Note to self: No, you CAN'T lift a Harley

I thought I was going to be late to work this morning due to road construction.  However, that's not what made me late.

Traffic made it through that just fine, only to come to a literal screeching halt.  The driver of the silver SUV in front of me must not have felt he could stop in time because one minute he was there, and the next he was in the slow lane.  I thought for sure I was going to cream the CRV that was now leading the pack - my anti-lock brakes locked, my tires squealed, my purse and lunch kit went flying into the wheel well, and my whole body tensed.

The lady jumped out of the CRV and flew down the highway.  I got out to see what was going on.  When I got around her truck, I saw a motorcycle glove and pair of sunglasses right in front of her bumper.  For a split second, I thought the driver was underneath the truck.  My whole body went numb until my eyes caught site of the motorcycle up ahead lying on its side.  The gentleman I'd seen riding it earlier was stumbling around.

Apparently a Cavalier pulled in front of him; the CRV lady didn't think the other woman had cut the biker off, but she said it was definitely close.  The guy braked hard and the bike went down.  He slid along the road long enough that the bottom of his back pocket was completely chewed away by the pavement, leaving his wallet dangling.  He had a small gash on his forehead (that was bleeding like crazy, of course), and was complaining of shoulder pain (I'm assuming it took the weight of him and the bike in the fall), but insisted he was okay.

Another SUV going eastbound stopped on the opposite side of the meridian; I later learned that at least one of the occupants was a police office.  The lady in that SUV took off her sweater to cover the gent, then asked if anyone had a blanket - I ran back to the car, thankful that I've been too lazy to take it in the house.  She then went up to talk to the driver of the Cavalier who was absolutely hysterical.

The gentleman was worried about his bike and asked that someone move it out of the road - he was worried about the damage because the poor guy had just had a custom paint job done.  The guy driving the silver SUV that had been in front of me went and grabbed the handle bars, then asked for help.  I didn't even think about the fact that my back has been giving me pain for the past week and that I'm waiting on an appointment with my chiropractor: I grabbed the back end of the Harley and hefted it up.  As we tried to roll it over to the shoulder, my foot slipped in a puddle of oil? gas? a combination of the two?  I could still smell it once I got to work.

A fire truck showed up within minutes (we weren't far from a station) followed very quickly by an ambulance and RCMP officers.  The gentleman was in good spirits and got up off the ground and onto the stretcher on his own steam.  At that point, I gave the police office my name and phone number (no statement since I hadn't really seen anything) and headed back to my car.

I held it together until I was past the accident scene, then broke down sobbing.  The harder I cried, the more I beat myself up.  I felt ridiculous!  An emergency happens, and all I can do is shake like a leaf and CRY?  Seriously?  I hate that my natural reaction to 99% of LIFE is to cry.  Hate it hard.

I was at work for maybe an hour before giving up and going home - I was in so much pain, I could hardly breathe.  Chebbar ended up coming home at lunch and took me to the walk-in clinic.  The doctor told me to take the rest of the day and tomorrow off and prescribed a muscle relaxant.  He also told me to call ICBC because, even though I wasn't part of the accident, I was injured at the scene of the accident.  Now I have to call the RCMP to see if I can get the case number.  I called my boss, but his phone died halfway through the conversation, so of course now I'm doing the whole he's-pissed-I'm-missing-ANOTHER-day-of-work guilt thing.  Pppbbblllttt.