Last night I was in another bike crash. This time, I landed on the hood of a '99 Nissan. Luckily, I was able to walk away with bruises. Physically, I'm fine. But psychologically, I'm completely rattled. I didn't realize how bad the shock was until I woke up this morning. Everything ached. I went to the doctor to get checked out, since I denied transport to the hospital last night (ambulances cost $6,000-$10,000!), and she recommended I see a counselor. Bah Humbug, I thought. I am strong and confident. I'll shake this off. 24 hours later, I can't.
I still need to assess the damage to my bike. The reporting LAPD officers gave me a ride home after the accident and threw the bike in their trunk. I put the bike next to the wall when I got home and haven't touched it since. I can't. I get shaky and am on the verge of tears. I am so angry that this accident has made me afraid. I am angry that using a bike for transportation is life-threatening. I am angry of the fear that has taken over, thinking about worse accidents that may come. Most of all, I am angry that motorists have won.