Greetings from the ER!

Every once in a while you have to clean out your mailbox.  I found this one and wanted to share it with you.  What follows is an email I sent to some friends and family on July 8, 2001.  It's titled "Greetings from the ER!"
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You're probably thinking, "I know thet ER is the
abbreviation for Emergency Room, but Darren must mean
something else."  Let's see.....

So, compared to my last email, this one has a
different taste to it.  The theme of this weekend was
I really have fun with my family, and being with some
of my friends literally pains me.

I woke up in a coffin.  I could see a light near my
feet and a blue line on the top going the full length
of this thing.  "Darren, are you alright?  We're going
to run a few more tests now." a voice said all around
me.  Where am I?

The weekend began with the arrival of my parents and
grandmothers.  Dinner was nice, the whole family was
sitting around the table and I told my Nantucket Saga
(if you haven't heard about it...where've you been?)
and my aunt several times said to my 9 year old
cousin, "don't you ever do this."  

The kids and I played together until midnight when it
was time to go.  I stopped by the boys at 35 Fanueil
as a few were about to go out.  I joined them for a
few beers at midnight, but sadly we couldn't get into
a club due to a 20year old with us, so we ended up in
a smoke filled bar.  It reeked and I left early. 
Should have just gone home.

Saturday, the family and I have a great time.  Whether
you live in Boston or just visit for a weekend, you
really should take a Duck Tour.  We did this with a
wonderful tour guide named Penny Wise.  Hilarious
guide.  If you are unfamilar with Duck Tours, they are
1940s amphibious trucks that ride around Boston and
then drive into the Charles River.  Be sure to tell
your friends this before boarding, as I learned one
Italian women thought Penny had gone mad when she
drove into the river!

After the touristy Duck Tour, spend the $6.00 and go
to the top of the Prudential.  50 floors up is a great
few.

From there, the family and I walked around a while and
went back to my uncle's where we had a marvelous
dinner of Salmon, babaganoish, veggies, and dessert of
fresh home made flan with freshly cut fruit.  My aunt
is a wonderful chef.

Midnight comes around again and I leave.  Like
Cinderella at midnight running away, I run back to 35
Faneil.  Why don't I ever just go home!

"Hey."

"Hey."  "What's up?"  "Hey" are the responses.

" I want to go for a bike ride." says Dave. "Anyone
game?"

"Let's go."  I borrowed Dan's bike and since Dave was
putting on a helmet, I borrow Matt's helmet.  We ride,
and ride.  Bumps come and go.  Dave suggests riding
near the water the veers to the right as I go to the
left.  
Little do I know, I'm off the bike path now and on the
walking path.  Dave and Brian follow and a short
distance.  I speed up, glancing at the beautiful calm
Charles river to my left.

My bike comes to a sudden and hard stop!  I fly
through the air as the bike flips over.  I'm Superman!
I fall, land on my head (good call with the helmet),
land on my face, shoulder, and arms.  OWWWW!  I'm
Christopher Reeve!  The pain in my face and neck is
like a 1,000 bee stings. The guys rush over.  Brian is
calm. " Just a scratch, Darren."  he says as he reachs
in his pocket, pulls out a cell phone, and dials 911.

Dave's white shirt is off and is folded on my face. 
He's on Storrow Drive trying to flag down a police car. 
Soon an ambulence arrives and my view of ceilings
begins.  I have a view of many ceilings for the next 8
hours.  The people at Beth Israel say, "please don't
let him be drunk." "Bike Accident."  "Oh, good."  (What!?)

I'm on a board and doctors come and go.  Catherine, a cute resident, remains throughout the night.  I
wonder if she's single.  hmmm..  My curiousity stays
there.  X-rays reveal not much, but to be safe Cat scans. 
Dave and Brian come and go.  5 am Brian has to
go home, Dave comes back with my car.  Sees a friend
with a famous alcoholic singer's name and drives this
alcholic home.  Dave's still with me as mom, dad, and
(oh great) grandma comes in at 5am. The Cat scan
doesn't reveal much. I fall asleep for a few minutes
and I wake up.  I'm in a coffin.

"Darren, this is an MRI, we'll be done in 20 minutes."
I really have to pee, but the rhythm of the machine
is quite soothing, until that is the banging of the
radiation and magnetic fields going through  my body
begins.  An hour and a half later they pull me out and
bring me downstairs.  If you look at the ceilings
long enough constellations form.  I saw a man sitting
on a toilet, horses, a cloudy looking
man, and a 50.  Man, this morphine is making my legs
heavy.

5 minutes after I fill a pitcher, a doctor comes in. 
Darren, you're a free man.  Sprains and ugly cuts. 
It's 11am, I bid farewell to the rents and go to bed.

Great weekend.


Comments from friends back then:
DARREN-  Sorry to hear about your accident...I do hope your feeling
better...shall I bring you food or something.   Are you resting...are you
sore...did you get any stitches...????  One thing is for sure, you should be
writing novels...I was at the edge of my seat the whole time.  Please let me
know how you are and if there's anything I can do...

Peace Isabel


Darren,

Thanks for the great email. As if we needed
more reason to think you were the man. Never
bike ride with Brian and Dave--that's like
combining bleach and amonia.

Sean


That was the scariest e-mail I've read in a while.  It was
also one of the most well written.  Very impressive!  If I
had been up there, is there any chance that the sequence of
events that led to your accident would have been different?

Let's talk.  I hope you're ok.
Adam