Goose. Goose. Ducati.

Somehow my need for speed translated over into my rushing last chance to get everything I wanted out of Taylorsville before leaving the office. The week had already determined itself to be the worst after layoffs which resulted in my team being without a manager only momentarily before they decided to split us in two and send us to an entirely different office location than the rest of our colleagues and friends. I wasn’t shy in telling my Director that the new plan was taking away every reason I had to come to work in the morning when things weren’t perfect. I was already coping with my brother moving to LA that day. I didn’t want anything more to deal with. But the week quickly unfolded to a pyscho sematic panic quesfioning if this could be the lowest point so I could now start to get over it. Miguel was nice enough to say goodnight to me a few times, making a point to walk with me for old times sake when I burst into tears on him Monday afternoon.

But then there was Friday. Miguel had said goodbye to me the night before. Our hugs were growing more familiar again. Alissa and I were partially serious about planning to intervene. My new manager had given me only three full days left in that office. I had three days to go all or nothing on this one and everyone was on my side, seemingly even his best friends. As Alissa and I talked about it, his best friend and roommate passed in the hallway with another friend of theirs. I thought to bring this full circle and he was already on my wave length.

“Are you going to buy my Ducati?” he asked.

“Yup. Approved loan right here. You still owe me a ride on it.”

“I dont think my girlfriend would appreciate that too much. Have Miguel take you.”

“Ok.”

“I’m just kidding. He doesnt know how to ride.”

“That liar! I thought he did. Well then you will have to show me.”

“Nope. Why dont you just take it for a spin, you said you ride.”

“Ok!”

“Parking lot only.”

“Ya I am ok with that. It is just a test run.”

We defermined a time during my break and detrrmined that he had the right size helmet, I had thr boots and gloves. We would be in action. I jumped on and he noted how the bike fit my height perfectly. It was heavier than other Monsters I had ridden but it was a lot prettier. The custom flat black piping alone made me drool. I walked her out and clicked her into first and griped about how Dane and Wade couldnt sit there starring at me because it was creeping me out. I immediately stalled, forgetting I couldnt make hand motions to brush them back around the corner of the building while in first gear. At first I tried restarting her like my car before Dane reminded me of tbe engine start button. I had never forgotten that before. Knowing they were watching me and about half a doze others from the building just made me cringe. I finally got over it and just went for my ride down every isle. I love Ducs. I flew past the boys, flipped them off for good measure and took the wide open range of the back parking lot to test the speed. Third gear… Fourth gear… My last memory was rounding thr back corner of the lot too wide and caclulating the obstacles. Dirt to my right, sand bags… Curb. My mind calculted curb about as fast as I probably hit it. I never braked. I had just enough time to even release my hand from the gas.

My next memory was Dane and Alissa directly in my face. They were speaking and I had no clue who they were in that moment or what was being said. I could not hear anything. Then my eye sight gave. I was told Dane got the bike off of me as it landed on top of me. Alissa had Wade run and call 911. He stayed on the phone until the ambulance arrived. At some point, Dane left to get Miguel who came out just as the ambulance arrived. None of this I can recall, it is all what I have been told.

I dont recall anything about an ambulance coming – people, stretchers, the inside. What I do recall is that as I realized I was going to be taken away, I started to grasp Alissa’s arm. I remember somehow thinking if I could remember who Dane and Alissa were then I wouldnt have to go through “this.” I had no idea what “this” meant. I know that it was soon after their faces left my memory (or to me, my eyesight), I knew who they were and I could sense my mind repeatedly asking outloud for Miguel and occassionally Alissa when I realized no one was understanding me, but much like being deep under water, I could sense the desire to ask but I never heard or felt myself say anything. It wasnt until days later when I spoke with a nurse who had attended me in the ER that he described their worry for my brain trauma because despite any questions they were asking me – name, birthdate, do you know where you are, etc. – I kept responding with the same question he said. I immediately knew what that question was. Little did they know, I could not hear them. Not only did I still have a motorcycle helmet on, I was in and out of consciousness which causes my hearing and eyesight to vanish. By the time I was out of x rays and catscans – something else I was completely unconscious for, I recognized Alissa at my bed side. I rattled off my full name, my birthdate, my address. I knew what hospital I was at simply by what made the most sense. Still, my priorities were a little backwards as Alissa told me she had my phone and belongings. I had her call mh Dad. My Dad had already been notified by my work. Then my Aunt arrived and for some time I was distracted by the outofthisworld pain despite three shots of morphine that was caused by washing and dressing my road rash wounds before resetting my broke ankle and splinting my broken fingers. My Aunt said that my body shook violently out of pain and that I lay there grinding my teeth incecently trying to cope while she said to me that it was ok to scream. This was another point where I remember no words, no one’s presence. I onlh remember the shaking until I was somehow gone in another world – hopefully held by my own Mother who refuses to let me die and be with her but is good enough to me to keep me from feeling too much of the pain in this world.

