Today as we were driving home from some errands we came upon a traffic snarl and at the center of it, a young kid laying prone on the left hand shoulder of the road, motorcycle helmet next to him, people on the roadway around him slowing traffic and peering around for help to arrive.
Naturally we could not pass by, for we are nurses, and busybodies, and no help had arrived as yet beyond the passers-by. Someone had propped the young man’s feet up under a rolled-up blanket or something. His shoes were fifty feet back on the left shoulder, his motorcycle a hundred feet or more ahead in the brush off the right shoulder, completely out of sight. The lovely Rhonda checked his airway — he was conscious, speaking, saying his legs hurt. No wonder. His left ankle was badly broken and deformed, and his right pantleg shredded from the knee down, the knee badly broken as well.
No one’s legs should ever look that way. This kid’s life has changed forever.
Presently a police car arrives and the cop pulls on gloves, chides the young man: Well that’s what you get for going so fast. We’ve been trying to stop you since Stapleton Road. To us: He was in the triple digits passing us. We were told he had some other guys on bikes with him but they had sped off when he bit it.
A moment later the ambulance arrives, and they begin to treat the young man. At this point we moved along.
Yes, he asked for it, hotrodding like that on what was most likely a crotchrocket type bike. But I doubt he really realized what could happen to him.
Poor stupid kid.