By Caleb Curtis
Love was in the air on a Sunday morning in October 2022 as I wrapped up a weekend visiting my girlfriend in Tallahassee. After a three-hour bus ride, I finally arrived in Gainesville. The warm fall air hit my face as I grabbed my duffel bag and backpack from the bottom of the bus. Now, I had one mission: to get to my dorm safely.
I opened my phone for the Lyft app so I could order a car to pick me up. I viewed my options for cars and to my surprise, there was an option to take an electric scooter. Naively, I chose the scooter based on price and arrival time. With my backpack on my back and my duffel bag across my body, I mounted the e-scooter and rode off to Sledd Hall. As I got comfortable with the e-scooter, I increased my speed to full throttle, moving at 15 mph. Suddenly, I felt an unnatural jiggling from my backpack. I realized I had packed my bag too much, causing it to burst open. There was too much to lose if I left it open: my iPad, computer, Bible and keepsakes from my weekend in Tallahassee. I crossed my right hand to the left back of my backpack to grab the opening of the bag. In doing so, my weight shifted, and I twisted off the scooter. I skidded along the concrete at 15 mph. As I lay there, a man across the street stopped to look at me with concern and compassion. Out of embarrassment, I shouted, “I’m okay!”
I was truly not okay, and now I was alone.
I sat on the burning concrete for 30 seconds, then the pain began to kick in. The only person I thought to call was my mom. She suggested that I call a Lyft as I initially planned. As I began to move, I saw blood running down my forearm from my knuckles. My outer right knee was bleeding too, and I had a circular scrape on the palm of my right hand. Painfully, I crawled behind bushes for shade to lay on the ground. I opened my phone, ordered a Lyft, and realized I was starting to black out. I was the most scared I have ever been. Luckily, a notification on my phone pulled me out of it. I read, “Your Lyft driver is here!” I was saved!
After arriving at Sledd Hall, slowly and achingly, I climbed up four flights of stairs and placed my bags in my room. I slowly walked to the dorm bathroom to wash my wounds. Everything hurt: the water, the soap, and bending my hands to open doors and turn off faucets. I realized that I had a sprained wrist and a broken Apple Watch. I bandaged myself up, lay in bed and reminisced about my journey in my bloody shirt. At that moment, it came to me that safety outweighed the time and price of riding the e-scooter. Pain in my wrist persisted for two months while I uncomfortably typed, washed clothes, did homework and returned to lifting weights. I could not shower without pain, walk properly or sleep without sheets scraping my wounds. Furthermore, my Apple Watch and duffel bag were damaged, costing me more money than a Lyft would have cost.
My tale of falling off the e-scooter is a reminder that some risks are not worth taking. Accidents with cars can happen if people decide to ride on the road, and people can be hit on the sidewalk because scooters lack bells. I hope all who use e-scooters take precautionary measures such as wearing protective gear and considering the dangers of going full speed. Be cautious and protect your physical health; it can save you time and wellness in the long run.
Caleb Curtis is a third-year public health major.
“My public health story” essays originated from an assignment on public health storytelling for a public health messaging and dissemination course led by Brittney Dixon-Daniel, Ph.D., M.P.H., director of the Bachelor of Public Health program.