The Tuesday that wasn't the best ever...

Some of you may or may not be friends with my dad on Facebook. For those of you who aren't, all you're missing out on is post after post of training updates. That's what my Dad does: he trains for triathlons. Which means he does a lot of running, swimming and biking.

Tuesday about two weeks ago I was standing in Target debating what chocolate to buy for my visiting teacher. My phone rings, and from the ringtone, I can tell it is a family member. (all immediate family members get Robert Earl keen's "Merry Christmas from the family" as their distinctive ringtone. It's very effective in rushing to the phone or screening a call.) I pick up the phone expecting to hear my father's voice.

But it's not my dad. It's a woman's voice.

"Hi Jessica, you don't know me but I am with your father and he has been in a bike accident."





Our family friend Kazuyoshi got my dad a road ID for christmas. Its this little wristband with my dad's name, and three contacts of people he knows. We never thought we would ever need to use it. We were wrong.

In the less than a minute phone call, the woman tells me where my dad's accident is, and that they have called 911, EMS is on the way and that I should go straight to the hospital downtown that specializes in Trauma. All I can say is ok. One of the last things she tells me, is that, "He is still with us."

I power walk through target and when my feet hit the parking lot, I break into a run.

While driving faster than I have ever driven in Austin, I also manage to dial and speak with no less than 3 family members and a home teacher. After I get off the phone and have at least 20 minutes left to the hospital (which I made it to in 10 FYI), I pray like crazy. I do not want my Dad to die.




You see, for having a world-famous cycling athlete call Austin home, and for having some really great roads on which both professionals and amateur enthusiast cyclists can train, Austin's culture and road works are actually not that biker friendly. People in cars drive like they own every inch of asphalt. New and renovated roads are built without shoulders. I've witnessed people clip bikers and keep driving like they did nothing. Sadly, many bikers die every year in Austin from traffic accidents-- and to help bring awareness to how many people lose their lives on Austin's streets-- the ghost bike campaign was set up. White bicycles are set up at sites where people lost their lives while cycling in Austin. My stomach churns every time I see a ghost bike around town. As I'm driving, all I can think about is if Austin will have to add another ghost bike.





Once I get to the hospital though, correct information is dispersed and I can breathe easier: Dad was injured, but not fatally. He doesn't have a head or spine injury. Just maybe some broken bones.

Make that 9 broken ribs, a punctured lung and some serious road rash: (WARNING: really graphic photos below)








Dad thinks he hit something, or something hit him: either way it sent him flying superman style, into the air. He had enough time to roll and brace himself and he landed flush on his right side and slid a few feet. Although there was literally no one to witness and call in the accident (the woman who called me, found my dad on the side of the road 10-15 minutes later), after driving by the site several times, I have no doubt he was hit by a car. It makes me angry enough to start a campaign in Austin with red bikes for every serious injury caused by a bike and car interaction.











A week, some serious meds, and some amazing drug-induced quotes later my Dad was able to come home. I'm so happy that he's doing so well, and that he's here with us.