Do Miracles Really Happen?

Like a Thief of the Night

December 17, Thursday, I was cruising my bike at Kauswagan Hiway at around past 10 in the evening. Earlier, I came from a video shoot then accompanied my grandmother to a wake and hurriedly went straight to attend the “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” premiere which I wouldn’t miss for the world.

As I passed by Save More Kauswagan, a white van passed by my left side with a sign at its back that says “With God, Everything is possible.” (I shall dedicate an article about “signs” next time) I said, “Yes, Lord. That message is for me!” and immediately, this prompted me to pray which I always do. You see, whenever I ride my bike alone, I always see it as an opportunity to pray or think of ideas for just about anything.

And so I was thanking God for everything that happened during that day, the opportunities He has given me in the past weeks and suddenly, before I could say anything else, my prayer was interrupted by a big crashing sound.

I remembered at that moment that I heard a woman scream. I remembered that I was helplessly spinning around. I remembered that I landed face down and that my body was dragged on the street. My helmet was separated from my head. I see headlights from behind me. That was the moment that I realized that I had an accident.

Recalling the exact accounts of that moment, I realized that a careening car bumped the back part of my motorcycle and which I was thrown off and hit the car that hit me.

Out of desperation, I “instinctively” uttered the only words that would ever make sense at that moment – “Jesus Christ!” After a few short seconds, I landed face down.

As I was lying there on the concrete, hearing all the other pedestrians and passengers around me, I looked up and saw my bike still running away from me. A few meters from where I was, my bike finally fell on the ground. I saw the car that hit me. It was a red car with no trunk at the back, like that of a “Honda Fit”. To everybody’s amazement including mine, I stood up from where I was, spitting out the dirt and sand from my mouth. I looked around and saw the broken pieces of my bike’s rear. My first concern at that moment was “My bike is ruined” and “Have I suffered a concussion?”

I stood there in the middle of the street in shock, like everyone else who was there. I looked at the car that hit me. It stopped in front of a second-hand car wheel shop in front of the Gaisano warehouse. I looked at it, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, the car ran off.

I picked my helmet and stationed myself on the side of the street. A young couple in a white sedan stopped in front of me. The woman on the passenger’s side repeatedly asked if I was okay. “I guess so.” were the only words I could utter.

I walked a few meters to where my ruined motorcycle was. It fell on its right side. I sat on the gutter beside it - stared at it. Some people came to me and said that some people are on pursuit of the runaway vehicle. It was the last of my concern.

A few minutes later, a man in a black pickup parked in front of me and went down. He introduced himself as BOY DABA. He said he saw me “fly” and hit the ground. He thought I was dead. I thought, “Yeah, I thought I was dead.”

Mr. Daba shook my hand in relief and told me he ran after the vehicle and managed to get the license plate and gave it to me. 3 people on a motorcycle went up to me and said that the runaway car bumped into another victim as it escapes to the small road going to Scions. Mr. Daba then offered me a ride to the police station. I told him I would rather go to the nearest hospital and have myself checked for any concussions. He offered me a ride to Polymedic Plaza. We talked about how he saw the whole thing. I was still in shock. I asked him for water. He gave me almost a liter full of mineral water from the back of his pickup.

I thanked him again as I arrived at the hospital sat down in the emergency room. That is where everything sank in. How could I have survived that horrible crash?

Not so emergency room

After 30 minutes or so in the emergency room, alone, trembling in shock, I was finally attended to. The reason for the delay was there were three emergency cases aside from myself who were more critical that time.

My friends and my mom came and I was already connected to a heart monitoring device which is so convenient for them for if my heart stops, the thing will beep. Cool.

A pretty nurse checked my vitals and asked me if I am allergic to anything. “Marriage!” I thought, as I shook my head.

After my wounds were treated and my body X-rayed, I was finally stationed to my semi-private room with another patient.

Not, Not, Knocking on Heaven’s Door

My Doctor, who has an overpriced PF (I asked for a specific doctor but to no avail), told me that I didn’t have any fractured bones. Aside from some minor scratches, I did not acquire any single broken bone in my body. Not even on my pinky finger. The patient beside me, a 10-year-old boy, survived a 50,000 volt shock after climbing a cepalco post. I kiddingly said to him, “Di pa nato panahon Dong ba?” (It isn’t our time yet, right kid?)