Fucking tracks

The first thing one learns riding in San Francisco is how to be respectful and thoughtful of the cable car tracks on Market Street. Always approach them at a perpendicular angle, watch out when it has been raining. Such and so forth, etc etc etc.

Yesterday I left work early, full of celebration at the SCOTUS decision about DOMA and Prop 8. I was going to meet my friend, first stopping to look at some new jeans. I was riding behind a street sweeper and wanted to pull around them when they stopped behind a bus. I pulled into the left lane, carefully avoiding the TRACKS, pulled around and sped up. I realized there was a bus behind me and needed to scoot out of the way. I pulled in front of the parked bus and caught my wheel in the fucking tracks.

I keep replaying that shit in my head and it doesn't get any better so I'm not going to repeat it. Let's just say I am grateful that the only damage was to my knee and jeans.

Two really rad nurses were by the side of the road and helped me. They were asking me if I was ok and I was all, 'I'm not sure'. I could walk, my knee hurt, my bike seemed to be ok.

On the side of the road I checked my knee out, my jeans were ripped so I ripped them more so that I could take a look. Yuck. I saw things under my skin that from an art/anatomy perspective both fascinated and horrified me.

The hardest part of this was figuring out what to do. Ann, one of the nurses, stayed with me. She was amazing, she offered wipes and ideas about how to get to the hospital. I could not see getting on the bus with my bike and getting to St. Mary's. I eventually called my friend Jessica and she came over and dealt with my bike like a champ. She was clever and dropped off her bike at Huckleberry bikes, they checked out my bike in the meantime and straightened out the stem.

She then rode my bike to my house while I went to L'hospital in a cab. This is the first time I have been to the hospital since I was a kid. Thank goodness they make it easy. Everyone at St. Mary's was of course über nice.

Jessica came back and hung out with me for which I have an overflowing amount of gratitude.

I got a vicodin, five stitches and X-rays. Nothing was broken.
I consider this to be a pretty lucky accident. No cars or buses were involved. I lost a pair of jeans, but they have already been reconditioned into jortz (jean shorts).
Unfortunately this happens often enough that there is a tshirt, which will be here soon.