Sunday, February 5, 2006
The year of the Fire Dog
Saturday seemed like a fun day. My parents borrowed my sister's car and took Tamara for a ride to my home town, where they live. She had a great time running up and down in that huge house. We live in a 25 square metres flat - one room, a tiny kitchen, an even smaller bathroom, and that's all. She likes to move a lot, so I take her outside whenever I can. Recently it has been terribly cold so I cannot take her out for long, or she must be dressed up so she looks like an astronaut and can barely move, so now she needs space to run around even more than usual. I missed her very much, but at least I got some chance to do some cleaning and I collected pieces of stash from small containers, organized, sorted them into larger boxes and put them into one place, the top of one of the bookshelves. I had just finished when my parents arrived with the half-asleep Tamara. I quickly put her on my breast and DH carefully undressed her while she was already back to sleep and drinking my milk. It seemed like a peaceful night, the perfect ending of a pleasant day.
On Sunday morning my mother called on the phone and her first words were: "don't get too nervous, but Csongor (my sister's son) had a car accident and he's in a hospital". As she tends to exaggerate things, she practicly terrified me. I have called Csongor and my sister and they have corrected the horror story my mom told me so I calmed down quickly. Here's what happened Saturday night:
My nephew and his friend were driving home from the next town when it started to snow. The car had summer tyres and they were driving pretty fast - much faster than allowed, even in dry weather. The car slipped in a curve, the driver got scared and turned the wheel which he should not have done. They slid off the road and ran to a pile of stones with great speed. The stones tossed the car up in the air which spun around twice and then landed on its top. It slid on, destroying a steel fence and finally coming to a halt by hitting a tree. The boys climbed out of the car, covered with blood. They stopped a car that was coming that way and the driver immediately took them into the hospital. My handsome, 18 years old nephew was in terrible pain, his whole right side, from head to toe is full of cuts and bruises. His head suffered most, his face was cut several times, his ears had been slit by the glass shards, the cut on his head has fourteen stitches now - plus a few more in his ears. He developed high fever by Sunday night.
Do I sound like I'm complaining? I am, as the matter of fact, extremely thankful! He lives! His ears may not look like that of a human, but his eardrums were not injured. He had glass shards in his face less than half an inch from his eye, but his vision is unhurt. He will still be able to live a full life once recovered. His scars will just make him more sexy for those women who prefer bad boys. :)
The policeman who examined the remains of the car said that if it weren't for that stonepile, they would have hit the tree with full speed. The metal railing also helped to slow them down. It would have been lethal, as none of them used the safety belt. Also, if it wasn't for that tree, they would have slipped into the small fishing lake beyond the railings and that would have also killed them as it was covered with thick ice and even if they can come out of the car under water, they might not have found the way out from under the ice. Not to mention water temperature.
So yes, I am really thankful that God let him get away with this much. Still, it's not a very promising way to start the Chinese new year, is it?