I was going to write part two of Life's Most Embarrassing Moments last week, but on July 14, my car was hit broadside -- "T-boned," as they say -- by an unlicensed guy in a van who ran a red light. The result was a trip by ambulance to the emergency room, a 3-hour wait while being shuffled from room to room to make it seem as though I were making progress when I obviously wasn't, plus some x-rays to make sure my lungs weren't punctured. Then I was sent on my hurtin' way with a few samples of the lovely drug Percocet, plus a prescription for more, to ease the pain of my cracked ribs.

And cracked ribs are PAINFUL, y'all. I never realized how something that sounds so simple could hurt so much. That first night, I didn't sleep at all. Every time I moved: AGONY. The drugs didn't help...nothing helped. I couldn't get comfortable because everything hurt. That, and the fact that one of my new kittens decided for some reason that she needed to be in my face all night long.

Picture me, trying to sleep, opening one eye to see a tiny black kitten face inches from mine, staring at me with wide eyes and purring loudly into my nose. Any other time, ADORABLE. But that night? ARGGHHH!!!

The weekend went by in a blur. A police officer came to our door to ask me some questions and to deliver the accident report. Calls to my insurance company. Calls to friends and relatives, including one to my best friend, a registered nurse, asking her if it was okay to take Advil with the Percocet.

I missed work Monday and Tuesday, and wasn't too alarmed when I ran out of the Percocet on Tuesday morning. I'd called my family doctor as was recommended to me in the ER, but the earliest they could see me was Thursday. So when I ran out of my medication, I called the doctor's office, confident that they would call in a prescription for me.

No dice. "We'll give you more AFTER we see you, if you need it," they said. "If"?? "IF"???? "Take 3 Advil 3 times a day," they added.

I found out from my nurse friend that apparently doctors and emergency rooms alike don't like to give out too many heavy-duty painkillers as a rule because people lie and fake injuries all the time to get the stuff. That's how powerful it is. But I was their patient!! I was in an accident!! I wasn't a drug addict!!

No go.

By that afternoon, I was in so much pain I couldn't move off the sofa. Literally. I was beached there, helpless until someone could come and pull me up...gently. Near tears, I called my other friend, whose husband is a doctor, and asked if she had anything stronger than Advil. Her husband, my hero, brought me samples of Vicodin and wrote a prescription to get me through to Thursday. Otherwise, I'd probably still be on the couch at this very moment.

And on Thursday, when I saw my doctor and told her about the nurse's refusal to give me more Percocet, she said, "Well, they didn't ask ME, because I would have gladly given you more!" Argh!!!

Anyway, I'm slowly recovering...still hurting, though. And I'm told by people who've gone through this that it takes months to heal from cracked ribs. Great.

My car, however, will not heal. It's pretty much totaled. It wasn't a new car, or a great one, by any means, but I liked it and it got me to where I was going. The guy's insurance company is claiming he won't answer the phone, and as long as he doesn't answer, they're not liable for the accident. I'm kind of thinking they're lying about that one. I had to rent a car and pay for it out of my own near-empty pocket, but I'm going to present the bill to his insurance company and they'd better dang well PAY IT.

I'm not so crazy about driving since the accident. The other morning, I had a flashback while sitting at a light, which was both weird and frightening.

Remember what I said in that blog about change not being good?

I was right.