I’MPOSSIBLE — the story behind “I was shot in the face, what’s your excuse?” INTRO 1/3
I’ve had a lot of requests to write about my “accident”. It happened exactly 13 years ago today in Manila, Philippines.
THE SHOT
My meeting was supposed to be quick and informal. The call I received the night before was for me to meet my broker at a little cafe at 9:30 am. We were one small step away from a well deserved paycheck for everyone involved later that day. All I had to do was sign one last waiver and call it a day. I could not have been more excited, anticipating the conclusion of a deal after weeks of intense negotiations.
Leaning out of my balcony, it was already turning out to be a hot day. I glanced at my phone, 9:15 am, time to leave. With my favorite tank top and basketball shorts on, I shoved what I needed into my pockets, my travel Nokia cellphone and some change to get there and back.
Closing the bright red metal door to my building, I felt a sense of relief knowing that all my hard work over the last 6 weeks was about to pay off. My urban neighbourhood was already bustling and alive, a huge reason why I moved to an otherwise undesirable area. Walking to the cafe would have taken 20 minutes and I didn’t want to be late nor battle the heat that early. Luckily, a pedicab across the street sees me hailing him over, nods his head, pulls a quick u-turn and pedals towards me.
As I approach him, I hear a deafening bang.
My ears are ringing. Oddly, for a brief moment, the first thing I recall seeing was myself, my limp body on the ground, as if I was having an out-of-body experience. My very first thought was, “this can’t be it. I’ve got so much to do this week.” The workaholic in me had never been more evident.
As reality kicks in, I find myself staring at feet shuffling across the ground. I’m trying to breathe and suddenly realize I’m gurgling blood as it continuously fills my mouth. I try to get up. Nothing is happening. I can’t move. I’m calling out for help but it sounds like a whisper. “Please help me …”
I persist. Nothing has changed. I’m still immobilized and I can barely hear my own thoughts.
As I’d eventually come to learn, I had been shot in the face. My right cheek to be exact. My assailant was, I’m assuming, aiming for my temple , but for some reason missed by a few inches. I’m a firm believer in being the best at whatever you choose to do, regardless of what it is. It was point blank range for crying out loud. He would definitely not get a 5 star rating on Google reviews or a recommendation on Yelp. But I digress. The gunman was waving his weapon at the crowd forming around us keeping them at bay. Out of an alley, an accomplice shows up on a motorbike, and as quickly as I’d been shot, he jumps on and they both disappeared into the crowded streets, never to be seen again.
After what felt like a very long minute, I start seeing multiple unfamiliar faces, a glimpse of the sky and gorgeous sunshine, and then what I’d eventually recognize as the floor of a jeepney. As the gunman left the scene, Nonoy, a recently unemployed father heroically turned good samaritan raced to my side, picked up my lifeless body and hailed down a passing vehicle. If you aren’t familiar with jeepneys or aren’t already googling images of one, it’s a ‘made in the Philippines’ mode of public transportation, that’s a hybrid between a jeep and a van with a permanently open back door.
The driver, understandably shaken, still found in his good graces and the presence of mind to ask for payment. Not having any money himself, Nonoy quickly suggested trading my new leather sandals for a ride to the hospital. Luckily for me, the overpriced mall version for $40 I had recently purchased the week before, became my best investment to date, as that offer was accepted and off we went. Meanwhile, my limped body rolled slowly along the floor as I’m trying my best not to swallow blood, rather unsuccessfully mind you. My head feels every single bump on the road but I’ve lost all feeling below my neck. The time seemed to fly by as I battled the continuous flow of blood into my esophagus. Thankfully, the vehicle eventually comes to a sudden halt.
I briefly see the sky as I’m hauled out. Little did I know then that it would be weeks until I’d experience sunshine once again, or I might have appreciated the glowing rays just a little bit more. My head is now bobbing up and down staring at the fluorescent lights of a hospital hallway. We finally come into a room under much brighter lights. A crowd of masked heroes form around me. The atmosphere changes. Panic and urgency is in every raised voice I hear. But I can’t understand anything they’re saying.
Something is now being forced into my mouth and down my throat. My body is struggling, or at least I felt like I was. Screaming out in pain, I finally lose consciousness.
