Glad to be alive

I am so glad to be alive.

As I was thrown off the motorbike, the first thought that crossed my mind was, “Oh shit.”

In the few seconds that followed, I felt like a human rag doll. Helpless in my predicament, I was certain this was going to be the end of me.

I didn’t have time to contemplate anything, not even death. The force of the collision hurled me across the road before I landed in an open drain by the roadside.

There was no dramatic moment where my entire life flashed before my eyes.

Only a quiet acknowledgement and resignation of what I thought was about to come.

It was a complete and utter shit of a situation.

The wind was knocked out of me when I landed in the drain. I remember an immense pain ricocheting through my body as I lay curled up in a foetal position on the muddy ground of the concrete ditch. Above me was the evening sky, painted in beautiful hues with scattered white clouds.

The next few moments passed in a blur.

Locals gathered around, and a couple of them came over to check on me, asking questions in Balinese that I couldn’t understand. I remember feeling pain shoot through my body as they carefully tried to move me. My shirt was soaked in blood from the deep wounds on my hip. My legs were covered in blood too.

Slowly, and very painfully, they lifted me out of the drain and placed me onto the back of a pickup truck, presumably belonging to one of the kind locals. In broken English, someone told me I was being taken to the hospital.

I whispered a quiet “thank you” to the man.

A tear finally escaped from the corner of my eye.

I was thankful to be alive.

And thankful to the strangers who didn’t hesitate to come to my aid.

To cut a long story short, I arrived at the A&E of a private hospital looking like something straight out of ER, complete with a stretcher, blood and all.

Because of the language barrier and the fact that I didn’t have my insurance documents on me (although I was insured), it took more than ten hours after I arrived before I was finally wheeled into the operating theatre.

The emotional climax came the next day when my worried parents arrived to find me bruised from head to toe, but thankfully stitched back together. Despite the severity of the accident, I had escaped with only flesh wounds. No broken bones. No internal bleeding.

Two days later, at my parents’ insistence, I was flown back to Singapore for further assessment and treatment.

Never would I have imagined myself going through something like this, yet here I am, with the scars to prove it.

I’ve always tried to live each day as though it were my last, but this close encounter with death has taken that philosophy to an entirely different level.

Should I be more afraid to venture out into the world again because of this accident?

I don’t think so.

Trauma? Not if I can help it.

Ugly scars?

Just new stories to tell.

There were many lessons to take away from this experience. My faith in humanity was certainly restored by all the kind Samaritans who rushed to my rescue.

But fear was definitely not one of those lessons.

If anything, the accident has given me even more courage to venture further and to live life more fully than ever before.

After all, as Kelly Clarkson once sang, “What doesn’t kill you (literally) makes you stronger.”

So here’s to a richer life, richer experiences, and many more adventures ahead.

And might I add…

I can’t wait to get back on the road again.

Pun intended.