A minor one.
But an accident, nonetheless. As I’ve said many times, I am mostly housebound due to chronic, debilitating weakness. Fatigue is a word too many people can claim as their own, everyone having experienced it to some degree. I loathe the word, as it’s clear most people have no clue what I’m dealing with when they try to sympathize and tell me how they, too, suffer from fatigue.
This is not to dismiss people’s well-intentioned attempts at commiseration as I, too, have suffered from varying degrees of fatigue since I can remember. It’s all worthy of being bummed out about, but for 2 decades of my experience of fatigue I maintained a life, that from the outside, looked normal. I can no longer do that. I hobble around the house like a 90 year old and I, apparently, drive like one now too.
I hit a parked car. Yup. A parked car in a parking lot. I was turning in to pull up along side of it and I miscalculated the distance. I was not going faster than 2 miles per hour and likely even more slowly. I put a nice scrape down the side of the car I hit. It was a superficial scrape in that there was no denting, but it was a big one.
My car on the other hand did not make it out so lucky. The bumper is partially disconnected and cracked.
I left a note on the car and went into the store and purchased my journal. Yup, I was getting a journal to better document my down and not so downs. I don’t really have any ups at the moment. I think of my brother dying of cancer often, as I feel that what I experience can’t be terribly different except that hopefully my debilitation will pass without my dying.
I have a name for what I’m experiencing now. CHEMICAL INJURY.
Once I made my purchase, it struck me that I might need to call the police rather than leave the scene, even with a note attached to the car. I had forgotten my cell phone so I asked the people in the store if I could use their phone. Sure enough the police said that I could not leave without risking being accused of hit and run, even with the note.
So I went out to the car, hoping desperately that I would hold it together until they got there. My state of well-being fluctuates and sometimes I can barely speak, let alone drive, and the cops were now involved. This was scary.
As I sat in my car, next to the car I’d hit, I also started fantasizing who the owner might be. I hoped that it would not be some belligerent huge man who would start screaming at me. It was pretty uncomfortable waiting there.
After about ten minutes a couple of women, who turned out to be an adult daughter and mother had opened the trunk and were putting their shopping in it. I exited my car and stammered the reason for my being there.
They were, gratefully, very nice. They sympathized with the greater damage on my car and thanked me for not leaving. They actually showed some disbelief that I had acted so responsibly, saying most people would have left, most likely without even a note.
We called the police and they said we could go our separate ways. We exchanged insurance information and said goodbye.
I came home and called the insurance company and all is well the bumper will be repaired the injured party, too, will have their car repaired.
Except now I probably really am housebound 100% of the time rather than 80%. I was very lucky that this accident was so minor and inconsequential. Driving home was very scary. I was shaking and very weak after being out so long.