My recovery seems to be going well and I am following my dilation routine to the letter as Dr. Brassard recommended. My times during the day are not consistent but I get in three required sessions.
On the home front things are less rosy.Divorce will soon be finalized and I will have to vacate our home for the last fifteen or so years. J and children to stay in family home. Employment is still an issue and my writing doesn’t generate a steady income. Wherever I end up I will be seeing a lot less of my children about which I am extremely upset.
My emotions have been on the raw side this last week and I have found myself sobbing at the most ridiculous things.
I had been watching an old British sitcom called Hi De Hi about a fictional Butlin's like holiday camp during the late fifties. The series focuses on the camp staff and ran for nine seasons. The other day I caught the very last episode on You Tube. In the final episode the staff learn the camp will not open next season and their little family is cast to the winds.
I think I cried for thirty minutes at the bittersweet conclusion, seeing parallels to my own situation, silly no?
Sometimes it overwhelms me and threatens drown what I hope is the good person inside of me.
I think I have managed to keep a positive attitude despite personal and employment issues. I can remember how far I have come and how lucky I am to have many supportive friends and family.
But sometimes the old me flames back into being, the old me… always angry/sad/miserable… I take each minor setback to heart and bile floods my soul.Dear constant reader that corrosive anger is like a drug, I used to draw my strength from it, the fuel of my ambition and a necessity to get me through the day.
I would hazard a guess many transsexuals have that same self hating anger as a crutch. The original concept of anger (wrath) as one of the seven deadly sins meant anger directed externally as well as internally.
Part of me welcomes its return with open arms, so familiar and so comforting. Yes it whispers, hate the world, no one loves you,you are freak.
Clearly I have written this post more than a few times over my journey, the telling helps exorcise the demons, thanks for listening everyone.
As the villager said in Monty Python's Holy Grail, she turned me into a newt but I am much better now…
Today I vacuumed and washed both my Cadillac Seville and Buick Electra. Always a work out but I managed it. I also installed a new dash in the Seville to replace the original that had cracked, hey it is almost thirty years old!
I saved a blue dash from an 82 Seville last summer and had dyed it red (using leather shoe dye) to match my interior. Kudos to Cadillac for making it an easy job to replace, only eight bolts and four Phillips head screws.
Took the Electra (love that name, just rolls of the tongue) for a spin around the block, OMG forgot how wonderfully smoooooth and powerful and large.
Fun Facts:
According to classical mythology Electra was the daughter of King Agamemnon and and Queen Clytemnestra who took revenge against her mother and stepfather Aegisthus for the murder of their father, Agamemnon.
The Phillips head screw was invented by Henry F. Phillips of Portland Oregon. The importance of the crosshead screw design lies in its self-centering property. One of the first customers, in 1937, was GM for its Cadillac assembly-lines.
At 233.3 inches (5,926 mm) long the 75 & 76 Electras are the biggest Buicks ever made.
GM designer Wayne Kady was responsible for both the 1976 Buick Electra and the 1981-1985 "bustle back" Cadillac Seville.
Today is the anniversary of my first month dilating or as we shall now call it GMS (girl maintenance schedule). Natasha I liked your acronym so much I shall now call it mine.
I get to go down from dilating four times a day to three, which means every minute of the day does to seem to be dominated by ones GMS. Downside is that I have to now use the next size larger….owwww.
#3 is a light green colour, perhaps I will call this one Kermit, because you know its not easy being green.
GMS time per session increases from twenty to thirty minutes. Five minutes for #1 (statutory grape), ten minutes for #2 (blue meenie) and fifteen minutes for Kermit. Sitz baths twice a day continue for another month.
I am feeling better and can get out and about more. I even attended a dinner party last Thursday, my inflatable donut was my date.
On Monday I drove for about forty minutes to visit my father and to check on my 59 Cadillac, which is currently in his garage complex. It was a good visit but I find I tend to over do it then pay for it the next day feeling super tired.
Tensions are high at home with “J” needless to say. Divorce looks to be finalized soon and then matter of house and me moving. You probable guessed I will be having some storage issues. But that is a story for another day.
Doing my best to remain positive and to focus on job search.
I don’t know if I would go as far as say I am back in the land of the living but I think I have finally left the walking dead stage behind.
The mind is willing but the body is weak sums up the way I am feeling this morning.
First of all a big thanks to super blogger Cass who kept the home fires burning on this blog with my garbled texts from the front lines. She has also been a true friend patiently listening to my tearful bitching.
