Posthuman Blues

Crash

I was in a car wreck on the way to work this morning. It was a traffic accident and happened so fast that I honestly don't know how what happened happened. But it was real enough. I suddenly found myself clutching the wheel and unable to breathe, the car inexplicably no longer moving. The hood of my car was creased and folded. Large portions of my dashboard were conspicuously absent. A turn signal blinked meaninglessly. Numb, I stared out the driver's-side door and watched a milling crowd of medics and onlookers.

Everyone was very nice. The medics pried my door open and I more or less slouched out, now breathing rapidly. My car was a disaster. You've seen ugly car accidents before; embarrassingly, I was now the focus of one. Thankfully no one else was hurt.

I was driven to the emergency room in an ambulance, where a medic told me my pupils had dilated widely from sheer adrenalin. From the hospital, I managed to phone work. The next few hours were a blur of muscle relaxer-induced fatigue, psychic exhaustion, X-rays, and more than a little existential confusion. What now? What next?

Diagnosis: multiple contusions and severe muscle strain. Nothing broken. I had been wearing a seatbelt -- and have a red welt across my chest to prove it -- so I was spared having the steering wheel crack through my sternum.

The next few days (weeks?) are going to be rather painful. I have little strength in my upper body and my chest feels like it's been whacked with a bowling ball a few times. I can feel my muscles continuing to stiffen as I type.

Enough of that for now. I'm OK. Time to get a new car. On with the show.