I was always made fun of because I was a girl with some chee-cha. It didn't help my popularity that I had a unibrow either. lol...One day, though, chee-cha saved my life!
On May 12th, 1991, Mother's day, my family and I went to Beni Hani for lunch. We came home and while waiting for my mother to get ready, I wanted to ride my bike. A perfect BLUE ANGEL with a cream color banana seat. My dad had just bought a helmet for me the week before, but it's not like I was going away from my street. I was only allowed to ride my bike on the sidewalk and cross the street to get to the other side.
I had stopped at the corner. I heard a car, but it sounded like it was far away. I decided to cross. All I remember is opening my eyes and I was on the floor in a teddy-bear position. I was missing a shoe. Blood trickling down my face. I screamed in french, "où est ma mère!" I didn't know what was going on. A neighbor ran to me, helping me until the ambulance came. Other people ran and just watched me on the floor. I remember the 17 yr old boy getting out of his car and crying because his father was going to kill him. He was speeding. My parents ran to me. My mom with no shoes and my father ready to beat the boy who just hurt his baby. That nice man held my scalp into place because the impact cut my scalp right open. WEAR YOU HELMET!
I was rushed to the hospital. I remember a baby boy being brought into the next room. They had to tend to him before me because he was very sick, but I didn't care. They finally came to me, stitched me up and brought me to the pediatric ward. I couldn't sleep. My poor parents had gone through such an ordeal and they stayed over night. After midnight they brought in a crib and it was the little baby boy, sound asleep. He was okay. I stayed with him the whole night. I held his little fingers through the bars of the crib. We both got a second chance.
Every year, on this day, I celebrate it like it was a birthday. My parents think its silly because for them it is really remembering a day they wish to forget. On that day, something happened and the fact that I only came out with 50 sticjes later and a 6in scar didn't matter. I totally think scars are cool and they tell stories. When I came home the day after, my garage door was covered in get well cards from my friends at LDV elementary school. These are things I will remember.
I never thanked that man who helped me that day until 2006 when I found him and thanked him in person. We have so much in common and we touch base from time to time. I wonder how that little boy is. He is 17 now. I dont know his name, but I am sure he is a heartbreaker. He is probably preparing for his prom. Probably buying his first pack of condoms...lol...probably driving his parents crazy, but as long as he is fine.
Hospitals are meant to be institutions, structured for our health and safety, yet I do not know anyone who can recount a postive story. Maisonneuve Hospital saved my life in 1991, and did so again in 2007-08. How many girls you know can say all that and not have reached 30?...lol...so today is my Chee-cha birthday! Doctors said that if it wasn't for my chee-cha (chubby layers, pinch an inch, that kind of thing..lol), I would have been dead. So eat a steak it won't hurt, maybe have an extra cupcake..lol..you never know when chee-cha might save you...lol.....
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