What the hell can I say about the experience, except I am still processing it all. I knew theoretically that it would be painful but never having had any major surgery I was ill prepared for the level of pain I experienced. Emotionally it was challenging, transition is a gradual process but SRS is an immediate change.
I left the recovery center in Montreal on the 10th, my father once again was nice enough to pick me up and drive me back to Ontario. First stop was McDonalds; I was craving a Big Mac and a McFlurry, ohhhhhh greasy, chocolatey heaven.
For the last two weeks plus I have been staying at the home of my old friend “D”. I have known “D” since I was 14 and we share a love of old luxury cars. He was the prior owner of my 76 Electra Limited coupe. I will be returning the favor and playing Florence Nightingale later in the year when “D” goes in for surgery….no not SRS!
It was agreed between my ex “J” and I that I do not come home right away as she didn’t want me upsetting the children. Also I would feel obligated to help out around the house when I would be in no condition to do anything but look after myself.
After two weeks I am really looking forward to getting home to my own bed, seeing my girls and last but not least DRIVING!!!!!!! I don’t care if it is around the block but I need to see six feet of hood in front of me and seven liters plus of V8 under my right foot. Talk about withdrawal. Forget Demerol my drug of choice is Detroit.
“J” and I disagreed about my return, I wanted to come home now, her opinion was that I don’t ever. After much discussion by text and in person we seemed to have reached a compromise. I will be going home but the stay will not be permanent. I would have secured my own place before surgery but as a writer I am hopelessly underemployed. A real job is my priority, writing is only a stopgap, I have an MBA in marketing and have worked for multinationals such as Bridgestone Firestone and the Bank of Montreal.
The photos were taken by my friend Natasha after a mercy trip to Taco Bell we popped into my favorite salon to say hello to the girls….. what can I say fatigue overcame me.
Hi all, it's Cass again. I wanted to give you the latest on how April is doing.
I am happy to report that she was able to leave the hospital mid-week last week. Yea!
Her father kindly volunteered to drive her home - "via the scenic route," she reported.
She is staying with a friend for several weeks to allow her to get some much-needed rest.
Unfortunately, she is still dealing with a considerable amount of pain.
And consequently, she has had nights during which she was not able to sleep well.
Fortunately, she *did* sleep well last night, and even dreamed about (what else?) cars. :c)
I just tracked down several articles on post-GCS recovery, specifically those that discuss dealing with ongoing pain.
Could I ask a favor? If anyone knows of any other articles, could you please pass them along, either in the comments here or on my blog, Cassidy's Quest? Thank you in advance!
Either April or yours truly will keep you updated, depending on how she feels.
And please, continue to keep April in her thoughts. She has been touched by the outpouring of support from everyone. On her behalf, thank you very, very much.
Apologies for the delay between posts; it has been quite busy in my little corner of the world. (Mostly good, thankfully!)
Concerning "The Greatest" in the post title...
April had a very, very difficult time over the weekend, I am sorry to say.
Happily, though, she is feeling better.
Finally.
Before writing this post, I asked April what she would like me to share with all of you.
"I don't think I can quite put it into words yet," she replied.
Instead, she asked if I could post the following clips in lieu of her own thoughts for the time being:
Those were somewhat tongue-in-cheek, needless to say. :c) (I hope!)
But poor April really did go through an extraordinarily difficult ordeal last week.
While still weak, she is feeling much better the past few days, happily.
I can always tell because her sense of humor is back. :c)
Here is a small sample from late afternoon yesterday.
To set the stage, you need to know a few things:
April is obsessed with zombies.
She is somewhat conservative politically.
I am from Boston, a/k/a Moscow on the Charles. lol
(That's OK; we love each other anyway!)
And with that:
April: Off for my pre-dinner zombie shuffle around the outside of the clinic, sis.
Cass: Think of it as good practice for the real thing, when you need to blend in.
April: It is inevitable.
Cass: Sad but true.
April: Not too late to join the NRA, Cass.
Cass: Disqualified; I live too close to Harvard.
***
I will conclude this with a brief personal note.
April endured excruciating pain and discomfort for most of last week.
I can scarcely imagine how difficult it was for her.
(Although she has vowed to do what is necessary to make her laugh as I apparently made her laugh:
"When you are here," she told me, "I will make it my solemn duty to tell jokes, dirty limericks, perform physical comedy... whatever is takes to double you over.")
("Also, I will bring chips and creme soda too. :c)"
(Hey, we may fight like sisters... but creme soda trumps all!)
Yet she not only persevered, she did so with what I have come to recognize as her singular combination of grace, determination, and courage.
