If you ask around and do a few dives on social media, you’ll find that many of the minor injuries connected to automobiles occur when a passenger decides to 'help' by doing something other than their job, which is to get in the car and sit down.www.guenterschmied.com
If I had to identify the moment when I knew something was wrong, I’d say it was the jarring thud. Jarring thuds are never good, but they are especially not good when they are made by your head. In this case, the jarring thud had been caused by my younger sister who, for some mysterious unfathomable reason, had decided it would be a good idea to celebrate Sunday lunch with our mother by manually closing the lid of my car’s trunk on my head.
I am used to loading my car’s trunk. There is always ample headroom. Her decision to push the trunk’s lid down, however, brought it to head level just as I was moving toward it to load some (damn) recyclable bags. The corner of the trunk lid met the top of my head causing a jarring thud.
Stunned, I reeled backward, more startled than hurt. “You don’t have to do anything, it’s automatic, you just push a button,” I said, as if this was the appropriate time for a tutorial on the workings of a 2021 Mini Cooper Countryman. “You can just get in the car.”
My sister, who does not have a driver’s license and knows nothing about cars, said something about “only moving” the truck’s lid “an inch.” This was quite obviously false. I got in the car and nodded to my family who sat inside the Mini in shocked disbelief. My sister’s apartment was only five minutes away and I was content to chalk it all up to a mishap and get on with the day. The first sign that the jarring thud was more significant than I thought was the blood trickling down the side of my cheek.
Mine was a case of what I’m going to call “passenger-initiated automobile trauma.” My jarring thud was a not unique case. There are no statistics or studies, but if you ask around and do a few dives on social media, you’ll find that many of the minor injuries connected to automobiles occur when a passenger decides to “help” by doing something other than their job, which is to get in the car and sit down. Search “trunk lid” and “head injury” and you’ll find numerous stories about people closing trunk lids they had no business closing. You’ll also hear far worse stories about hands and car doors.
There is an unwritten, unspoken rule when it comes to automobiles: If you are not the driver, don’t touch it. Don’t touch the stereo. Don’t mess with the air conditioning. Don’t open the windows. Not without permission. Oh, and don’t manually bring the trunk lid down on your older brother’s head, the one who is about to give you a lift home.
The job description is simple – you are the passenger – passenge.
By the way, have you ever tried to push down an automatic trunk lid? It’s hard. It takes effort, the kind of strenuous effort that might lead some people to wonder “Am I supposed to be doing this?” Not all people, apparently. Some pioneers persevere and press on until they get a jarring thud and draw pre-Christmas blood.
Here’s a pro tip: If, when you ask your wife to look at whatever is making your head bleed, she examines the wound briefly, suddenly turns away stricken, rallies, says, “You may need to get it looked at,” then starts furiously calling walk-in clinics, it is not a good sign.
It was late Sunday afternoon and nothing was open. For some reason, these sorts of injuries only happen on Sundays, statutory holidays and after 5 p.m. I was completely clear headed. I’ve had concussions and this wasn’t one. So, I drove to our local hospital and went to emergency.
During the Christmas season, we are supposed to spread good cheer. Well, I spread my share. The rest of my day was spent watching medical professionals try not to laugh after I explained the nature of my accident.
To Review:
- Two grown adults – siblings – post-festive Christmas lunch.
- One automobile trunk.
- A burning need to load recyclable bags into an empty trunk.
- A baffling desire to physically close an automatic car trunk, even though no one asked you to and many cars have automatic trunks (it’s not 1994) and you know nothing whatsoever about cars.
- A jarring blood-inducing thud caused by “only one inch” of movement.
The nurse who admitted me swallowed a smile and said “you can get even with your sister when you get home.” Sitting on a hospital gurney separated by a curtain, I listened as the emergency room resident who examined me went over the case with the attending physician.
“Patient was at his car after a Christmas lunch,” she said. “Patient’s sister closed trunk lid on his head causing minor laceration of the scalp. No loss of consciousness, no signs of concussion.” At this point, they both laughed uncontrollably. “Okay,” the physician said, composing herself. “Let’s take a look at it.”
In the end, they glued me up. The laceration, while requiring medical attention, did not warrant staples. I survived my “passenger-initiated automobile trauma” in fair shape. It was the kind of minor injury that rattles you but leaves you feeling grateful. Seeing those who were truly suffering, it was clear that many of the people there would have been delighted to have been in the emergency ward because their sister thought that a trunk lid would make a nice hat, rather than whatever serious ailment had brought them there.
So, I’ll consider myself lucky. I was given some head glue and have one more scar to add to my collection.
Moral of the story? If it’s not your car, leave it alone, stick to being a passenger, oh, and beware of siblings bearing truck lids.