This week’s theme of road kill reminded me of another accident I had. Not only was I hit by a Ford Tempo, I have also been hit by my own car. How many people do you know have been hit by their own car when there wasn’t anybody driving it?
Steve and I lived in a townhouse in Ottawa. The driveway was slanted downhill into the one-car garage. Steve used to park his car in the garage. I would park at the top of the driveway so he could pull around my car and into the garage. One morning, I started my car, then decided to clean out the garbage and stuff from the front seat. I left the car idiling in neutral and started off down the driveway to deposit the trash. Once I got to the bottom of the driveway, I was all of a sudden pinned to the garage door. I felt like I was being attacked.
I panicked for a moment (at the thought of being attacked) before I realized that my car had followed me down the driveway and bumped me into the garage door. I pushed the car off my legs and went back into the house. I thought I was fine. I decided to go to work. I could walk after all, no? By noon though, I had to ask a colleague to get me some snow from outside so I could ice my legs. They were swollen to at least twice their normal size. She ended up convincing me to go home. It wasn’t worth being at work with my legs elevated with snow on them trying to finish the project.
I guess I was pretty lucky that it didn’t break my legs. I just ended up with sore, swollen calves for a few days.
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