Ambulance ride

The first time I rode in the back of an ambulance was my second year of college. I flipped a friend's car on Route 29 and we went to the hospital sirens blaring. I was fine, but that trip started me on my fun-filled neurological trip that really hasn't ended.

Shortly after I got Claren and before I wore my seatbelt regularly, I took another trip. She pulled me out of my chair and I broke my collarbone. It hurt too bad to get in the van we had then, which was rampless, so we called an ambulance. No sirens this  time.

The third time was today. There were sirens.

I went a little off the road on my walk. I tried to back up, but my wheels started spinning. So I went forward. Dumb.

It was down a slope, and I didn't go straight down, so momentum meant I tipped over into some bushes.

I was OK, but my left arm was trapped under the chair and hurt like the dickens. It was stuck, too, and I started panicking. Then I relaxed, undid my seatbelt and began thrashing about with my right arm to grab a branch that would help me pull free.

I didn't free it but loosened it enough so it didn't hurt too bad. Then I started yelling. "Help." "Help." I kept yelling until I heard a voice.

I think his daughter saw me go down, so this guy came over, moved my chair a bit, called EMS, called Mom, and he and a woman waited till the ambulance came.

I told the ambulance guy I couldn't move before I realized what I was saying, so  quickly added, without my chair.

I don't think they were busy, but the hospital was slow. My sister came as Mom and I knew she would.

I seem to be OK, although my blood pressure in the ambulance was 77/33.

At one point, I apologized to my sister for ruining her afternoon.

Her response: "I got you, Matty."

A lot of people do.