Hi everyone! It's your substitute blogstress, Cass, checking in once again with another April update.
I am pleased to introduce Piggly Wiggly and Steve the Monkey, respectively, in the photo above. April's daughters insisted that they tag along so she would have company in Montreal. In turn, April loaned *them* her teddy bear, Virgil Exner - which seems only fair, really. :c)
April suggested the focus of this post be... pain. :(
She has had to endure a great deal of it in the past few days, I am afraid.
It comes in waves; it recedes somewhat after she is medicated, but returns yet again as they wear off.
Consequently, she has had very little sleep following her surgery. (I have the text messages in the middle of the night to prove it, alas.) And what sleep she can manage is fitful at best.
Her sense of humor is intact, fortunately, which is always a good sign. Several readers were concerned - quite rightly - about making her laugh unnecessarily. Needless to say, the instigator is - you guessed it - April!
I have mentioned that this may not be advisable... but the girl cannot help herself! Nonetheless, I shall try to refrain from following her lead. (Bad April! Bad April! lol)
She has said that the other girls there are wonderful, and they get along well. In fact, one went out for a walk and brought April back her beloved Doritos yesterday! I expressed awe - both that April can eat Doritos *and* that her roommate can venture outside so soon after her own surgery! Kudos to you both, ladies!
I will end with a self-portrait provided by our girl, taken yesterday:
"This is the only portrait *anyone* will have of me while I am here, Cass," she texted me. I must note that her fingers look quite fetching in spite of her fatigue, do they not? And that blue johnnie no doubt complements her blue eyes perfectly. Even in pain, she is hopelessly fashionable.
I will sign off for now. Here's wishing everyone in the States a Happy Fourth of July, and a Happy Thursday to everyone else!
Stay tuned for more!
***
Per April's request, a song from her favorite band, The Cramps:
Hi everyone, it's Cass again with another quick April update!
She had a difficult night, unfortunately. She was in a great deal of pain, and consequently was unable to sleep.
We just chatted via text; she feels a bit better, but is still quite uncomfortable. Hopefully it will be short-lived.
In positive news... she took her first steps today! Yea!!!
"Three laps around the room, sis!" she reported. I told her how proud I was of her... but she had fallen asleep again. :c) (I will forgive you, sis... *this* time. lol)
Her father stopped by today before departing for his return home. (Another friend is taking her home when she is discharged.) Once again I am so, so impressed with how wonderful he has been this entire journey. Why, I may even lop off one or two years of *my* Christmas list that they rightfully owe me, as their Irish-American daughter.
OK, probably not. But the fact that I was considering it speaks volumes. :c)
No doubt this is what everyone would expect from our April, but her sense of humor is intact, Here is one exchange from yesterday:
April: On waking after surgery I requested Doritos and Diet Pepsi... stat
Cass: And... ?
April: Received two saltines water.
Cass: Be sure to tell them you're never coming back.
April: I m sure they will lose a Michelin Guide star as a result of this.
Cass: No doubt. Logging on to Yelp right now to express my outrage on your behalf.
And one more from last night - this one a bit more adult (i.e. what constitutes 99% of our conversations). :c)
April: Hi sis. Waiting to get a shot. In considerable pain.
Cass: I'm sorry, sweetie. :c( Hope it is temporary. Please let me know when you feel better.
April: Will do. Remember that scene in Alien?
Cass: I was thinking of Scanners, but your reference also works.
April: Not my head that hurts, actually. lol
Cass: :D
April: APB - missing hot dog, short furry man, Identified by witness.
Cass: He goes by Dick. Dick Hertz.
And just in case we hadn't thoroughly revealed ourselves as the degenerates we both are, here is the video I promptly sent April... as soon as I finished laughing, that is. :c)
More updates and depravity to follow! Not necessarily in that order, of course... ;-P
Just wanted to write a few words to keep you all up to date.
Before I get into today, I had to report a few details from April's adventures yesterday.
She did some last minute shopping, and went for lunch with her Dad.
"Sis, you won't believe where we ate," she texted me, sending along the following photo:
If you can't read that, it is called "Le Roi du Hot Dog." lol
Seeing that photo made me laugh out loud at the coffee shop where I read her post.
I immediately countered that *my* choice for pre-surgery nourishment would be here, at this legendary Seattle institution:
Again, for those who may not be able to see it, it is called Dick's. :c)
The sign below says "Dick's Deluxe 100% 1/4 Lb. Beef," which prompted me to muse that a quarter pound of Dick's beef might actually make a fine first meal post-surgery as well. And*that* made April laugh out loud!
