Thursday, 3 February 2011

My youngest son had a car accident on Monday evening on the way home from work. He somehow lost control of the car and it ended up on it's roof, with him hanging upside-down in his seatbelt. He managed to get out, to find that the petrol was pouring out! He phoned the ambulance himself and was taken to our local hospital for X-rays from top to toe. Someone rang us, and I noticed a missed call (the phone handset lights up) but didn't check it because we'd had some insurance company ringing us to try and sell us a policy. So the first we knew about it was when he rang me at 9pm. I was in a state, I can tell you. And it's taken me until today to calm down, only to get all upset again on hearing from youngest son that the garage are going to charge him £350 for recovering the car from the scene of the accident and storing it until Saturday, when it will (hopefully) be removed! As if we haven't had enough upset and worry already.
Poor youngest son has had a bit of whiplash and a sore back and leg. I can't believe his luck at 'walking' away from that, especially after he showed me the pictures of the car that he'd taken on his phone today. It's crushed, especially towards the back and the roof of course, but it must have been a tough little car to protect it's most precious cargo the way that it did. I'm so grateful that he's alive and okay, if rather bruised and battered.
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