So... as I was saying in my post on Friday (linking would literally take me an additional 20 minutes so if you want to check it out, you're going to have to do the legwork yourself...sheesh--you lazy bums! Where did you spend the weekend? Club Med? Ahem...), I'd been in a six car pile-up on the freeway. I was in shock, and surrounded by Norwegians + one screaming girl. After pondering the repercussions of re-taking Kindergarten as a 16-year-old for awhile, the police finally arrived and were quick to reassure me that I could, indeed, still understand English.
I rushed to insist that I was going to be late for my first class and needed someone to drive me to school. (I attribute this astounding increase in responsibility to my state of shock. As much as I would like to claim that I was really that diligent in high school, I usually tried to stay home if I suspected I had to sneeze.) The policeman looked at my car/new accordion and informed that I was going nowhere until I'd filled out a police report and had a paramedic check me out. I tried to argue, but he just kept muttering "civic duty" and "juvenile detention" until I agreed.
He escorted me to his car where he handed me a police report and instructed me to "just fill out the information on the top and draw a picture on the bottom." I got right to work, as I said, remarkably responsible. I answered all the questions and then drew my picture in the space at the bottom of the page. When the officer came back, I handed him my report and asked if I could go to school now. He took the page and looked it over, then looked back at me, and back at my report again.
My picture looked something like this:
Yes, for real.
In my defense, the policeman really should've been more specific about what he wanted me to draw. Clarity is crucial. Apparently, a smiley sun was not what he had in mind and he could've been more detailed about that. "Draw a picture without a smiling sun please."
Not that hard, Mr. Officer, not that hard.
Surprisingly, when he saw my picture the policeman didn't release me to go to school or even compliment my impressive skillz. Instead he looked at me funny, told me not to move...and called over the paramedic.
After assessing my situation, and my lovely police report, the paramedic decided I needed to be checked out at the hospital. So, they strapped me to a very flat, very hard board, and put me in an ambulance with the screaming girl. She had a stretcher, and a pillow.
That just didn't sit right with me.
The entire trip to the hospital I repeatedly informed the paramedic that not only did I have insurance, but it was good insurance. My insurance would surely pay for a pillow... I may have also used the words: lawyer, malpractice, and 'like SO rude' a few times. Now that I think about it, I'm not certain the paramedic responded to me at all.
That's like SO rude!
Anyway, I had pretty bad whiplash and a minor concussion and everyone else in the accident was fine--a minor miracle. And I ended up with an "infamous" car crash story.
Have a happy week everyone!!