***
As for the Day Before, April reports that she had a good day overall.
She spent the morning bopping around her room at the B&B to the sounds of the Ramones, and sent along this particularly lovely self-portrait:
I think that brilliant smile says it all, don't you think? :c)
Being April, she of course spent her big day in - where else? - a car. lol She and her father went for a drive in his Jaguar through Montreal "with the top down."
I asked if she meant the car, herself, or both ("just want to be clear for posterity's sake in the blog post, hon," I told her); she assured me it was the former.
"Otherwise, people would have been throwing money at me yelling 'for God's sake, get some boobs!'" she said. lol
There was one glitch, unfortunately, shortly before she checked into the hospital.
Her MP3 player mysteriously deleted her files - 200 mp3s of her favorite songs and, even worse, photos of her daughters.
She was understandably distraught, as she was counting on both to help her through this week.
Fortunately, I was able to pass along several photos, including one of two stuffed animals her daughters loaned her for the week. (In turn, April's teddy bear, Virgil Exner, is at home with the girls to keep them company. :c))
We also managed to get April some of her missing songs that I also have - The Ramones, The Cramps, several others, including this gem from The Primitives, which April and I both adore:
I also sent along some live Bruce Springsteen, another favorite we both love. So at least she has some of her music back. :c)
***
The arrival of the replacement soundtrack helped, as did her ensuing report:
"You won't believe what the final supper was, sis: sausages! :O !"
You can't make this stuff up, folks!!!!
***
I just got off the phone with April a short while ago.
She is in good spirits - nervous, as we can all no doubt understand, but mostly very excited.
"It's impossible to put into words - 'surreal' comes closest," she said. "But that isn't quite it either. But I guess it will have to do."
She is in her hospital room and, is resting comfortably. She joked that the only reason she will worry tomorrow is if a) they ask her to hold open the textbook during surgery, or b) Dr. Nick from the Simpsons ("Any operation, $29.95") walks in to the operating room. :c)
She promised to either text or call as soon as she is feeling up to it tomorrow. And I, in turn, promise that I will let all of you know as soon as I can.
Please know that I have I passed along all of the greetings and expressions of good will to her, and told her that her considerable fan club down here in the States are all sending her wishes of good health.
She sends her love to all of us and said she is humbled by it. I assured her she deserves every bit of it, as well as the happiness she is feeling.
"Congratulations, sweetie," I told her as we signed off. "I'll talk to you on the flip side. And when we do... you will have done it! Congratulations! I am so, so happy for you!"
I think she said thank you in return, but apparently I had the same dust in the air April did, which made it hard to hear or read the screen. :c)
Hi everyone! This is Cass, substituting for everyone's favorite Blog Goddess, the divine Miss April. Some of you may know me from such blogs as Kelly's Quest (RIP) and, currently, Cassidy's Quest.
While I enjoy writing my blog, one of my proudest roles is as April's sister.
The fact that we were separated at birth by several months, the Atlantic Ocean, and, well, different birth parents does nothing to change the fact that we are, in fact, sisters.
Even if April thinks rock & roll ceased to exist after 1965 (The Cramps excepted) and that a shirtless Dick Cheney would make a fine Playgirl centerfold (no, I am not making that up!).
(On a related note, sis: Still following up with our folks down here in the States about the 29 years of Christmas and birthday presents that you quite rightly feel are your due. Stay tuned.)
Anyway, April wants to stay in touch with everyone while she is having her surgery in Montreal next week, even though she has limited access to the Internet during her stay.
This has has, alas, put the kibosh on her plans for live pay-per-view coverage of her surgery, complete with dancing hot dogs performing an interpretive dance chronicling her surgery as it happens. The world weeps.
(The dancing hot dogs are something of an inside joke between April and yours truly, one that has taken on a life of its own in our daily chats. April provided a possible alternate title for this post as well: "Dancing Hot Dogs Over Montreal...look to the skies." lol)
But fear not, brave readers! This momentous occasion shall still be chronicled with the reverence to which it is entitled, courtesy of April's first-hand missives. I will be posting her wit and wisdom as she parcels it out during the week to her millions of followers around the globe.
(Play along, ladies; the girl's gotta dream, after all...)
April is sending these to me via text, so they are brief by necessity. Any typos are my fault and mine alone, not April's. So without further ado, I will defer to the lady of the moment:
My sister April!
"The drive from Toronto to Montreal took all day as traffic was snarled through Toronto due to heavy rain.
