On the evening of May 31, I rode my bike down State Street, through the green light onto the Casco Bay Bridge, and crashed to the pavement. Though disoriented, I worried about cars coming up behind me.

I heard none. Only voices. Kind, concerned people whose names I don’t know or can’t remember. A 2DineIn driver came to me immediately. He would help me get to the side of the road. A woman with curly hair told me that 911 was on the way. A nurse showed up and asked questions about my condition. A doctor appeared. He crouched down, looked me in the eyes and assessed to ensure scarier things weren’t happening. He asked my name and called me by it several times. He wore a name tag. I don’t know what it said. They all stayed with me until the ambulance came.

The drivers were kind and professional, keeping me informed during the trip. “Your vitals look good.” (Whew.) “There are bumps ahead that are going to cause your shoulder to hurt.” (Ouch.) At Maine Medical Center, I was moved through a parade of professionals. Administrators, doctors, nurses, techs.

All were clear, concerned and caring. They affirmed my pain and attended to me. They were empathetic when telling me no bones were broken. They were happy when my dislocated shoulder popped back in. The pain instantly subsided but I held the doctor’s hand to my shoulder, so grateful for her healing skills. I appreciate everyone who took care of me.

Sam Tucker
Cape Elizabeth