Just had one of the most scariest experiences of my life tonight... Part 4

yes, i know this is getting a TAD annoying. but it's life right? and trust me i wish this had been over 3 posts ago. soooo.... (or just scoll down and work your way up)

if you haven't read part one... you can find it here.
if you haven't read part two... you can find it here.
if you haven't read part three... you can find it here.

it's like clockwork. not 4:57am, not 5:28am but 5:30am right on the dot.
"Mama? mummmma? dada. daaaa da. mumma? mum? dadda?" you can hear her rocketing around in her crib that is on the other side of our bedroom wall. i am truely blessed with a husband that gets up and brings her to me so that i can breastfeed her for a few minutes. oh and YES i'm still breastfeeding. she lays with us for 20 minutes, i pick her up and put her back in her crib. she fusses for about 10 seconds and falls back asleep. i crawl back into bed already dreading what i know is going to happen. usally i curl back up under the covers or cuddle with Zol and fall back fast asleep, but like the last 5 nights i know i will now lay awake with a racing mind until she awakes again in a few hours. why can't i just let this shit go? why must i obsess about it? all the thoughts going through my head are the EXACT same ones i've had the last few nights at this time. JUST LET IT GO DALYN. ya - sure. right, that would be nice.

i had an appointment with ICBC that morning at 9am. after tossing and turning i got graye up when she called for me again at 7:30am. zol kissed us goodbye at 8 and Graye and I had breakfast and then got dressed. there are good mornings and bad ones and you can only imagine what this day was - a BAD one. i fought clothing, jacket and boots onto her, grabbed a book for her to read and hopped into the car. i checked my wallet to make sure that my renewed licence paper was in my wallet before i pulled away fom the house. i arrived early and parked in stall number 11, waiting for my claims adjuster to arrive. 5 minutes later a mans head appeared out of an office door.

"Mrs. S zilvassy?"
"Yes! that's me!" he came towards me, and i thought - i should shake his had and introduce myself. orrrrrr NOT. there was no hand to shake. there was a three fingered prosthetic metal arm that protruded from his long sleeved shirt. OK so i didn't shake his hand. after introducing myself i gave him a run down of what had happened last Wednesday night. he looked at the van where the damage should have been and asked me to follow him into the interview office... a small box of room.

now as a 17 month old child i can imagine what Graye was thinking. hmmm, what can i get into here?
"WOW MAMA! wow!" she pointed to the back of his computer where 10 or more cables had caught her fancy. for the next 1.5 hours i was fighting her to keep away from them. the interview was painful to say the least. i told him EXACTLY what had happened. he stopped me several times to tell me what i SHOULD have done. after the 3rd interruption i stopped him.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about the way that things happened. i knew from the moment i got out of my van that it was all a mess. but you have to understand that i had no idea why he was chasing me. and when he started screaming at me all of my rational judgement just went out the window. i felt so threatened and scared that i was incapable of making ANY right decisions. calling the police meant that i was going to have to be with this guy until they showed up, however long that would take. in my mind, all i wanted to do was get away from him. so i did what knew would make the situation better - for my own SAFETY. i gave him my licence and phone number and left after i felt it was safe to go."

by now Graye has had it. the adjuster laboriously types my statement with his ONE good hand (one finger typing - gaaa!). Graye at some point trips and cracks her head on a protruding corner of a wall. the screams are almost unbearable. when she calms down i apologize.

"I am SO sorry. i just had no idea the claim would take so long."
"REALLY? you've been accused of a hit and RUN! this is a LEGAL proceeding Mrs. S zilvassy!" i tried to keep calm, but I was getting pretty pissed off at this point.
"OK, i never felt my van getting hit and there is NO evidence of my van being hit. As far as i'm concerned i was DRIVING HOME not leaving the scene of a crime!"

Graye continues to scream...
After an hour and a half he is finally done writing the report with one finger. he prints it out and brings me the copy to read and sign. there are around 10 typos that he has to fix... .... .... waiting waiting for him to come back from the second printing. finally he appears with a copy of the statement for me to take home. he says that i may need to come in for an assessment of both vehicles side by side. Now THIS freaks me out. i do NOT want to see this guy gain and REALLY don't want him to see my van. he said that the guy had called in and though he had not been in yet for an assessment he said that HE had pulled over to let ME pass. i adjusted Graye on my hip and chuckled saying, "ha, well that's pretty funny."

i crammed Graye into her car seat, kicking and screaming at me pushing one of my final buttons. i slammed the sliding door and hopped into the drivers seat. where are my keys? i searched everywhere. the adjusters assistant guy had used them to check the mileage. i ran back the the interview room to tell him my keys weren't there. off he went to find the other guy. i hopped back into the van and pulled my seat belt on and as i clicked the belt in i saw the tip of my key chain wedged way behind my seat. NICE WORK GUYS! the adjuster reappeared and i told him i'd found the keys BEHIND MY SEAT. he said nothing and walked away.

as the big garage door opened i pulled my van out of the bay. my stomach rushed and my heart was pumping again. I was being accused of a hit and run!? bring on the sleepless nights... BRING THEM ON. why does this kind of stuff happen to me!!?

