Gordon Ramsay is thankful to be alive, and he credits not only all the doctors, nurses, and staff at a Connecticut hospital who took care of him, but also the helmet which he says saved his life.
Over the Father’s Day weekend, the celebrity chef took to social media to share a scary story with his fans. Even a week after the accident, it still had Ramsay shaken up.
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“This week I had a really bad accident while riding my bike in Connecticut,” he wrote. “I’m doing ok and did not break any bones or suffer any major injuries but I am a bit bruised up looking like a purple potato.”
Ramsay, who is an avid cycler, explained the importance of wearing a helmet no matter how “short the journey is” or the fact that helmets cost money because they’re “crucial.”
“I’m lucky to be standing here. I’m in pain. It’s been a brutal week, and I’m sort of getting through it,” Ramsay said as he lifted his shirt to reveal a massive bruise.
The Hell’s Kitchen star also included before and after photos from his accident.
I’m so glad Gordon Ramsay is okay. Seeing his bruise and the aftermath of his helmet is an excellent reminder of the importance of making sure you always wear a helmet no matter what!
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My Granddaughter Forced Me Out for Getting Married at 80 — I Couldn’t Stand the Disrespect & Gave Her a Lesson to Remember
After my granddaughter ousted me for marrying at 80, I couldn’t accept her disrespect. Together with my new husband, Harold, we crafted a bold plan to teach her an unforgettable lesson, culminating in a family-altering confrontation.
I never imagined sharing this tale, but here it is. My name is Margaret, and I celebrated my 80th birthday last spring. I resided in a small, personalized room within my granddaughter Ashley’s home, surrounded by keepsakes of my life.
“Morning, Grandma,” Ashley would say, bursting into my room unannounced. She never knocked.
“Morning, dear,” I’d reply, tidying up my space. “What’s the hurry?”
“We’re off to the park with the kids. Need anything?”
“No, I’m good. Enjoy your day.”
After she rushed off, I reflected alone. I couldn’t complain much; after all, I had sold my house to fund her college education after her parents died tragically when she was 15.
I took her in and strived to provide a good life. Now, she lived here with her husband, Brian, and their two children, in a home that was always bustling.
Things took a turn when I met Harold at the community center months ago. He was charming, always with a camera around his neck. Our chats soon became the highlight of my week, offering a second shot at love.
One day, while Ashley was at work, I decided to share my news. I found her in the kitchen that evening, busy with a recipe book.
“Ashley, I have something to tell you,” I started.
She looked up, “What is it, Grandma?”
“I’ve met someone. His name is Harold, and… he proposed.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Proposed? You mean, marriage?”
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