I carefully turned my head from left to right, trying to decide which way to go. From what little I could see, neither way looked promising. I didn’t have the time or energy to consider my options and formulate a well thought out plan. Instead, I went with my gut instinct and turned right onto the road.
I still couldn’t see shit, but it was much easier to walk on the paved road versus the dirt path I’d just been on. Still, there were so many times I wanted to give up and let the pain consume me. Sometimes it was so intense I thought my head was going to explode. And part of me wanted it to so I could get some relief. My chest felt like it was on fire, but it was nothing compared to my head.
Somewhere along the way, I started counting. Each time I made it to ten, it was like a little victory. Then, I’d start over again and focus on making it to ten. It was the only way I could make myself keep going. “Just make it to ten,” I told myself over and over again.
I’d just finished another count when I saw something in the distance. It was hard to make out, and there was a chance my eyes were playing tricks on me, but it looked like there was a clearing up ahead.
I tried not to get my hopes up, but as I got closer, I could clearly see a building and an intersection.
Picking up the pace as much as I could, I finally stumbled into the empty parking lot of a gas station that had seen better days. However, my relief was short-lived when I peeked through the front door. The shelves were bare, and it looked like the place hadn’t been open for quite some time. Even though I’d reached some sort of civilization, I was still alone with no way to call for help.
I considered huddling in the doorway and waiting until morning to continue, but the relentless pain in my head made the decision for me. Whatever was going on with my head was bad, and I needed to get to a hospital sooner rather than later. So, I forced myself to continue walking, and counting, vowing to keep going until I absolutely couldn’t.
I wanted to cry when my eyes landed on a highway overpass in the distance. It didn’t matter that I was in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night, there would be cars on the highway. There had to be. That thought was enough to push me forward for what I hoped would be the last leg of my journey. I’d already suffered through hours of hell. Surely, I could hang in there long enough for someone to pass by.
I didn’t bother looking at the signs or trying to decide which would be the best way to go. I turned onto the ramp closest to me and made my way to the highway.
I hadn’t given much thought as to who would come to my rescue, and suddenly I wished I had. I assumed it would be a nice family in a minivan, or maybe even a police officer. What I didn’t expect was for a gruff man on a motorcycle to pull up beside me and shut off his engine.
He remained seated on his bike and studied me for a few moments. “You okay?” he asked, even though it was obvious I wasn’t.
“N-no, I’m not,” I stammered, finding it hard to speak. “I’m hurt and need to go to the hospital.”
“I can take you. Do you think you can ride?”
“I-I, um,” I started. I didn’t know if I could ride or not. I was barely able to stand at that point.
“How about I call for an ambulance to come get you?” he suggested.
“Yes, please,” I said as tears began to stream down my face. “Thank you.”
While he made the call, I carefully lowered myself to the gravel and cradled my head in my hands. Moments later, something warm was draped around my shoulders. I opened my eyes to see he’d wrapped his leather jacket around me.
“Thank you,” I said again. “I’m so cold.”
He nodded in acknowledgment. “You’re going to be okay. The ambulance is on the way.”
When I didn’t respond, he cleared his throat. “The lady on the phone told me I should keep you talking,” he said and gestured to me with his hand. “Since you have a head injury.”
“How’d you know that?” I asked, slightly confused. Had I told him about my head?
“Uh, the dried blood on your face was my first clue.”
“Oh,” I said, somewhat surprised. It hadn’t occurred to me that I might be bleeding. I raised my hand and carefully ran my fingers over my forehead. “I didn’t realize I was bleeding.”
“Can I ask what happened to you?”
“I don’t know,” I confessed. “I woke up out there somewhere,” I said and gestured behind me, “but I can’t remember anything.”
“That’s okay,” he soothed. “Let’s just worry about getting you to the hospital.”
“Thank you for stopping. I don’t know how long I’ve been out here, but I don’t think I would’ve been able to keep going much longer.”
“I hate to say it, but you’re probably right about that. Looks like you’re in pretty rough shape.”
“It certainly feels like it. My head has never hurt this bad before.”
“It shouldn’t be too much longer before the ambulance gets here, and you can get some relief.”