Elizabeth turned her car around and they came back to the scene of the accident. I sat in the car having my first-ever-full-blown-honest-to-gosh panic attack, shaking so badly I couldn’t speak. (I’m surprised I didn’t break teeth from the ferocity of the shivers.) I put on my flashers and opened my door, but did not get out of the car.
The next several minutes are just totally gone from my recollection. But suddenly, almost before I knew it, EMS was there, Cedar Hill police and fire were there, and then three mall cops joined the swarm of red and blue flashing lights.
EMS took my blood pressure. I told him, as he put the cuff on my left arm, “I normally run about 115 over 75.” He laughed and said, “You’re gonna be a little higher than that today.” And he was right, but it was only 140 over 85, which as far as I’m concerned, speaks volumes about my health in general. Cuff off and deemed ok by my gallant first responder, I stepped out of the car. Of course I had bumps and bruises, only one of which was bothering me at the time (ALL of which reared their ugly selves in pure vengeance a long 72 hours later) but nothing that required immediate medical attention, and so I signed the release denying transport. Only then did I walk around and look at the other side of my car.
All in all, it took about 30 minutes to give my statement five times (twice to city police and three separate times to each mall cop). The chief responding city police officer gave me a card containing relevant info about the other driver. Officer Malone, dear sweet man, even picked up the big piece of my car that was laying on the pavement, and since the passenger side doors won’t open, took it around to the driver’s side and laid it in the back seat. And let me say right here, right now, there are wonderful police all over, but Saturday in Cedar Hill I became a real fan of CHPD. And said so on Mayor Franke’s facebook page.
But back to the other driver. She was an extremely nice youngster, and I credit her not only with keeping her wits about her but also with fearlessly acting in the best interest of everyone. Sure, she caused the accident, but if you live long enough and drive long enough, you’re eventually going to be in a traffic mishap. Hanna’s parents should be proud. If she were my daughter, I certainly would be!!
Once cleared to leave the scene, Elizabeth followed me home, fearing to let me make the trip totally alone. I staved off the tears by telling myself to just keep it together, keep it together, just a few more minutes, just keep it together, repeating the mantra over and over. Wouldn’t you know, every traffic light from Uptown Village to my house was red, and Saturday afternoon traffic at its peak. The trip here seemed interminable. But we finally pulled up in the drive. After reassuring Elizabeth I did NOT want to go to a hospital, we hugged, and she was on her way. And I was into my house, strangely quiet with the television off, only the sounds of Jim snoring in the bedroom.
Called my insurance company. Of course, it being a weekend afternoon, no one was there, so left a message. And then changed my clothes. No, I did not need to put on clean underwear. Mother was wrong.
And then I just collapsed on the sofa, and sat listening to the rain, realizing how much worse things could have been, and considering the possible scenarios for my future, all of them appearing as bleak as the weather.
Monday morning made an appointment with my insurance company; two hours later all the paperwork was done as far as the State is concerned, and I had an estimate from a local body shop. Monday afternoon gave a recorded statement to the other insurance company. Tuesday morning went to the other company’s adjuster. Yep, everybody agreed, my car is totaled. Wednesday passed with no word from anyone. Ditto Thursday. Friday morning I called the other company, but of course the lady assigned to my claim was not there, and I had to leave a message. She called me three hours later and informed me that someone else was now handling the case, it’s still a matter of whether or not they want to accept liability, yada yada yada, and nothing else can be done until we get to that point. But, oh by the way, they have no idea when that might be.
It really doesn't look all that bad, and it's drivable, but the wind whistles through the cracks so loud it's hard to hear the radio unless I turn the volume up enough that I become a noise nuisance to the neighborhood, so I just don't turn it on anymore. As Jim is so fond of saying, you're not paranoid when they really are out to get you. I'm not paranoid. I'm not. But any trip I have to make now in the car is done with constant prayer that I'll get wherever I have to go safely and back home again without incident, and my nerves are shot by the time I return. I am slowly losing the soreness in my left shoulder caused by the seat belt, the bruises on my wrist and knee have turned an ugly healing brown, and the back ache can be mitigated by Aleve. But sudden noises are my undoing; a ringing phone sends me to the ceiling.
I feel victimized. Not by the other driver, but by the insurance companies. No one speaks for me. No one is my advocate. All these years paying all that money for premiums only to find out my company won’t do anything for me unless I’m willing to pay out more cash; and of course the other company’s job is to make sure they delay delay delay anything and everything for as long as possible. Maybe they all hope I’ll just go away? Or better yet, die? I’m retired and have plenty of time to take care of what I must do, but I can only imagine what a nightmare it would be if I had to go to work each day and at the same time still try to take care of a situation like this. I guess it’s my job to just sit and bide; for the rest of my life, if necessary. I am in limbo, waiting for someone, anyone, to do the right thing, and make a decision. Somebody just please tell me SOMETHING!!!!!
In light of this past week, I now understand the reasons behind the latest government shutdown. When nobody will do the right thing and everybody wants only their way and each side refuses to even talk to the other, it's the citizen in the middle who gets stuck with the pain and the suffering and the economic loss. This week I'm the guy in the middle. Today's limbo is not a good place to be. Last night I finally cried.
First, thank GOD you are OK!
ReplyDeleteAlso, I'm glad your insurance agent isn't a Kenyan who barely speaks English, sitting on a bench somewhere in the wilds of Africa, speaking with a bad cell phone connection, like my AT$T customer service rep.