One Thursday afternoon, I stepped out to cross a city street – and woke up in hospital with broken bones and a brain injury. After I recovered, I started looking into why so many drivers just don’t stop
I heard a woman say, “She was hit by a car.” I thought: It sounds as if she’s talking about me, but that can’t be right. I couldn’t see. I didn’t know where I was. But I wasn’t worried. I sensed that I was surrounded by purposeful strangers and that my partner, David, was by my side. Abruptly, I grunted and twisted. A nurse who was watching my signals thrust a bedpan toward me. I dismissed the bedpan, leaned right and vomited blood over the bedrail. Still, I wasn’t alarmed or in pain – yet. I was only perplexed.
The last thing I remembered was leaving a grocery store and thinking these bags are heavy. That had been three hours earlier. Given the police report, doctors’ notes, and conversations with eyewitnesses, I’ve gathered some details from the time I lost.
