the twenty third story belongs somewhere about 3/4 the way through the twenty second story

It's been so long since i've been on google+ that part 1 of this story has long since passed into memory, but here's part two. Or, maybe it's the middle part.

Picking up from the middle of the last story: I had a small section of leg missing, and was about 15 miles from home on a bicycle. I did have a cell phone. I only knew two people in the Boston area with cars; Case and Dustin. I didn't really know where I was, and Dustin seemed like a better candidate for figuring that out, so I called him. I told him I needed to go to the hospital and get stitches, and needed a ride. We didn't know each other well then, but we'd met in the foundry, and he'd seen me pretty badly hurt, yet refusing to take off the few minutes to get a proper bandage, so he knew this meant serious. He said he'd be right there, and asked where I was. I got as far as "there's this one set of unlit ballards" and he knew just where I was. He asked if I could walk at all, and I said yes, and he told me he'd meet me in the nursery parking lot about 500 yards towards Boston. Sure enough, it was there, and I waited, and he was there pretty quick. When he arrived, he asked if I really needed stitches, or if I just wanted a ride home. I said no, I really needed stitches. We went to Mt auburn hospital, and I walked up to the check in desk. It is important to the story that a) I have a clumsy tomboy's pain tolerance- VERY HIGH, and b) I was still flirting with Dustin, no way I was gonna admit to weakness in front of him. So I walked up to the desk, and, when asked what I was there for, said, with a smile, that I had misplaced a bit of my leg out on the bike path. I suppose this was not the right approach, as we then sat in the waiting room for two hours before I even saw a triage nurse. When we finally did see her, she asked me to unbandage the leg so she could see it. I did so. She, of course, was unshockable, though she did berate me for not complaining and getting into her earlier. Dustin leaned over, took a look, and said "Whoa! That's BIG", and both she and I laughed. I was immediately taken into a room. They insisted on taking xrays, while I was arguing that we could see the bone with our bare eyes ( I imagine they were right). After that, the actual stitching started. Now, while I am totally cool with pain, doctors kinda freak me out, and, at some point post triage nurse, I had started acting like a normal young girl with a portion of leg missing- there were tears and whatnot. Dustin was holding my hand, and i was looking away from my leg. I guess he was looking at me leg, because, about half way through the stitches, he passed out. I mean, actually fainted. It was hilarious. All the sudden we're all looking over the side of the bed, figuring out if we need to do something for him. He got up pretty quickly, but the nurses insisted he go into another room. This, of course, was the best thing he could have done in the situation, as the nurses and I were now laughing our asses off, and all anxiety was well gone. I was out of there, with a big bag of complimentary gauze, only about half an hour after seeing the triage nurse.

The Twenty Second Story

While I'm on bicycle accident stories- here's the velveteen rabbit story. A warning- while I think this story is funny & uplifting, there is one gruesome passage. this story takes place rather a while ago, when I first got my first "adult" bike, in Boston. He was a 1960's Peugeot road bike, named Squirrel.

For Yom Kippor, instead of fasting, I decided i was going to go on a very long bike ride, all by myself. I started from Massart, and rode all the way to the end of the minutman trail, and then kept going to that funny little petting zoo/ icecream stand out in new bedford somewhere? I don't know. Then i went swimming at a little lake near Walden Pond. Then I fell asleep. When I woke up, it was dark, and I considered just staying there, but it's not really an isolated location, and I didn't have a well hidden spot, so, I got ready to start home. I had a cheap little plastic flashlight in my bag, but no headlight, so I taped the flashlight onto my handlebars with medical tape. Technically, the bike path is closed after dark, but I didn't know any other way home, so I went back to it and started down it. At the very first road crossing, my flashlight fell off, and was promptly run over by the only car i saw the whole night. Still, things were going well- the moon was out and lit the path in silver, like some sort of magical route that would lead me to the Last Homely House. The only obstructions were ballards. The ballards at that end of the path are formidable- made of cast cement and topped with the sharp remnants of cast bronze bike seats; but the ballards are at street crossings, which are well lit. Except for this one set at a driveway. It turns out that, the way these ballards are spaced, a bike will just about fit between them- but not the rider. So I hit them, and flew through the air for a bit. No doubt, I yelled. Then I laid quietly on the ground, and thought about what hurt. Only two spots- something on my back, and something on my right leg. I felt my back- no big deal, a little raw, probably hit a pedal. I felt my leg. There was a gap. There was definitely no flesh in a place where there should be. And remember- I had no light. So I stood up, rolled my pants down over the spot, picked up my bike and, in the scariest moment of this whole story, knocked on the door of the house whose driveway this was and asked to use the bathroom. They gave me a lecture about proper headlights on a bicycle, which pretty much set me at ease that they were ok people, and let me in. Once in the privacy of their well lit bathroom, I took a look. Sure enough, there was a big chunk of leg missing, and a 1inch by 2 inch section of bone showing, but it was the front of the shin, and wasn't bleeding much at all. Still, I put some gauze over it, and taped it up. I rolled my pants back down, thanked the folks, and walked out. There is a separate, and also very nice, story about my getting a ride, but this one's already too long, so suffice to say that I made it back to the city and got stitched up.

That night, I dreamed that my piece of leg, with bunny ears, was hopping around the trail, free and happy as could be. The image still makes me smile. And while there are many bunnies on that path, and thus I am quite certain it is coincidence, every single time I use that trail, I always see a bunny right at that point on the trail. I like to think the bunny is my liberated chunk of leg.