Just had one of the most scariest experiences of my life tonight... Part 3

if you haven't read part one... you can find it here.
if you haven't read part two... you can find it here.

i climbed up the steps and pulled open the screen door. as i put my key in the lock the door was pulled open by zol on the other side.
"Hey." i said, and slipped in, dumping my purse pulling off my shoes and coat at the same time. i followed him out of the coat room and into our living room.
"Did you have a good time? i thought you'd be later..."
"Ya we had a great time." i got a glass of water from the kitchen then came and sat beside him on the couch. i turned to him.
"Um. uhh... something happened while i was driving home tonight."

There is this look that zol can give me that says a shitload of words all at one time. it says this... "OK what the heck have you done? it's bad isn't it? or is it something really stupid? how can i fix it? am i going to have to hurt someone?"

"What?" he says - calmly. i tell him the events of the last 20 minutes. when i mention myself getting out of the car he interrupts with an explosive "WHY THE HELL DID YOU GET OUT OF THE VAN!?" i calmed him down with the fact that i YES i was now aware of my stupidity and then went on with what happened after i got out of the van. he told me what i should have done, and of course he was right... go to a well lit area (gas station) and deal with it there NEXT TIME. he hugs me as i cry out the fear i'd been sucking up from the moment i first jumped out of the van. we climb the stairs to bed and fall to sleep.

5pm the next day. my phone rings DUNCAN W ONG.
IGNORE!
7pm... my phone rings again... DUNCAN W ONG.
IGNORE!
duncan? i thought he said David? he leaves a message with his phone number.

"Hey Daisy, you hit my car last night. call me... 604-...-..."

that entire day my head had been reeling with all kinds of thoughts. i must admit i obsess over alot of things, and this kind of thing takes the CAKE. my brain just would NOT drop it.

that night after Zol got home we went out and looked at the van. nothing. NOTHING on it.

My mother arrived early the next morning from dropping my father off at VGH for and angiogram. my day worsened as we waited 7 hours for the call to pick him up. finally the call came. my mother held her cell phone to her ear, her brow furrowed and jaw tight. she asked a progression of questions that ended with... "NO... oh no. oh my... ...really?" looks like my dad needs a tripled by pass. as my mother hung up the phone her body shrunk within itself, much like one's does when you receive life changing and maybe devastating news. i hugged her and we cried. this was not what either of us had expected for that day.

i called the cops the next day, they told me to call ICBC. so i did. i told them what happened. there was a pause. i heard a keyboard clicking away and then silence.

"Mrs. S zilvassy, are you aware that your drivers licence has been expired since October?" My heart sunk. I had NO IDEA. i know it's "5 years" but in my head i had renewed it 4 years ago. she was very nice and told me what to do, how to get it renewed. she gave me an ICBC claim number so that somebody could look at my van and see that there was not a spec of damage on it...

not 5 minutes later DUNCAN W ONG showed up on my phone. this time i answered.
"Daisy?"
"DAY-LYNN. listen, i've called the police and ICBC."
"YOU CALL ICBC?!"
"Yes i did. when i get the claim number i'll let you know."
"YOU CALL ICBC? THEN I CALL ICBC TOO!"
"OK - go for it. bye!" CLICK... asshole.

at that time i had Graye to distract me and we carried on with our day. later that night when i tried to go to bed I laid awake for hours and hours and hours. the next morning, with only 3 hours of sleep i dragged Graye downstairs and cooked her up some eggs and toast. i sat behind her on a hard chair in the kitchen sipping my coffee watching Dora the Explorer animate across the TV screen. The rest of my day was a blurrrr..... i called Zol and asked him to please pick up a bottle of wine. and he did... thank God.

to be continued AGAIN.

Just had one of the most scariest experiences of my life tonight... Part 2

if you haven't read part one... you can find it here.

there are several different kinds of "your heart was pumping" situations.

