The Elf Herself writes:
We were tooling along in the beautiful Pacific Coast Redwoods area, when we saw a lot of people gazing at a herd of elk on the opposite side of the road. Papa Elf stopped, looked both ways, then proceeded to do a U-turn, when out of seemingly nowhere, a car came barreling down on us. I was blissfully unaware, having my eyes constantly on the elk herd. I heard a long tire skid (thought it was us, but it was the other guys,) then the next thing I knew, we were stopped. There was a fairly large group of people talking, pointing, excited, a fire truck, an ambulance, and two highway patrolmen. Papa Elf got out of the car (confused and contused,) and was talking to the highway patrolmen. I unlatched my seat belt, then tried to open the door, which was jammed. So I sat. After awhile I noticed blood splattered on the roof's headliner, then a few drops on the dashboard. "Where on earth did THAT come from," I wondered. "Is Papa Elf hurt?!" Soon the outdoor conversation switched to "collision," "other people in the car," "his wife," etc., none of which made sense to me. "Was there a collision? Is that why our windshield is shattered?" I thought. It was rather dream-like, with people talking outside, but with silence on my part. Finally, the firemen tried to open my door. There was a loud crash, and the window shattered under the fireman's axe. Somebody ripped the door off its hinges (Jaws of Life? I don't know.) I was taken to the hospital emergency ward in the ambulance. Papa Elf stayed with the highway patrolmen. He later was taken (by the patrolman) to the emergency ward, just as they were suturing my scalp. I was admitted to the hospital proper as Papa Elf was being checked over, x-rayed, then pronounced bruised and slightly lacerated, but otherwise unharmed. He rented a motel room nearby, then was taken to the airport by the same patrolman, where he rented a car. After collecting all our gear from the wreck, he stowed it in the motel room, then came to me in the hospital. I was held until TUESDAY, not Wednesday as I had said before.
I saw my own primary care doctor this morning, who told me to come back next week to have my stitches removed. He told me I was basically okay, albeit in a world of hurt.
Again, I love you all and think of you often, even though I can't contribute much beyond the occasional keg of beer. I'm afraid even that's a little beyond me at this point.