My father offered to drive me down in his new supercharged Jaguar convertible.
My job was to stay awake and keep an eye out for police cars.
We stopped in Coburg for a late lunch and to check out a XJ8 sedan, as we are both inveterate petrol heads.
We made it to Montreal by ten PM, only to find most of downtown blocked off for a fireworks show in my honour. (Jazz fest on too; coincidence?).
As we decided to go down one day early, we are staying in a very quaint and French style hotel.
Today I check into the bed and breakfast associated with Dr Brassard's clinic.
Then, on Sunday, I transfer to the hospital. My father will stay on in Montreal till Tuesday.
So much more to say but I am somewhat constrained by the text format. I am sending my missives to my sister Cassidy by text, who has graciously offered to update my blog. (Ed. note: My pleasure, sweetie!!!)"
***
This is Cass again. April encouraged me to offer any additional thoughts I had, so I will share a few thoughts she passed along when we chatted late last night.
The commute through Toronto was nightmarish, as it turned out, due to horrendous traffic and heavy rain the entire journey. As she noted, she and her Dad stopped to look at an XJ8 sedan.
Because such things must be given their proper respect. :c)
"Cass, it was triple black!" she said, bewildered, when I apparently failed to show the appropriate level of reverence.
(Me to April: "Oh, it was *triple black*!!!! Well, that makes all the difference in the *world*, doesn't it?!?" :-p)
BTW, that is *all* I remember of her lengthy list of the car's virtues. Oh well.
(Nobody mention to April that I told you this, or else she'll tell Dad on me. Thanks in advance...)
We just chatted via text a short while ago. She went out to do some last-minute clothes shopping - hey, it IS a Saturday in Montreal, after all - and run a few final errands. She is in good spirits, and VERY excited. Almost as excited as I am for her. Almost. :c)
I will post her further thoughts as the muse strikes her in the days to come. And I promise I will post about how she is doing as soon as I hear on Monday.
April sends her love to all of you, and I have assured her that it is returned many, many times over by all of us.
More to follow, but for now, this is Cass signing off on behalf of April!
My undergrad degree is in history, it was also my favourite subject as a child and the only one I excelled at. I love exploring the history of everything around me, my cars, the companies that produced them, technology, politics, music.
I want to know the history of how things came to be as they are. I look at the world through the lens of history. I am baffled how other people can go through life not knowing the historical issues and facts that shape our day to day existence.
I see my existence as a citizen of the democratic west as a continuum that stretches back from the American Revolution to Great Britain to Rome and to Greece.
It is the same with being transsexual, I made it my business to find out all I could about those who went before, the trailblazers without whom we would not have the map to find our way forward.
Frequent readers will recognize my fascination with Dr. Burou and the Parisian transsexual scene of the late fifties, early sixties. I have even had two articles published on the subject. His patients included my heroines, Coccinelle, Bambi and April Ashley.
When I travel to Montreal to receive surgery on July 1st, it is the technique pioneered by Dr. Burou in Casablanca that will be the basis of my SRS.
In her autobiography April Ashley recounts how on the operating table as the anaesthetic kicked in Dr. Burou said,
"I must ask you again, any doubts...' 'Do your finest work, Doctor.' Then they gave me the final jab. As I murmured, 'One ... two ... three . Dr Burou bent over and breathed, 'Au revoir, monsieur.'
As I came round I was not aware of my body, which was immobilised by bandages. The first words were Dr Burou's: 'Bonjour, mademoiselle.' I heard myself, far off, saying, 'Was it successful?' 'Indeed it was. I'm very proud of you.' Then I passed out with relief."
Au revoir monsieur….Bonjour, mademoiselle… words I will whisper to myself on the first of the month.
Tuesday morning I journeyed back to the accident reporting centre in Burlington to get my police report.
The service representative informed me that the Province's no fault law meant that I shouldn't even bother filling a report and that I would be out of pocket for any repairs.
As an aside when waiting for her to get to my report I saw her cross to other side of the office and speak to the two police officers on duty. Now I am not sure I heard correctly but the gist was that…. "she used to be a guy"
Clearly when calling up my driver's licence and personal details, the name change was evident. Topical as recent events and Mr. Snowden have shown we have no secrets from our governments. I don't believe my personal appearance gave me away as I have been asked about my husband more than a few times the over last month or two. However I found her comments (hello I can hear you across the room, bitch) rude and disrespectful.
