Continued from Part 1 – A Surprising Interaction
Scary title for me to type, and even scarier notion for me to comprehend, but one never knows when or how a Suboxone detox and rehab might be in their immediate future. Being diligent to my disease of addiction should always be first and foremost.
Once I’ve picked myself up off the pavement, dragged my bike to the sidewalk, and inspected my apparent wounds, I examined my bike to make sure it was okay too. With the top layer of skin ripped from my shin, I hopped on my bike again, and rode it slowly back to Pat Moore Foundation. I set my poor bike into the back of the truck, locked it down so that it wouldn’t slide around too much and then hopped in and headed off to work. My right leg began to throb as I worked the gas and break.
As I drove I thought to myself, why didn’t I go into the office? Surely someone would have helped me with my cut and made sure I wasn’t too badly damaged. I knew exactly why without having to think about it too much. I have a great deal of pride in my ability to take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for so many years; most adult children of alcoholics learn to do this at a young age. It’s something I work on but I can’t say I am better all the time at it. Yes, I am able to be vulnerable and comfortable, but sometimes I resort back to old familiar behavior.
Honestly, this is a red flag for me. This could be the beginning of a relapse for me. So, I remain diligent.
The traffic was normal – heavy, slow, annoying. I felt my anger rising at the people in the other cars and had to breathe a bit slower. It certainly wasn’t their fault the traffic was heavy. They just wanted to get home like I did. And it certainly wasn’t their fault I wiped out on my bike. When the traffic started up again, I reached for the stick shift and the first bolt of pain ripped up my wrist, through my elbow and shoulder.
The adrenaline that coursed through my body from the accident was slowly ebbing, the pain beginning to take over. It was my first thought that maybe something worse than the scrap on my leg had occurred. I reached for the stick shift with my left hand, moving forward, popping the clutch a few times.
I’d see how I felt when I got home.
Stay tuned for part 3
Continue on to From Accident to the ER