By the time I came back to, my Dad had arrived and he had a speech prepared as to why and what I had done wrong, that there are less stupid people in the world and that he had never condoned such a thing of any of us. My tears were streaming. Despite it all, I had not actually cried until this moment. He was dictating Alissa or my Aunt to leave so my Step Mother could come back. Only two at a time in an ER trauma room. I could hear thr preturbed but peace-keeper sense in Alissa’s voice as she volunteered to go. She reassured me that Miguel had returned my car home and that she was going back with her husband to pick up Rosie, the dog. My Aunt stood, almost protecting me. Although she may agree with everything being said, the deliverance was ill-timed and not one that could be faulted.

I was out again. Gone. My memory fades until I was transferred to the trauma surgical floor. My oldest sister and her kids, my Dad and my step Mother sat in a corner of the room where I could not see them and spoke to each other about their lives. Once Kate arrived, I was fine and less emotional as she sat directly on my bed with me and attended to the things that I was worried about.

Then Josh arrived unexpedly. I mildly remembered my odd set of priorities in the ER for needing to cancel all upcoming appointments and dates. I suppose one of the very first people I contacted was Josh. We had plans to play some games this weekend after he had spent Tuesday watching movies with Rosie and I. Before I knew it, here he was, surprised at the fact that my entire family was there and not visiting with me at all. I assurred him that I had already gotten the “idiot” speech twice today and that they are here waiting for my brother in law, who will be a relief to see because he wont come in the door telling me what a dumbass I am.

As soon as my brother in law arrived, a blessing was given for sleep and fast recovery and within moments my family was out the door to go have dinner together. I really have nothing against this ritual because they were all very clear with me in December about their “desire to be writ-from the responsibility list for my life.” So they were not called and I am not emotionally reliant on them. I am better off this way. I will have less desire to mix narcos with anything on my hap-hazard list.

My brother, however, made his choice without expectation. He flew home after only a few days at his new job in LA and he stayed the night with me the first night. Kate, my brother Josh, and to my surprise my date Josh all crashed in the room. Two to the couch and Josh very, very carefully at my side which allowed me more comfort than him as he was able to prop me up in a sleep-like position with the world’s least comfortable neck brace on and a body full of bandages. With bruised ribs and slow setting lungs, it took everything in me to move into any position but there he lay – perfectly still for me well into the next day when everyone suddenly disappeared and I was left to my own devices of sleeping for another 20 hours.

One more night in after that and Josh-boy (not to be confused with Josh bro) stayed the night with me again. In fact, it is arguable that he is the only reason I am out as he got physical therapy i there working with me, he made sure I had everything I needed and despite every known issue in the book, he survived all my bathroom ettiquete of making sure I had what I needed to shower and that I could get in and out. I was kind of amazed that someone I just met could find the time to muster the amount of blood and grossness in my life to treat me, in my zombie-like state more worthwhile then anyone had ever treated me. He asked about my former relationship with Mike, about December and my former hospital stays. He asked about what Miguel meant to me and if I was one of those chicks he needed to be an asshole to to get my attention. On the contrary, it isnt the asshole part that caught me. It was sweet moments like this. It is the fact that Davee refuses to let me give up on everyone simply because they are being an asshole.

But the whole conversation made me think deeper on an already sullen coast i’d been skeeming – as to all of the people I know in my life – family and friends, as well as the 9 some odd dates I have been on in the last two weeks. Now take a sort of Facebook-like “top” approach to family, best friends, and the few favorite dates be they friends or a future and somehow it seems both right and statistically blessed by human nature that I should land my best friend (Alissa), my best friend sis (Kate), my best friend bro (Josh), someone I am dating (Josh 2), and even an attempt at rekindling broken family ties (Ilse). Still, although I am so grateful that my sister Julie is back from Texas and so willing to help and I am so grateful for my Dad and his wife who brought me some much needed things all the way from Heber and my sister and her husband for sharing flowers and blessings all the way from Provo. I am even grateful for my good friends and neighbors for visiting and being willing to help out with trading cars with me (Dave). I am grateful for Blake bringing me laughs, goodies and being willing to reinstall my shower head for me since I am totally helpless. Everyone has been so amazing. But there is still a part of me that pains with the rest of my body as to why certain people arent here.

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One response to “Goose. Goose. Ducati.

  1. Maybe you should make it a point to stop trying to show off for your “committed/married,” fantasy boyfriends and stick to the crazies.

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