The Pivot - #5 - Help Me Find Kate: The Angel Who Stayed Until Paramedics Arrived

Gemini-generated image of a woman helping another woman after an accident. This is not the position I was in after my accident, nor was I able to get a good look at Kate. I just remember her kind voice, great sense of humor, light hair, and that she held my hand until help arrived.

Nearly four years ago, I had a bike accident. It was silly, really. I was trying to return my ex-mother-in-law’s bike (she is like a second mother to me) after getting heatstroke while riding up a mountain with her boyfriend. Montreal is funny that way; sometimes summer days don’t feel as hot as you’d expect until the humidity knocks the ever-loving sanity out of you. Her boyfriend didn't really seem to be affected, but when she reached the top of the mountain to join us for a concert, she looked...ragged. Poor woman. Thank God for the air conditioning in the venue.

After the show, I suggested I follow her boyfriend back to their house on her bike while she caught a ride in a family member’s car. As an experienced cyclist, I was comfortable with the arrangement. I remember very clearly adjusting her helmet to fit my big head and thinking to myself It’s so important to wear a helmet, even though I obviously won’t need it.

Mmhmmm.

Super important side note:

On this day, the cell towers in our region were down. The massive Rogers Communications network outage on July 8, 2022, was a nationwide, 26-hour event that left approximately 12 million Canadians without wireless, internet, or home phone services. Funnily enough, I also remember (very clearly) hearing the announcement earlier that morning on the radio and thinking "Boy, that’s going to suck for anyone needing an ambulance."

I hate when I’m right, sometimes.

To make the events in this story even more hilarious (sarcasm intended), the bike I was returning was brand-spankin’ new. It was a beautiful navy blue cruiser, but the minute I hopped on, I knew I was in for an experience. The center of gravity on this thing was so freakin’ high! I felt like the Wicked Witch of the West - and here I was used to my road bike—lower center of gravity, chest practically glued to the crotch-crusher that joins the seat to just under the handlebars.

This was not that.

I struggled to keep pace with my ex-stepfather-in-law (say that ten times fast) as he rode downhill. I tried my best but found myself braking often and swerving to avoid Montreal’s famous potholes. Man, these breaks are so sensitive! Be careful, Jaren. Add to that, the fact that the evening was growing darker, making them more difficult to see.

And then I hit one. Or maybe it was gravel; it’s still up for debate. Regardless, I flew over the front of the bike.

Now…I tried to catch myself. I really did. But imagine trying to catch yourself falling forward onto a treadmill going 15 miles an hour. Both hands were immediately swept behind my body from the sheer momentum. My face caught the brunt of the impact only after my helmet did (the foam was grazed down—thank God I was wearing it), and an overwhelming pain shot through my jaw. I used my tongue to check if my teeth were still there. Imagine my shock when I realized they were all intact even thought I was certain I’d broken my jaw. (I didn't, but it took two full weeks before I was able to open my mouth enough to eat regular food.)

Then, blood started pooling on the ground in front of my face, inhibiting my vision. I knew facial wounds were "bleeders," so I tried not to panic, but I couldn't lift my head to assess what was going on because a shooting pain in my lower back kept me pinned to the asphalt. And then came the familiar voice of my ex-step-father-in-law when he realized I’d taken a tumble.

“Oh no, Jaren!”

I’ll never forget the worry in his voice.

There I was, in the middle of the street, feeling all kinds of broken, but I knew that even if I wasn’t, it was wiser to stay completely still until paramedics could give me the all clear. 

And that’s when Kate arrived.

Well, technically, her daughter had jumped out of their vehicle first to check if I was alive and okay. Only a moment later, Kate showed up. Then a few moments after that, I was covered with a blanket. It was warm, so I didn’t understand how it would help at first, but as the shock started to take over, I was thankful for the cover.

Remember how I told you the cell towers were down? Apparently, people had to knock on doors in the neighborhood to find someone with a landline from a different provider just to call 911. It took 45 minutes for first responders to show up. When you’re in that much pain, every minute feels like a lifetime.

Thank God for Kate. 

Here is what I know about Kate:

• She had light grey or white hair (a literal angel).

• She and her family were visiting from Toronto and had taken a wrong turn onto the street where I crashed.

• Like a true mom, she was prepared. She had an emergency blanket in her car (I now carry one in my own kit).

• She had worked as a midwife during her career. We talked about that because I love midwives with all my heart. We also talked about nursing, because I remember bragging about my mom, a nurse.

• She lay on the ground in the middle of the street, inches from my face, and held my hand the entire time. (Special thanks to the people directing traffic so we didn't get run over!)

• When I told her the pain was becoming unbearable, she suggested I shout the "F-word." It made me laugh, even though laughing hurt. And boy, did I yell it.

• She kept me calm. She kept me sane. I held onto her words and the sound of her voice.

• When the firemen arrived, she made sure to tell me I would find one of them particularly attractive because he was tall, hot, and rocking a man bun. Mmmm. I love me some Tristan in Legends of the Fall.

When paramedics finally loaded me into the ambulance, I called her over to say goodbye. I could still barely see her face, but I remember saying: “Kate, I know we don’t know each other, but I love you. I really, really love you.” And it was true. To be so dependent on someone when you're used to being the one your entire world depends on, is a great lesson in surrender.

When the doors closed, I cried from the mix of appreciation and pain.

---

The Aftermath

I had broken my sacrum and my nose, and split my chin wide open. Months later, after additional testing, it was confirmed that I had also broken my elbow and likely my shoulder and wrist, though they were just fractures that needed time to heal. The back pain was so dominant that it took me a while to realize the damage done to my right arm. I learned it was called delayed pain perception. 

Six months passed before I could fully straighten my elbow, and nearly two years for the pain in my shoulder to resolve. Almost four years later, I’m still working on my wrist strength.

And the bike? Not a scratch.

Anywhoozle. I really hope Kate finds this post and reaches out to me here. I have so much to tell her: I’m in nursing school; I want to helps others the way she helped me; I believe in humanity and kindness again...you know, little stuff.

So if you know Kate, please let her know I'm looking for her.

Thank you for reading and I’ll keep you posted if I ever hear from her!

-Jaren