Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; His love endures forever.
1 Chronicles 16:34
Ice skating with Davey’s slicks for skates does not work.
Riding from Marlborough to Fitchburg on Route 117, I suddenly found myself not pedaling but sliding on my right side down the road, sliding a prodigious distance across a patch of ice masquerading as wet water. Because God is gracious, the driver behind me was following slowly and with lots of room, so he was able to stop. He and a bunch of strangers immediately rushed to my aid, forcing me to stay not move, wrapping me in blankets, and calling 911. People kept talking to me, asking if I was still awake, asking my name, asking the date and who the President was. I started feeling very cold as I lay there on the ice, even wrapped in blankets and jackets. After what felt like an age, an ambulance came and they wrapped my neck in a brace, lifted me up onto a stretcher using this interesting plastic contraption that slid under me on the ground. They asked a bunch of questions too, about my name, age, who I wanted to contact, what hurt, what hospital I wanted to go to. Finally we got to the Clinton Hospital*, where they wrapped me in blankets — I was shivering violently from the prolonged laying on ice combined with my sweat cooling and evaporating — and eventually took me for X-rays to check my neck. They determined my neck was fine, released me from the uncomfortable brace, and sent Ian in to see me. We waited a little while, and a very nice doctor came by, moved my arms and legs, and told me I was lucky. Nothing broken. He prescribed Tylenol for swelling and ice for bruises and sent me and Ian on our way. We stopped at the Lancaster Police Department to retrieve my bike. Finally I got home, my head still dizzy and painful from whacking the ground so hard. I took a hot bath and went to bed.