Remember that time I got hit by a car?
Well, I sure do. And it was one year ago today!
Waiting for the ambulance at the neighborhood triage point, Utkinskaya Street, Vladivostok.
I'm surprisingly excited about that. On the one hand, the ensuing broken leg fiasco was pretty miserable in many ways. But on the other hand, it was definitely an adventure all the way – from flying through the air at the intersection of Okeanskii and Fokina, to two nights in a Russian hospital and a brief moment in the sun as the focus of an embassy panic, to my "medical evacuation" on three first-class flights that got me out of Russia and across the Pacific in time for Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's, to readapting to life in America from the vantage point of my mom's chair in the family room, to getting packages and visits from caring friends, to surgery and physical therapy and finally to my triumphal return to Russia, a whirlwind winter tour of Pskov, Petersburg and Moscow on a crutch.
It was boring at times, and there were a few low points where all I could feel was soul-crushingly sorry for myself (never a good way to feel), but so many people were so, so nice to me. Especially my friends in Vladivostok, who went to the hospital with me, brought me food and things to do, railed against the crappy driver who hit me, tried to talk some sense into me when I said I wasn't going to go home, and ultimately packed up my stuff for me and sent me off with tears and homemade blini. Those three days would have been a total nightmare without them. And my parents, who not only put up with their cranky, immobile daughter reinvading their house, but basically did everything for me for two whole months without complaining even once. Thanks, guys! I really appreciate how great you are.
So anyway, I look back on it now without any real sense of regret or sadness. It made my year just a little more bizarre, I guess, and now it's a good story, capable of shocking and horrifying pretty much anyone. I'm not a very shocking/horrifying person on the whole, so it's good to have in my arsenal.
And because I believe that you can never be too dorky (well, maybe you can, but I haven't hit my ceiling yet), I got out an eyeliner pencil and decided to show you how my knee is feeling: