I'm lucky and thankful

To be alive. Here's why.

My last post was on March 19. On March 26, a senior colleague from work and I decided to hop out along the road during lunch hour. I took my brolly down, and said we would walk. But she had just got her motorbike licence a month ago, and got a new motorbike to boot, so insisted on my riding pillion with her. Entirely my fault. So, through the drive, I kept saying, go carefully, and she said "Please have some confidence in me."

Anyway, we were going back and had to take a U-turn. She was on the left lane, and suddenly swerved to the right for the turn. A speeding car crashed into us -- I knew it was going to and managed a 'look out!' I was airborne, crashed into the car, broke the windscreen and bounced off into the road, hitting my head and hip. I blacked out.

I came to and found my colleague in hysterics. She pulled her hair loose and was screaming at the top of her voice. Not even a scratch on her, mind you. Searing pain through me.

Onlookers yanked me up by the wrists (!) and tried to get me to a hospital. She promptly shot to the top of my "contempt list" by PHYSICALLY pulling my left arm, preventing them from taking me to the hospital, screeching, "No, there's nothing wrong with you."

At this point, I lost my temper. Right there, in the middle of the road, I yelled, "Do you want me to die here of brain haemorrhage?" I'm not even sure if there is such a thing! But it worked. She let go of me and I was taken to the hospital. She tagged along, bursting into tears (she's older than I--28 or so, mind you). So I had to deal with calling my family up, looking after our bags and brollys, all that pain and a hysterical woman.

At the hospital, I blacked out again after telling them my blood group and allergies. When I came to, I was in the neuro intensive care with occipital haematoma (outside the brain, thank Heavens), hip, lower back and finger injuries. Need to have a tooth out next week as it got impacted and infected. The pain was so bad it took me a while to read, or even walk without help.

Am much better now, and hope to return to work in ten days' time. Not allowed to bend, lift weights, go gymming, take the stairs or run or jump for three months. Oh dear. And worst of all, my birthday, in mid-April was a damp squib. Got plenty of presents, but all my plans were spoilt.

So that's a rather personal sob-story. But the idea is not to whine or whinge. I'm THANKFUL. This could have ended so badly. At least, I can blog again. I've promised my mom and aunt that I shall not get on a motorbike again. I've put my family through enough trauma, and can only imagine how awful it must have been for them to stand outside the intensive care unit for days.

The question is, why are there hysterical, weepy and wimpy women in this century? She actually said she felt faint, and collapsed in a heap, once she reached the hospital. And she did the same thing whenever the police tried to speak to her about the accident. I didn't know this, or else I would have turned up in a Victorian bonnet, with smelling salts.

I think I know why there still are spineless women out there, who go to pieces and lose their heads in a crisis. It is because of an overdose of reading and viewing material along those lines. You know all those books where women are oh-so-naive and weak, and depend for everything on this six-footer guy? That's what I'm talking about.

I asked her last week why on earth she made such a cake of herself, and she said, "It was all too much for me." What was? My dad rushed to the hospital when he heard, and all he did was ask her what happened -- she collapsed! "It is the first time such a thing has happened to me," she said to me later. Hey, this is my first accident, too. I don't go about falling off motorbikes for a hobby.

Whatever happened to the emotionally mature, sensible, independent woman of the twenty first century? Was she swallowed up during her teenage by Barbara Cartlands and sitcoms? I hope not.

I'm not saying all women are like that. Certainly not. I would rather shoot myself at point blank range, boil myself in oil and then imprison myself, than scream and screech in a crisis. But the fact is that there are such women out there, despite the powerful, sophisticated image we've built for ourselves.

So that's about it, to wind up a rather harsh post. Maybe we need more books with brave heroines. Thoughts?