Whiplashed!
It was a pretty ordinary day. Slower, in fact, than the usual day. I woke up just like every other day, with not even a small premonition of things to come. I didn't even bother to wake my self up completely with my usual freshly-brewed mountain coffee blend. I just dragged myself from the bed, absent-mindedly ate breakfast, did the routine and left for work.
Overcast skies, surreal sunlight, and very light traffic--it almost felt like Sunday driving. I took the expressway like I usually do, but drove a tad slower than usual. No rush. After all, I'd rather be driving to Tagaytay than to work that day. Nearing my exit, I slowed down and took the express lane, with just a couple of cars in front of me. I glided to a smooth stop, maintaining more than the usual distance from the car in front. I was not in the usual maniacal traffic-induced tail-gating mood. Slow, slow day.
Then I felt my car lurch forward a couple of feet, taking up the slack that was between me and the car in front. I got rear-ended! Having experienced eight car accidents within three months last year, my mind went into overdrive. Instinctively, I put the car into park, pulled up the parking brakes, composed myself and glanced up the rearview. All I could see was a wall of dusty white. Then I realized what it was--a bus was smack up my bumper!
Memories of the past mishaps went racing through my mind. The runaway jeepney that lost its brakes, sandwiching a minivan caught between him and my car. The taxi cab slamming into my side from the opposite lane, with a driver so wicked he even asked for a hundred bucks for the damage on his bumper. Or the biker guy flying over my hood, looking exactly like it did in the movies. Those were catastrophies of legendary proportion, but do they compare to being hit by a bus? No way.
I felt blood rushing to my head, veins throbbing, threatening to pop at the slightest provocation. The hypertensive me was freaking out, I could have a stroke or aneurism or heart attack any minute. I have to relax.
Deep breath. Slow deep breaths. And then I stepped out of the car to inspect the damage. The bumper was intact. No visible dents. Even the coat of dust lay undisturbed. This could not be. It was a gigantic, humongous, elephantian, gargantuan bus that hit me. So I looked again. Nadah.
Sensing that the police are only minutes away, I quickly boarded my car, drove to the toll booth and gave exact change to expedite my escape. Inquisitively, the toll guy asked "Nabangga ho kayo?" (Did you get bumped?) "Oo, eh." (Yeah I was.) I replied. And even before the barrier has completely lifted, I sped away far from the bus, the police and the curious toll guy. Clearly a not-so-textbook, not so usual case of hit-and-run.
The adrenaline pumped out as quickly as it pumped in. I soon became aware of a sharp pain at my lower back. With no visible injuries and the car surviving without a scratch, I opted not to immediately inform The Wife of what transpired, the worst being over and so as not to alarm her unnecessarily. So I went on to the office and had the usual day at work, saying a prayer of thanks to God over and over for having kept me from harm. But throughout the day, the sharp pain jabbed at my side. Could it be broken bones? Elevated blood pressure? Punctured kidneys? I began to worry.
I got home that night, thankful that my not so ordinary day was coming to a close, but with the pain still persisting at the small of my back. I related to The Wife the not-so-usual things that happened and possible internal injuries I might be suffering. "Oh, that's probably whiplash." she quickly diagnosed. "Whiplash?! How could that be?" I said, with one eyebrow raised as high as my hairline would allow. And then she explained how the force from the lurching car has pushed me forward, and my stepping on the brakes has stopped the car, stopping my body with it, having been restrained by the three-point seatbelt I had in place. Unfortunately, the bulk of the mass in my mid-section, which remained unrestrained, continued moving forward due to inertia and has placed some strain on my back as a result.
And that second whiplash for the day shattered the fantasies of the macho me, taking my splintered ego with it.
Overcast skies, surreal sunlight, and very light traffic--it almost felt like Sunday driving. I took the expressway like I usually do, but drove a tad slower than usual. No rush. After all, I'd rather be driving to Tagaytay than to work that day. Nearing my exit, I slowed down and took the express lane, with just a couple of cars in front of me. I glided to a smooth stop, maintaining more than the usual distance from the car in front. I was not in the usual maniacal traffic-induced tail-gating mood. Slow, slow day.
Then I felt my car lurch forward a couple of feet, taking up the slack that was between me and the car in front. I got rear-ended! Having experienced eight car accidents within three months last year, my mind went into overdrive. Instinctively, I put the car into park, pulled up the parking brakes, composed myself and glanced up the rearview. All I could see was a wall of dusty white. Then I realized what it was--a bus was smack up my bumper!
Memories of the past mishaps went racing through my mind. The runaway jeepney that lost its brakes, sandwiching a minivan caught between him and my car. The taxi cab slamming into my side from the opposite lane, with a driver so wicked he even asked for a hundred bucks for the damage on his bumper. Or the biker guy flying over my hood, looking exactly like it did in the movies. Those were catastrophies of legendary proportion, but do they compare to being hit by a bus? No way.
I felt blood rushing to my head, veins throbbing, threatening to pop at the slightest provocation. The hypertensive me was freaking out, I could have a stroke or aneurism or heart attack any minute. I have to relax.
Deep breath. Slow deep breaths. And then I stepped out of the car to inspect the damage. The bumper was intact. No visible dents. Even the coat of dust lay undisturbed. This could not be. It was a gigantic, humongous, elephantian, gargantuan bus that hit me. So I looked again. Nadah.
Sensing that the police are only minutes away, I quickly boarded my car, drove to the toll booth and gave exact change to expedite my escape. Inquisitively, the toll guy asked "Nabangga ho kayo?" (Did you get bumped?) "Oo, eh." (Yeah I was.) I replied. And even before the barrier has completely lifted, I sped away far from the bus, the police and the curious toll guy. Clearly a not-so-textbook, not so usual case of hit-and-run.
The adrenaline pumped out as quickly as it pumped in. I soon became aware of a sharp pain at my lower back. With no visible injuries and the car surviving without a scratch, I opted not to immediately inform The Wife of what transpired, the worst being over and so as not to alarm her unnecessarily. So I went on to the office and had the usual day at work, saying a prayer of thanks to God over and over for having kept me from harm. But throughout the day, the sharp pain jabbed at my side. Could it be broken bones? Elevated blood pressure? Punctured kidneys? I began to worry.
I got home that night, thankful that my not so ordinary day was coming to a close, but with the pain still persisting at the small of my back. I related to The Wife the not-so-usual things that happened and possible internal injuries I might be suffering. "Oh, that's probably whiplash." she quickly diagnosed. "Whiplash?! How could that be?" I said, with one eyebrow raised as high as my hairline would allow. And then she explained how the force from the lurching car has pushed me forward, and my stepping on the brakes has stopped the car, stopping my body with it, having been restrained by the three-point seatbelt I had in place. Unfortunately, the bulk of the mass in my mid-section, which remained unrestrained, continued moving forward due to inertia and has placed some strain on my back as a result.
And that second whiplash for the day shattered the fantasies of the macho me, taking my splintered ego with it.
posted by Gil at 12:29 AM
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