The "Bloody Trip to Pompeii" Story

It was an ordinary day. Monday, and we are headed to Pompeii. Yep, the same Pompeii that was covered with lava from the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 AD. Now, I already entered a story about our day in Pompeii, but this is about what happened on our way to the city buried by ash. We left Rome after breakfast when we boarded a large bus for the two hour plus ride. There are 31 of us who have been traveling together for the past week or so on this remarkable journey throughout Italy. Part way to Pompeii we stop at a rest stop for snacks and to use the bathrooms. Bathroom stops are important, since most passengers are senior citizens! Takes quite a bit of time for everyone to exit the bus, find their way through the rest stop, buy a bottle of water or wine and re-board. I usually wait at the rear door to the bus to help some of the other travelers who have trouble boarding. Today I did the same thing. After helping everyone onto the bus, I start to enter and when I get to the top step, for some reason I stand up to soon and hit my head on the cross bar at the top of the bus. Really hit it! Knocks me backwards onto the ground below. I recover, stand back up and head back up the steps. By now a few are standing at the entrance to see what has happened to me. When I look at them I realize that something must have really happened to me. Then I feel the fluid coming down the side of my head. Since I have no hair on my head, it is easy to see the gash that I got when I hit the metal bar across the door. Immediately someone hands me a towel to put on my head to stop the bleeding. They then help me onto the bus and have me sit in the first seat inside the back door. One of my traveling companions, Joan, used to be a school nurse and a member of St. James Choir with me. She finds her way to me and examines the gash. "Not sure, but you may need stitches," she tells me. Someone else goes to the front to tell our tour leader, Mary Lou, our former minister at St. James, and she grabs Hilary B. by the arm and they both start towards the back of the bus. Hilary is a doctor and was our pediatrician when our children were younger. She examines me and says it is not as serious as it looks. Just a lot of blood. Since I have no hair, I had nothing to cushion the blow to the head and the skin on the scalp is stretched so tight that the gash is large, but not in need of stitches. She certainly should know since I'm sure she has handled many wounds in her career as a doctor. So, off we go in the bus. Someone brings me a baggie with ice wrapped in a cloth to put on my head to help with the sting. Before long the bleeding has totally stopped and we are dropped off at the entrance to the city. To this day, whenever I see one of my traveling companions, they always reminisce about the day I cut my head open trying to be a good Samaritan. It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.