The Uv's insurance claim was registered, but no action had been taken.
When the phone rang at 5:30 the next morning I flashed to G'ma (Nope, she's dead. Yes, it's raw; it was 5:30 in the morning, people!) Who else? My adrenaline, already stoked from the fender bender, was aluminum in the back of my throat before I said Hello.
"Ma'am, this is Maria from Erie Insurance calling about your claim number......"
"Do you know that it is 5:30 in the morning here?"
"Oh. No. I am So Sorry. I'll call back."
"Will you?" I wondered, and I hung up the phone.
We connected later, the company is taking full responsibility, I can go to my preferred repair shop, they'll get me an Enterprise loaner car, the appraiser will meet me and write the check on the spot, and yes, I was sure that I was feeling fine.
PTSD, the gift that keeps on giving. I was fine as far as the claim is concerned. The rest of me, the part that goes a little nutty and has a hard time finding its way back to center, that part is still a work in progress.