Hello, friends.

Wednesday morning, I was in an accident.

As I was cycling to work, which is my newfound love, and doing my little part for the environment, coincidentally, my front tire met with an ill placed street grate.

The tire caught the grate, and stopped.  Needless to say, (traveling at 20+ mph,) I didn't.  Before I knew it, I was waking up on the pavement.

A few bruises and scrapes were all I could see or feel the moment  I climbed out of the bikelane and onto the curb.

A couple of good natured cyclists pulled up behind me and stopped, asked if I was ok, and I replied, "I'm a little bruised, but I think I might have shattered my pride," in a gasp/chuckle.

But they weren't laughing.  No, they were staring.  At me.  Well... at my knee to be exact.  "Dude.  You're losing a lot of blood." One of them said.

That's when I saw it.  A gaping hole in my jeans, where blood was gushing out of a torn hole.  I carefully sat down on the curb in my newly shredded denim, and they helped me put my knee up, as I began to realize I was in pretty bad shape.  But at least the bleeding stopped with some pressure.

Calling 911, it all became surreal... this was a first.  I've never been in this situation.  I looked down at my scraped up helmet.

"I am one lucky bastard." I thought.

As the Paramedics arrived and strapped me onto a gurney, I took a bumpy ride into the ER, where someone cut my jeans off to reveal the hamburger meat that was once my knee, but otherwise I was, ok.

I mean, breathing.  Alive.  And in good hands.

And honestly, if I hadn't been wearing a helmet, I might not be writing this blog right now (according to the EMT).  But I am, and at the time, I became immediately aware of my good fortune...

So, I was in a ridiculously giddy mood the whole time.

As I joked with the EMTs, one of them offered to take picture of me in the restrictive headgear on our way to the ER, that I could send to my mother and freak her out, (just kidding, I called her and told her I was ok.  haha... I've given that poor woman enough gray hair as it is), so aside from the pain, I was just along for the ride.  :)

Bad jokes met blood pressure gauges, puns and needles, morphine and slapstick, abounded.  Kind of reminded me of a musical I once began to write, but I digress...

A few firsts:
1.  Calling 911 for myself.
2.  Riding in an Ambulance.  (very bumpy, btw.)
3.  Entering an ER with Heath Insurance. (haha... what?  You musicians know what I mean.)
4.  Ripping a Tendon (more on this later)

After arriving at the hospital, meeting some attractive nurses, and some funny doctors, I had some X-Rays which found out I handn't broke anything.  So now, I was in an even better (albeit painful) mood!

(Not to mention my bike had suffered minor damage, considering... which I want to get back on, as soon as possible.)

My morphine induced day kept me in exceptoinally good spirits and I have to give big props to the Doc who sutured my tendon back together as well as my knee... (if you're reading this Doc, you're welcome for the help.  I think 10 stitches on the tendon was the right amount.)

So, If you see me next Friday night at the Fat Cat with a crutch/cane/limp, belting out some new songs, you'll know why  (well, you'll know why I'm limping.)  And hopefully this will save me telling the story another 100 times, haha.

Like I said, I'm down... but not out.

Thanks to all of you strangers, friends, lovers and mentors for your support.

Getting back on the stage on Friday is going to mean a lot, and I hope to see all of you that I miss so much.

Things to take from this blog:
1.  Life can end quickly, even if you take all the precausionary measures.
2.  Wear an effin helmet, douchebag.  Your family loves you, even if they have to put up with you being such a hipster.
3.  Make this moment count.  Go hug somebody.

See you Friday.

(p.s.  I know I've been promoting the heck out of this Friday's show, but on a real note, if you think you're going, please send me an email and save yourself some money on a half price ticket, ok?)

~Roem