What a week. Mom and dad are slowly recovering, but still in a lot of pain. They went to the first of what I suspect will be many physiotherapy appointments earlier this week, and are slowly creeping about the apartment. The heating pad is in permanent residence in the living room. I found the twitter account of the guy who hit them and looked at his tweet about it being a bad week for him. I looked at it for a long time, rolled my eyes (perhaps I muttered something under my breath) and resisted the urge to reply.
The insurance machine is busily chugging away on assessing the accident, and there is a rental car for my parents to use, calls with the injury specialists, calls with the adjuster, forms to fax and email, appointments to make with physiotherapists…it’s an odd kind of business for them. I have been making trips to the pharmacy and getting meals (including a lasagna from The Liberated Cook that they liked very much – I couldn’t eat it because of peppers and onions, but they pronounced it good and it was nice to give them a solid meal made from scratch).
Things are slowly returning to a semblance of a routine, which is good. And after all, things could have been so much worse. It’s hard to see my parents in such rough shape, but it’s been heartening to see them slowly recovering. Their small two-door compact car was hit by an SUV making a left turn across their path, so as you can imagine, it was a spectacular crash and they got the brunt of it. Dad had tried to swerve and avoid, but they were still hit. The other driver was given a ticket at the scene; the police officer told me that my parents were not at fault. Unfortunately, not being at fault didn’t do much for them or the car. I keep thinking about that other driver a lot, and wondering if he is even aware how much an upheaval his left turn has caused our family. All for the sake of…what? Getting through the intersection faster? Who knows.
What a week it has been.