Sunday, September 16, 2012

You Should See The Other Guy


Yesterday, I got one of the worst phone calls of my life.


My mom called me mid-afternoon and said the following:


"Your dad wrecked his motorcycle and is hurt but I don't have any other information."



Um, ok. Thanks for the call.



It was really short as she was making her way down the list of children (I have 5 siblings) and she said she would call back when she had more information.


I was doing home inspections when she called and was sitting in my car in front of a home filling out the inspection report. Thankfully, I only had one more home to inspect, so I didn't have to hold off the meltdown for very long.


I hate motorcycles. I know that they're fun and exciting and all that, but they terrify me. And I hate that all 3 males in my immediate family eat, drink and breathe Harley Davidson. I mean, birthday and Christmas gifts pretty much take care of themselves because they love everything Harley, but the costs far outweigh the benefits. 


Motorcycles freak me out and I'm definitely not ready to live without my dad - or my brothers (not that I ever plan to be).


As I was driving home after my last inspection, I let myself freak out a little, but never really got super upset. I mean, when is a motorcycle accident no big deal? Hardly ever, but I felt pretty calm and just knew deep down that he'd be okay.


My mom called me back a little while later and said that Dad was taken by ambulance to the hospital in Boise. He had been on his way to my uncle's house to hang out with him and ride motorcycles when he wrecked. My mom was at home which is 2.5 hours away from Boise and she was really sick with a cold so wasn't having the best day anyway. She was packing up to head to Boise and I headed home to do the same.


She told me to hold off before leaving for Idaho because she had actually spoken to him and he was pretty banged up, but - thankfully - it was nothing too serious. He was taken to the ER where he had a CAT scan and an MRI on his head and upper body. Miraculously, aside from a concussion, some pretty serious road rash and a few enormous bruises, he was fine.


A definite miracle because his bike is a total loss.


When I finally got to talk to him, in typical Owen fashion, he was like, "It's no big deal! I'm fine!" When I told him that I'm super glad that his bike is totaled and that I hope it ends his infatuation with this dangerous hobby, he just laughed and said, "Well, the insurance money will be a nice down payment for a new bike."


Awesome.



This is what my dad looks like on a normal day (one that doesn't involve crashing into a fence):

(not the best photo, but it's the most recent I have)

And, here's what the Harley looked like in better days:


And, here are some photos of the aftermath...

(He looks so tired and beat up. Poor guy!)


(He got this huge bruise with a helmet. So crazy!!)

 (This is today's shiner. I think he's pretty proud of it.)


My dad is one tough guy. I am so, so thankful he's okay. It was such scary news to receive, but such a great outcome. I just talked to him and he said that he's not even that sore today.



My dad could totally beat up your dad!

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