A Cautionary Tale
Coming home from breakfast Monday (Labor Day) morning on my Husaberg 570FE motorcycle just before 1000hrs, on a narrow, shoulderless, closed-in piece of undulating tarmac two miles from the house, a young woman in a borrowed full-size late model GM pick-up, and on her cell phone, tried to “James Dean” me while she was making an unsignalled left turn without pause on a blind curve. I was already going slowly because sight lines in the area are very close, traffic was up, and I have driven this road for over twenty-five years. The actual accident presented to me very uniquely; the visual image of the big speeding truck head-on in my lane appeared and before I could even process it as “vehicle”, I was on my front brake. The front tire, trying to bank left and then brake hard, washed out, levered the handlebars violently, and I low-sided forcefully on my left side. I’m afraid with the suddenness, the fear and the pain, I screamed for a while on the roadway just like an animal. And then I saw my leg; nothing I could fix at home.
Everybody was very good to me, people stopped, the woman driving the truck called an ambulance, the POs and EMTs showed up, triaged my situation, got my bike out of the way (and I called for a tow) and I was in the Abbott Northwestern emergency department within the hour. I never lost consciousness and my uninformed opinion of no fractured bones and no head or neck injuries proved accurate. My boot, jacket and pants were trashed on the left side, although I slid a total of only 10 to 15 feet after low-siding.
It took nine hours to process through the emergency department and, since I now live alone, I had to manipulate them into releasing me after I got somebody to come pick me up and give me a ride home. The main risk has been having the stiches on my leg de-hisc (pull out), because, as it was explained to me, with the laceration completely across the top of my leg above my knee, they only had one bite of the apple to get it stitched and healed. If I pulled the stitches out, there would be nothing else left to sew on to. I have a picture of the un-repaired wound, but it's nothing you want to see, although they came from all over the hospital and across the street to look at it. 22 stitches to close. So I have been very slow and careful, and there have been challenges taking care of myself and the girls, but when I was seen in ortho clinic last Thursday morning, the stiches were good, there was no indication my quads capsule had been damaged and there was no sign of infection. I even tried to go off of the narcotic pain-killers last Thursday. Big mistake. Reducing pain meds is still somewhere in the future.
So I am getting better and doing fine and will make a complete recovery with no remaining residual effects. It will just take a little time. Indeed, I feel quite blessed and very grateful considering that if my 58-year-old reactions had not been what they were, I would have gone straight into the side of the accelerating truck (the driver told PO's and her adjuster that when she saw me, she accelerated "to get out of his way"), high-sided, spun and probably would have been hurt much more. Or the other alternative. And although no citations were issued, the other driver's insurance adjuster has taken full liability for my injuries and the damage to the Husaberg. The yoga, the meditation, and the Holy Spirit were all with me. May they always be with you. Namaste!
Doing my duty . . . the way I see it.