1. you've been smoking for a few years and just ran up a big flight of stairs and can barely talk or breath and something inside your chest feels like it's ready to explode.
2. you fall halfway down a flight of stairs and nearly break you neck but catch yourself and only sustain a few choice bruises, but for the next 5 minutes your heart races and your fingers tremble as you take a medicating sip of wine.
3. you watch your child jumping around on the couch and in the process she places a dancing foot into midair - and you are about 2 feet far away to catch her fall. your heart drops as she does to the floor.
4. you've been screamed at by a large intoxicated man in a dark alley - and you have about two seconds before you think he's going to grab some part of your clothing or hair as you are pulling yourself up into your van and trying to slam the door AND lock it at the same time.

i have a feeling number 4 doesn't apply to too many people.

luckily i'm pretty well versed in pulling myself up into my van. it's a 4x4 delica and rides pretty high off the ground with it's extra large snow tyres. somehow i managed to glide my body in and have my finger on the lock at the same time... JUST in time. there he was - a darkened face at my window, screaming at me again.

"GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING DRIVER LICENCE BITCH!!"

i sat there for a few seconds, staring straight ahead, trying to gather my thoughts. what was i going to do? should i just try and gun it again? no - no his car was 10 times faster than mine. i decided i needed to fix the situation.

i must admit - i can definitely get someone riled up, but i also have a pretty good knack at calming somebody down - IF i want to. i'm not sure where i learnt this skill, but i know i have it.

i turned the key in the ignition and pressed the button, rolling down my window 2 inches.

"Hey! hey... look at me. what's your name?" he turned and glared at me.
"David!"
"David? no shit. that's my dads name." his face instantly softened.
"Really? David?"
"Yup, David! crazy hey?" he threw his head back with a slight chuckle. strangely, sometimes i find it easier to deal with someone in a volatile situation when i know they've been drinking.
"So David what are we going to do?"
"Gib me your driber licence."
"Listen i'll write down the number but i'm not GIVING it to you." My fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. usually i can open my purse and whip out my wallet and retrieve said card in 5 seconds, but at this moment it felt as if i had cerebral polisy. not only were my hands shaking but my entire body pulsed in an unnatural way. i scribbled the drivers license number down along with a very 'fudged' version of my name and my phone number. i slipped it out the window into his chubby hand.

"SHOW ME YOUR LICENSE!" i slapped it up against the window. he paused, trying to focus his eyes on a very confusing first and last name.
"OK... .... thank you. i don want no ICBC. OK? i call you and we deal with it between us OK?"
"sure. OK" i said. He reached into his pocket a brought out a pack of smokes. his body weaved on top of his feet as he lit the end of his smoke. his wet lips puckered and took a deep drag, and pulling the cigarette away from his mouth he also inhaled the cold night air. he exhaled a massive amount of smoke and it curled into the 2 inch opening, billowing into my face. his face instantly looked kinder and content.

"Mind if i bum one?" yes - due to the stress i wanted one, but more because as a semi ex smoker i knew this was an easy way to end our dispute. the offering of a smoke at this moment was more like i peace pipe. when the smokes are done you both go your separate ways. I brought the window down another 2 inches and he handed me a cigatrette and lit it for me. there was a minute of silence with only the sound of exhaling in the air.

He pulled out his phone and dialed. instantly there was a rapid amount of Chinese coming from his mouth. Shit... was that Mandarin or Cantonese? the conversation excelled into almost violent yelling.
"HEY!!" i yelled, flicking the half done smoke out the window. "HEY! who are you talking to? HANG UP or i'm out of here!"
He hung up the phone and told me to calm down, saying it was his dad.
"Mandarin or Cantonese?"
"Why the fuck would you care??"
"I lived in Taiwan for 3 years..."
"HAHA!! Dats too bad!" he went on to tell me he where he was from in China, and we talked about my time in Taiwan...

i had the feeling that it was safe to leave.
"Listen David. i've got a baby waiting for me at home. I've really got to go. I'm really sorry about what happened OK, but it's late."
"Ya... .... OK. I call you tomorrow OK?"
"Sure, call me tomorrow." My fingers were still gripped around my now sweaty drivers licence. his body disappeared from the side of my van. i dropped my licence somewhere and found the emergency break. i turned the key and the engine revved. my house was to the left but i took a right. Slowly i crawled away from the scene, my heart pumping in my throat. the rear view mirror found my eyes and relief fell over me when all i saw was darkness behind me. i let the van crawl slowly home.

what-am-i-going-to-tell-zol-what-am-i-going-to-tell-zol-what-am-i-going-to-tell-zol??? i pulled up to the house, grabbed my purse and opened the van door, sliding my body out and onto the ground. our living room lights peeked out from the semi closed curtains.

i stood in the cool nights air. i let my head sink down, where i felt my chest beating against my chin. as i brought my head up i inhaled a deep deep breath, shook my shoulders and headed towards the gate, keys fumbling in my still trebbling hands.

sorry... to be continued... again...