The ride, itself, is a story for another day. But, it had left me in a mess. I was bleeding from some pretty deep cuts (and road rash), I had a concussion, and my right thumb was dislocated. Luckily, I hadn't ridden alone, that day, so I was able to get home from Colorado Springs to our house in Elizabeth, with Bill driving.
Bill walked in with me, made sure Val was there, then hit the road as quickly as possible. I think he was afraid that Val was going to kill him for bringing me home in such sorry shape.
"Are you okay?" Val asked.
"I think I need to go to the doctor," I said.
At that point, two things caused Val to panic. One: I never wanted to go to the doctor. Two: I was apparently slurring my words pretty badly, as a result of the blow I had taken to the head.
So, Val got on the phone and called the emergency number on our insurance card. It was 7:00 PM, and she wasn't sure which Emergency Room we should go to.
I heard her go through the basic information; name, insurance account number, nature of injury, etc.
Then she paused and said, "What do you mean, 'Where am I calling from?' I'm in my dining room!"
Obviously, the lady wanted to know what area of the county we were in, so that she could send us to the closest E.R., but Val was a little panicky, at that point.
Even through the haze of the head injury and the pain of everything else, I got a little chuckle from her reply.