There are so many accidents here from people driving crazy.
We saw a car that had flipped and landed back upright, as we were returning to Santo Domingo yesterday to talk about Mr. Lumpy.
I could see that it was due to speed, rain and a corner that someone took too fast.
I said to Papi, "Why can't people learn from this? Why doesn't word like this spread around? When someone flips, the wouldn't they say to someone else, 'don't speed in the rain'?"
Papi shook his head, to agree: people just don't think, then added, "I dunno."
Not 3 minutes later, I was begging to Papi, "Please slow down. It's raining and those corners are tight."
Papi doesn't need to slow down! He knows what he's doing! He know how to take a curve! Right?!?!
Directly after my plea, we neared a bend that had me holding on tight to my 'holy fuck, you're going to give me a panic attack' handle above my head, when I felt it; the car started to hydroplane.
I began my usual, sharp, deep breath in, that is the beginning of a panic attack, and I heard Papi say, "Oh fuck."
We fishtailed, with our ass end looking like it was going to turn a full clockwise circle, but Papi managed to straighten out.
That is of course, just enough to over compensate and we spun the other way in a full counter-clockwise whirl.
There we were, heading to the side of the road without any ability to change course.
That's when all my years of accidents kicked in.
I'm not sure how, but some strange way, I always remember what I learned from mountain biking: remain like jelly and go with the crash. Roll with it.
That's what saved me from breaking every bone in my body in the motorcycle accident, as I tumbled over the hood of the car that hit me.
This time, I was able to speak those words of wisdom to Papi. "Relax in the crash!!! Just go limp!!!"
It's amazing what you can do when you love someone and want to be sure they're all right.
Then we had the softest landing I've ever had in an accident, even though it left my already fragile body giving the locals their first sighting of the Limping Lesbian.
Into the marsh of someone's property we went, after crashing through their makeshift barbwire and driftwood fence.
We were only about 12 feet away from a concrete pole that could have really done us in, when I realized our angels were working overtime on this one.
The first thought that crossed my mind was we were going to sink and not be able to get out of the water.
The first thought that crossed Papi's mind was, "How is the car?!"
I feebly got out of the car when everyone stopped to see the grongos locos in the ditch, asking, "Please, we need help."
They mistook my horrible communication that we physically needed help.
No. We were actually OK.
We just needed to get out of the ditch to get to the appointment to talk about Mr. Lumpy a little more with the doctor.
Amazingly enough, this country has a service for idiots who wind up in the ditch, and it's free, yet they won't pay for any medical issues you might have in your crash. Healthcare is not covered. Only crashes.
Along comes an ambulance, that we waved off, and then 30 minutes later, a tow truck.
I suppose, Dominican Republic doesn't charge for morons who go too fast and crash, because there are so many.
They pulled us out, and we drove away quite slowly in embarrassment to the nearest gas station, where we tied things up with rope that were hanging from the underbelly of our car, and snipped off the hubcap that was hanging like a loose tooth.
Then we were off to Santo Domingo, in which we found our way to just fine.
However, leaving? That was another story.
We weren't so lucky to leave without circling the city for an hour before finding the super highway we needed to get home and get me on pain killers before I lost my mind from the searing, shooting sparks going down my legs, and up my back all the way to my cheekbones.
Anyway, the doc gave me a prescription for Mr. Lumpy, which amazingly enough included very high doses of vitamin A, to help shrink it.
I have to go back in 3 months to check that it worked and do another mammogram and sonogram.
Yes, I have to see the scary, mammogram commander.
Hopefully my Spanish will be better and I can win her over with my fluency!
Hopefully, Papi will take this as a warning from the angels, and drive these deadly roads a little more sane.
We saw a car that had flipped and landed back upright, as we were returning to Santo Domingo yesterday to talk about Mr. Lumpy.
I could see that it was due to speed, rain and a corner that someone took too fast.
