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to be born again
It was a misty night, May 2, 1987. I had just finished my radio show and I was riding my bicycle home. It was a little bit after 10 o’clock on a spring night in Des Moines.
I never saw the car. After stopping at the stop sign on a quiet residential street I pedaled forward and that was it. I was hit by a Suburu. It ran the stop sign. The young man behind the wheel thought that he had killed me. It looked that bad.
My head smacked into his left fender. Made quite a dent. In his fender. And in my head.
My bicycle was crushed. I kept trying to get back astride what was left of it. Ride on, like everything was fine. It wasn’t.
I had been scalped. The top of my head was flipped forward in true horror show fashion. There was a wedding reception going on at the house on the corner. A young man in a garish pink tuxedo came out and sat on my chest to prevent me from trying to mount what was left of my bike.
I recognized him. He had been on my Little League team, the Senators - I hadn’t seen him since. I said, I know you! He said, WHO THE (expletive deleted) are YOU?!
I guess I didn’t look the same? The ambulance arrived and they took me to the hospital. I never lost consciousness. No skull fracture. The doctors said that if I had been wearing a helmet that the impact would have probably broken my neck. As it was, the soft tissue of my scalp took the impact and the scalping and my skull and brain (haha) remained intact.
At the hospital I swam in a mental loop. I was in a state of shock. Every few minutes I would ask someone what time is it?? When I spotted a doctor or a nurse I would inform them that I was certainly suffering from a subdural hematoma? Amazing, how the mind functions under duress?
Strange, what the mind did on that day when it was nearly lost - 21 years ago today. I lived. I was born again that day. Really.
I’m finally old enough to have a beer. I think that I shall.
Postscript: The plastic surgeon who did the repair on my scalp laceration explained to me during my aftercare that he was thrilled to have the opportunity to work on such a significant injury. He said he had seen a few of them but he had never been asked to repair one. I asked him why not? He said: “none of the people I have seen with such serious damage were still living.”
21 years later I’m still not good to go…..
Vick Mickunas
Permalink | Comments (7) | Post your comment | Categories: midnight confessions
Comments
By victor mickunas
May 9, 2008 2:41 PM | Link to this
Thanks for the good wishes.By Mick Polich
May 5, 2008 9:54 AM | Link to this
Vick, I remember when this happened to you - what an amazing tale. I’m glad you pulled through, just for the sheer fact of survival.My next beer, I’m toasting YOU, man!!By prose
May 4, 2008 3:32 PM | Link to this
Happy Birthday..I recall some other bicycle spills you took. My wife and me picking sand and gravel out of your bloody face and scalp. The blame was usually placed on potholed streets and such. Enjoy the beer..just don’t go biking afterward. Wish I could toast one with you. Too bad it took a bleeding ulcer to change my life. On May 6 it will be 9 months…with alot of help maybe it will be my birthday as well. Be well and always live in the moment ol’ buddy.By Mark from St Paul
May 4, 2008 3:02 PM | Link to this
Given all the time and efforts that have gone into trying to kill you over the years, I do recall that as being your closest call.By victor mickunas
May 4, 2008 10:06 AM | Link to this
Dear Ghost…with 21 years of extra living since that event I have changed many things about the way I live. One thing I did was I stopped keeping score. I’m counting the days but not the people with whom I make a connection. Life is too short to waste any moments making calculations.By Riverdale Ghost
May 4, 2008 12:14 AM | Link to this
We all have to learn we are mortal somehow. Who’s life have you changed since?By Page Turner
May 3, 2008 2:21 PM | Link to this
Happy birthday, Vick!Glad you lived to tell about it. Cheers!