Today.

I mostly feel comfortable sharing this hear because I know my blog is tiny, that very few people who are local read it, and that it's extremely unlikely that anyone involved in todays accident will stumble upon it (especially because there are no names or locations given). Writing has always helped me make sense of things, and I really needed to write about today. 

Here goes...

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I have been stalking on of the local news channels Facebook pages all day, waiting for an update on a story. A man was hit by a car this morning, the story said. Will update later when we know more.

I refreshed the page a hundred times. Every five minutes I would check back in to see if some update had been added. 

I was able to see quickly that it hadn't been, by the time stamp at the top of the page, but I would still scroll down to make sure.

And then I would continue the prayer I had been chanting in my head since just before noon, which couldn't seem to get much past "please God, please God, please God."

Refresh. Check on Maggie who's home sick for an eleventh day. Clean something. Rinse. Repeat. 

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Paul was sick this morning, which is why he could stay home with Maggie, which is why I was able to leave the house this morning to go donate plasma after I dropped Tessie at school. 

I finished donating and nearly drove home, but at the last minute I took an exit and headed towards Dunkin Donuts to see if I could coax Maggie into eating one of her favorite foods. The child can go days without eating if nothing looks appealing, and being sick for almost two weeks hasn't helped that particular trait, and I knew donuts are something she nearly always loves.

After getting the donuts I stopped at the edge of the parking lot for a moment. If I  turned east I could use the money on my Starbucks app to get a treat for myself too... no. I needed to get home. I turned the car west towards the highway onramp. 

But I could stop and get an ice tea? No again. I told myself. Home. Now.

I went through two green lights before hitting a red at the corner where I needed to turn and head south. A truck pulled up in the turn lane beside me. A man waited to cross the street on my left, carrying groceries. 

I really didn't consciously notice him until he stepped out in front of my car. The light flashed for him to walk. He hadn't glanced at me either. His eyes were fixed straight ahead as he stepped off the sidewalk and headed towards the other side. 

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Someone is going to get hit here.

I thought the words to myself as he moved past the front of my car. 

I'd walked that same intersection many times pushing a stroller and in my head I'd rated it as one of the most dangerous in our little city. People would see you coming, but they'd continue to turn left, while you had the light telling you to walk. 

And it was always so busy, there was never a break in traffic. 

So the man stepped out, to make the cars stop, which we all should have done anyways. He had the right of way. 

I stopped. The man moved past me. I put my foot on the gas and the car started to move.  

When I saw the truck on my right coming up fast in my rear view mirror I turned my head. 

I saw them connect and I saw the man move through the air unnaturally. I saw groceries flying. And I saw the truck jolt to a stop. 

All I could think, was that I was thankful that I didn't have any children with me today, as I swerved off the side of the road and threw the car into park, dialing 911 and giving the cross streets, and asking them to come quickly, and then saying that I was going to try to help before hanging up the phone. 

I parked in the middle of a car dealership lot, and when I ran around the new shiny cars, to the place where a small crowd of men were standing around the half conscious man on the ground. Everyone had a phone in their hand. 

No one was touching him.

When I moved forward, someone said sharply that I needed to stay back and not move him. But all I could think was that if this was my father, or son, or husband I would not want him to suffer and maybe die here on the street with people standing over him with phones in hand, not offering comfort.

Someone should at least hold his hand, I thought vaguely as I moved between the men and found myself by his head, kneeling. 

Besides, eight years of lifeguarding had to have taught me something. All those first aid classes and drills putting people on backboards in eight feet of water was still somewhere back there, ricocheting around in my mind. 

I reached out, not quite sure what I meant to do, and found myself automatically stabilizing his head and neck as someone else brought a blanket and spread it across his body. I said anything reassuring I could think of even though, with the blood and foam coming from his mouth, the words felt like lies. Isn't that a sign of a punctured lung? I thought, but out loud I said, "You're going to be okay. They're almost here. Stay with me. Stay with me. Can you those sirens. They're going to take you to the hospital any second now. Don't try to get up. Just relax. Lay back. They're almost here."

We were so close to the hospital. A really good hospital. They just had to get him there.

He was regaining consciousness and starting to fight to sit up when the police arrived and said to keep holding his head, while they stopped the traffic that had been moving around us, and tried to keep him still. 

And then the ambulance was there, which was the sweetest sight I saw today, and two men jumped out of it, and one of them took over stabilizing his head and neck, and in moments he was on a backboard, and I was scooping up his groceries, and belongings and putting them inside the ambulance and then waiting in the snow, watching the cars fly by, to give a statement.

I realized as I started to drive that I had felt calm in the moment, but once I  started to drive away, I felt sick to my stomach. By the time I got home I was shaking and pale, replaying the moment of the crash over and over again, in my mind, hoping the man was okay. 

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A little after seven, after nearly seven hours of checking the news site, the update finally came. 

I'd been outside hanging Christmas lights in the freezing cold and snow to pass the time when they finally posted it.

The pedestrian, whose name I still don't know, is expected to survive. 

It is the best news. I can let out the breath that I've been holding.

I can finally put down my phone and stop clicking refresh every few minutes.

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And that is why I sat down to write.  Because writing has always been a sort of therapy for me. Once I write something down I can begin to let go of it. My mind can stop replaying it in circles.

Although I'm sure that update will play a big role in helping with that too.

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So that is... the story of my day. Or a piece of my day. 

Meanwhile, we have more or less been in survival mode here, as various sicknesses have gone through the house, which is the main reason I haven't managed to write much lately.

When Maggie is home sick I get very little done. 

Usually writing comes when everyone is asleep and with these rounds of illness I don't stay up much later than the kids.  Until today, that is. 

I do have a couple videos, completely unrelated to todays topic.

I'll write about little Miss Tess and all that she's doing in the very near future. 

But for now I'll leave you with these two videos:

And now it is finally time to go to sleep.

I think I've finally written myself into exhaustion.

And that is a good thing.