Once I had the accident report it was automatically sent to my insurance company, my broker also took my details and was more optimistic this time saying there was a chance that my insurance company would go after the driver of the SUV as she was at fault. He also added that the staff of the reporting centre had no idea of how insurance law worked in Ontario.
Before the end of the day I had a call from my insurance company, Portage la Prairie Mutual (great name eh? sounds like it should be insuring old west gunslingers), yes they would fix my car at no cost to me and would I like a courtesy rental car too!
I was so happy and relieved!
The next morning I was driving a nice black Chevy Impala (working AC…yahoo) to inspect my poor Lincoln at the body shop. Initially the independent appraiser wanted to right her off but once again my contact at Portage la Prairie went to bat for me, telling me to send her a list of the cars upgrades so that they could establish a more reality value.
There was one more hitch as the appraiser said the dent in the fender was not caused my the accident, claiming that only the SUV's trailer hitch made contact with my car. I was able to prove otherwise sending them a photo taken a week prior at a car show showing no dent and a photo of the SUV's rear bumper with green paint on it…..thank goodness for cell phone cameras.
I should get my Lincoln back Friday morning….yes the same day I leave for Montreal!!!
The suspension has already been repaired and everything checked out with a four wheel alignment. The rims were also checked to make sure they were still were true and rebalanced.
yeah its supposed to be straight
looks like both she and I will undergo our respective operations
I would love to have her completely repainted but a quote of $9,000.00 but paid to that idea. So the patina will stay for now, it does have it fans.
I will also be sure to send a thank you letter to my broker and insurance company.
Once again I must apologize for my delay in posting dear constant readers, especially as the great day approaches.
On Monday of last week my beloved 1976 Lincoln Continental Mark IV was hit in my oldest daughter's school parking lot. I had just pulled into the lot to pick her up and out of the blue a new Dodge SUV backed into my right front fender while I was still moving, albeit slowly.
The Lincoln was jolted to a stop as the tow hitch on the Dodge jammed into my tire and the SUV’s back bumper coming into contact with my RH fender.
Exiting my car I was initially relieved to see only minor damage, close inspection showed a crease in the fender near the apex of the fender flare. The Lincoln’s decorative belt line moulding protecting the rest of the fender from harm.
As I was now blocking the school parking lot I attempted to move my car, no luck both front wheels refused to move or steer, looking underneath I could see severely bent steering components…my heart sank.
I was in shock from the accident and at the fact that my old friend who had carried me around for some 16 years lay mortally wounded. I felt the tears welling in my eyes.
My Lincoln never let me down through summer heat or the worst winter storms, I knew ever inch of that car having sweat and bled to keep her running. The thought that she may be a “write off” made me sick and I realized how much of me was in that Lincoln. It wasn’t just another old car, it had become an extension of myself, a little care worn and patinaed but still sleek and elegant. ;)
In a daze I called “J” to pick up our oldest daughter and take her to her swimming practice. I exchanged insurance and licence information with the woman who was driving the Dodge SUV, a teacher at my daughter's school as it turned out.
note angle of wheel
Adding to my misery was that the Lincoln unlike the rest of my fleet only had liability insurance, no collision. I would no doubt be out of pocket for the repairs and was not currently in a position to afford them even if I did the work. On top of everything I was scheduled to leave for Montreal in less than two weeks and this was the last thing I needed.
In Ontario we have no fault insurance (each insurance company looks after their policy holders regardless of fault …if you have collision…and then battles it out behind the scenes). I called my broker but he wasn’t optimistic even though the accident wasn’t my fault.
I called CAA to tow my car to a body shop I trusted, the tow truck driver was very nice and gave me a ride home from the shop. I think he was trying to pick me up as he offered to tow any of my cars for free in the future.
The next step was to go to the accident reporting center and get an official police report. I drove to nearest centre in Oakville in my Seville, see it pays to have way more cars than you need.
At the accident reporting center I was chided for not driving my car there to show them the damage. I explained that the accident had rendered her undrivable. Well then you should have it towed I was told. OMG, it would have cost a few hundred dollars to have it towed from Burlington to Oakville then back!
By this time it was nearly eight pm and the shock had worn off to replaced by anger at the obtuse eaucracy I was now battling. Finally they agreed to send a police officer to confirm the accident damage. I was told to drive back to the bodyshop and wait for an officer to meet me there. Surprisingly one turned up quickly but as he had never done such a report (?) told me to go home and wait for a call from the police the next day.
I left the Lincoln looking forlorn in the body shop parking lot. I was so upset I couldn’t sleep, heart sick at the loss of my old friend.