I said to Papi, "Why can't people learn from this? Why doesn't word like this spread around? When someone flips, the wouldn't they say to someone else, 'don't speed in the rain'?"
Papi shook his head, to agree: people just don't think, then added, "I dunno."
Not 3 minutes later, I was begging to Papi, "Please slow down. It's raining and those corners are tight."
Papi doesn't need to slow down! He knows what he's doing! He know how to take a curve! Right?!?!
Directly after my plea, we neared a bend that had me holding on tight to my 'holy fuck, you're going to give me a panic attack' handle above my head, when I felt it; the car started to hydroplane.
I began my usual, sharp, deep breath in, that is the beginning of a panic attack, and I heard Papi say, "Oh fuck."
We fishtailed, with our ass end looking like it was going to turn a full clockwise circle, but Papi managed to straighten out.
That is of course, just enough to over compensate and we spun the other way in a full counter-clockwise whirl.
There we were, heading to the side of the road without any ability to change course.
That's when all my years of accidents kicked in.
I'm not sure how, but some strange way, I always remember what I learned from mountain biking: remain like jelly and go with the crash. Roll with it.
That's what saved me from breaking every bone in my body in the motorcycle accident, as I tumbled over the hood of the car that hit me.
This time, I was able to speak those words of wisdom to Papi. "Relax in the crash!!! Just go limp!!!"
It's amazing what you can do when you love someone and want to be sure they're all right.
Then we had the softest landing I've ever had in an accident, even though it left my already fragile body giving the locals their first sighting of the Limping Lesbian.
Into the marsh of someone's property we went, after crashing through their makeshift barbwire and driftwood fence.
We were only about 12 feet away from a concrete pole that could have really done us in, when I realized our angels were working overtime on this one.
The first thought that crossed my mind was we were going to sink and not be able to get out of the water.
The first thought that crossed Papi's mind was, "How is the car?!"
I feebly got out of the car when everyone stopped to see the grongos locos in the ditch, asking, "Please, we need help."
They mistook my horrible communication that we physically needed help.
No. We were actually OK.
We just needed to get out of the ditch to get to the appointment to talk about Mr. Lumpy a little more with the doctor.
Amazingly enough, this country has a service for idiots who wind up in the ditch, and it's free, yet they won't pay for any medical issues you might have in your crash. Healthcare is not covered. Only crashes.
Along comes an ambulance, that we waved off, and then 30 minutes later, a tow truck.
I suppose, Dominican Republic doesn't charge for morons who go too fast and crash, because there are so many.
They pulled us out, and we drove away quite slowly in embarrassment to the nearest gas station, where we tied things up with rope that were hanging from the underbelly of our car, and snipped off the hubcap that was hanging like a loose tooth.
Then we were off to Santo Domingo, in which we found our way to just fine.
However, leaving? That was another story.
We weren't so lucky to leave without circling the city for an hour before finding the super highway we needed to get home and get me on pain killers before I lost my mind from the searing, shooting sparks going down my legs, and up my back all the way to my cheekbones.
Anyway, the doc gave me a prescription for Mr. Lumpy, which amazingly enough included very high doses of vitamin A, to help shrink it.
I have to go back in 3 months to check that it worked and do another mammogram and sonogram.
Yes, I have to see the scary, mammogram commander.
Hopefully my Spanish will be better and I can win her over with my fluency!
Hopefully, Papi will take this as a warning from the angels, and drive these deadly roads a little more sane.
i am safe and sound
So glad the "Limping Lesbian" is okay! bahahaha...even in the midst of it all, you're wise-cracking. And this is why I love you. Glad you elaborated a bit about Mr. Lumpy, because you can guess where my mind immediately went (ie. baby bump).
ReplyDeletelmao! ah yes ... that would be a different kinda lumpy hehehe ...
Deleteyes, we're very lucky it wasn't worse. even when i had my major motorcycle accident i was joking with the EMTs ;)
it's my coping strategy :)