the motorcycle doing a nose dive and crashing after the impact. And then, it was a blur of actions. I almost broke my neck turning here and there, trying to figure out where the motorcyclist had landed. At that kind of explosive collision, I suppose he’d be landing quite a distance away. All that was on my mind then was – is he dead? And if he was, where’s the body?
There wasn’t even time to think or feel scared, or to panic at what I would find. I tore open the door and ran out into the pouring rain, and was almost relieved to see that the motorcyclist was just at the back of the car. He didn’t fly anywhere at all. It was as if he just landed right there…but he wasn’t a sight for sore eyes, I tell you. He was bleeding all over the face, and he couldn’t stand up straight. I didn’t think at all…I couldn’t…just rushed forth and helped him off the road onto the side so cars passing by wouldn’t run over him. I remember him crying, “Mak aku, mak aku…” and it was weird, I felt goose bumps all over me…maybe it was the fragile way he said it. My full concentration was on the blood dripping onto the puddles of water on the hard asphalt road. Come to think of it, now I should pat myself on the back because it didn’t make me swoon and faint dead and away. (I have a tendency to pass out at the sight of blood heh)
Ahhh…damn it. There was a bit of commotion but I couldn’t hear or see anything except for the Malay man who had stopped to assist us. Then, I picked up my shoes and ran to the nursery nearby, hair wet and hands flailing.
“Help! Help!” I shouted till my throat felt raw, waving like a mad woman, wanting to run but feeling almost paralyzed. The people in the shop were busy laughing and talking. They looked at me as though nothing at all registered in their heads. Maybe the rain had drowned out everything I was saying. I must have been quite a picture. I persisted and continued waving madly.
“Accident! Accident!” I screamed till my voice broke.
And finally, by God, they understood. There was a flurry of activity as they rushed towards us and we decided what to do. In the end, I sent the boy to a clinic nearby. As the doctor checked him, I fiddled with the phone, fingers shivering and wondered who to call, what to do. It was as if it was just slowly sinking in…what a mess, mess, mess. My fingers were so cold and bloodless they felt numb and my lower lip couldn’t stop shivering. I dialed a number, and despite myself, managed to sound calm and collected.
The doctor came out and shook her head…how melodramatic I thought. And how reassuring…NOT. I was almost mad at her.
“How’s he?” I asked twice before she answered me.
She looked at me with those dreary eyes and said:
“I think he’s got a concussion. Doesn’t look good. Doesn’t remember his name. He’s confused. Was he conscious all the while?”
To which I said “Yes. I was with him all the while.”
She gave me a nasty look, as if I would lie.
“He had to be unconscious at some point of time to be so confused. You better send him to
University Hospital . And quick. He might not make it.”
And she charged me twenty five ringgit for fiddling over nothing! She did not even really touch him or wipe away the blood. Cursing her under my breath I tried to draw a mental map on how to get to
University Hospital from Subang 2, kicking myself for being such a direction dummy. The thought that this boy could probably die…right there, next to me in my car drove me quite bonkers.
And once again I picked up my phone. It was like a scene from a movie. This Malay guy suddenly regained all energy and started to talk…half the time I wasn’t sure what he was saying. And after that, he told me that his phone did not have any credit. And started using my phone to make call after call. So much for having concussion when he could remember the numbers from the top of his head. I began to question whether the doctor was a quack.
In my brain deadness we got a little lost on the NKVE. More phone calls were made, this time by me and I thought I was going quite crazy. The phone seemed to ring non-stop after that. His manager called, and then his mother, and then god-knows-who else. In addition to that, Ryan, who was assisting me on how to get to the hospital. When we finally made it there, I was so numb there was no more feeling in any of my limbs. Which probably was a blessing in disguise. I picked up the phone again, wiped away the blood (from the boy’s face when he borrowed the phone earlier), and feeling totally dejected, I called the man I felt most secure with…Daddy.
Hearing Daddy’s voice was so reassuring. It stopped me short from breaking down. Just as I was speaking, Ryan arrived. Another reassurance. I breathed a sigh of relief and said a prayer for having people around me when I needed them most. I really could borrow some energy at that moment, and was more than happy to lean on him as to what to do from that point onwards.
We went on to the police station in PJ, where we found out it wasn’t enough to just make a report there. We would have to go to Sungai Buloh Police station (G A S P!!) before midnight to secure another report, isn’t that so ridiculous? Already, the situation is bad enough and we have to fly from one end in another just to make yet another one. Sigh. Like couldn’t all these be done online? It IS the 21st century after all!!
To make matters worse, we forgot to take down the boy’s IC number, particulars and even his plate number. So, we made a few phone calls and guess what…? The little bugger wouldn’t give us his plate number because he was scared that we would frame him…it really made me feel like pulling out a clump of hair…whoever’s…in the end, the police man told us we could leave that part out first and see how later…so Malaysian style.
By that time, I was so exhausted both eyeballs felt like popping out. I had migraine and my skin was still tingling from the chill and dampness of the rain. And I felt so filthy and sticky and…bloodied that my skin was crawling. We stopped by at Mc Dees to catch a bite and I scrubbed my hands, hoping it would make me feel better. All I wanted to do was to lie down and close my eyes and sleep. Ryan took over, bless the dear guy, and drove.
During the whole journey I was thinking about silly things like how I haven’t got my taxes done. And how money would keep flowing out. And how I just want to drop dead and not wake up again. Ryan and I got to talking about the way I handled the situation. Maybe inside I was in turmoil, but outwardly, I was quite in control. Ahh, I guess that’s at least something to be proud of. I always thought I’d be the kind to drop dead at the sight of blood and have jelly for feet. Ryan thinks that I’m just spoilt in a sense that I’ve had people take care of me all my life. And when I found myself alone and there’s no one there to depend on, I just took it into my own hands and handled it the best I could. Food for thought, eh? I learnt something about myself today after all.
We passed the accident scene. The motorbike was still there. Ryan whipped out his camera and started playing detective. The motorbike looked surprisingly undamaged considering the huge dent created on my car door. Only the mirrors and mudguard was missing.
There was a certain eeriness in the air as I relived what happened earlier in the day. The road was so quiet then, and so dark. Arggh, I could almost hear the sound of the collision ringing in my ears once again. …what a place to be in at this ungodly hour! We reached Sg Buloh police station a little past eleven. The place itself was so secluded that I doubt I could have found it on my own.
What I clearly remember from the meeting with the sergeant was this…he took a look at the dent and exclaimed loudly:
“Langgar lori ka? Motorsikal? Tentu sudah mati la orang itu.”
Sigh. He just had to say that, didn’t he? Oh, how reassuring indeed!
Conclusion of the day: I hate police stations and I hate hospitals. I hope I never have to visit these two places again anytime soon.
Finally, at around midnight, it was all over and we could go home. And I’m roughly RM 300 poorer. :,(
Damn damn damn.
Would like to take the opportunity to thank Ryan for standing by me throughout the ordeal and for helping me send my poor bug to the workshop. You’ve made hell seem more bearable hehehe. And you are definitely without a doubt my favorite Pluto-an from now on. :p
