(no subject)
For those of you who didn't already know: I had a motorcycle accident on Wednesday afternoon on my way home from work.
I'm doing okay and am healing up at home, but thought I'd put down the full story for my memory's sake and the curious types.
Wednesday afternoon around 5:10 I left work with the intention of going home, getting changed, and heading up to my parents' house for the night. Every fortnight on a Wednesday (including this one) I go up and see them for dinner, and my sister and her family are there at the same time. Good for catching up.
At about 5:45pm I was heading southwest on Pennant Hills Rd near North Parramatta, a few km from home. It's a main road with two lanes in each direction that heads down a hill, levels out, has a speed camera, and then terminates in the Church St intersection a few hundred metres later. Posted speed is 60km/hr.
I had passed the speed camera and was doing 60, preparing to brake for the Church St intersection.
I was in the centre-most lane so I was the most visible to cars coming out of side-streets - if I'm in the kerb lane, they tend to not see my headlight through the trees and are more likely to pull out in front of me. Preparing to brake means I was taking up the slack on my front brake lever, starting to throttle down and getting ready to shift gears.
There was a single car stopped ahead of me at the red light, same lane. There was an oncoming car, also centre-most lane, some grey thing that I didn't recognise off the top of my head, with a big smiley sort of grill.
I didn't think much of the oncoming car. If you've ever done a bike course, they teach you to drive pretty defensively - everything that is on the road is trying to hit you, so compensate for it. I've had so many cars cut me off or pull out in front of me and I expect it, I cater for it with braking space, swerving (being aware of traffic around me so I know it's safe to swerve) and just watching for the warning signs of a car that is likely to do it.
I didn't have it for this car. I was approaching a small side street on my left, their right, and they made none of the usual indications to suggest they wanted to turn. No indicator (never a sure sign anyway), no braking to more safely negotiate the turn, no head movement to suggest they were headed that way.
In the end, they didn't turn in front of me to get into the side street.
They turned into me.
Beats me how you miss seeing an object 5m away from you, but somehow they did.
And the first indication I had was the car looming towards me in what was now my peripheral vision, because I'd already gone on to looking for the next threat.
This is the intersection I was hit at:
I remember thinking "Oh no. Wtf. I can't do anything." Because I really couldn't. My body was in all the wrong places to accelerate and swerve.
I looked down and right and saw their bonnet about to hit the middle of my bike and me.
I have no recollection if I actually tried to brake or accelerate or swerve.
I felt the sickening jolt as they hit me.
I came off my bike.
I remember tumbling through air, I remember seeing sky and ground and everything moving and not having a point of reference to work out what was happening.
A witness, my first-aid, said she saw me somersault over the bonnet and tumble along the ground.
I remember jolting along the ground and thinking that I wished I would just stop already, wished that I had a way to make myself stop tumbling.
I finally slid to a stop in the kerb-most lane, staring back up the road:
I was curled up on my left side and back, my Kata backpack propping me up from the road a bit.
My left arm was laying on the ground, my left leg was curled up and resting on my left arm, and my right leg was laying on top of the left.
My right arm was more off to the side a bit.
I could see my bike a few metres up the ground towards the intersection, still pointed roughly the same way I was travelling, also in the kerb-most lane. Couldn't see the front half of it, but it looked mostly undamaged with the exception of some fairing up near the pillion seat.
My bike seat rain cover had come off and was closer to me.
My right arm hurt a little bit near my elbow, felt like a graze.
My right leg was agony, throbbing agony from my knee to my ankle. I could see where the fabric of my jeans had been torn/worn away from the kevlar layer beneath.
I remember thinking I was lucky I had them on or I'd be looking at bare bloody knee.
I yelled a lot, half a dozen times. More anger than pain, just letting absolutely everyone within hearing distance know just how angry I was at that stupid driver, and how much my leg hurt, and how much I didn't want to be where I currently was.
My right leg hurt pretty bad. I'd never broken anything before, but it felt pretty broken from the way it hurt more than anything and the way I didn't think my foot would respond if I tried to move the rest of my leg.
So I didn't move, I just lay there on my side staring at my bike and trying to work out what shrapnel on the road was from my bike and hoping no one would run me over.
Someone parked just behind my bike to protect us from traffic.
A woman came and told me she was ringing an ambulance.
She had a bluetooth headset on. She asked if I was okay, where it hurt. I explained about my arm and leg, and said that I thought my leg needed supporting because it hurt.
She held my leg horizontal for me. She held it for the entire time we waited for the ambulance, a good 5 minutes or more. I was no help, my leg and arm were already shaking from the effort of holding still for it. If not shock.
I was pretty calm, no tears. Her name was Kim.
She asked if she could call my parents for me - I gave her my house number.
Later, she got their mobile number from me so she could call them again and tell them where we were going. They'd already left, so had my sister and my family.
I couldn't explain to them how to call sights-alined. My phone was in my left pocket and I couldn't get it. And since my parents had already left they couldn't email her. I couldn't remember any mobile numbers off the top of my head that would've known how to contact her. Just had to hope they could when we reached the hospital.
The paramedics arrived. They chocked up my leg with a kit and let Kim free.
They gave me a green pain-killing whistle to breathe through while they worked out how to get me on my back.
They cut my kevlar jeans, which was to be expected.
They didn't cut my boots off, which was amazing since I told them I was more than happy for them to cut my gear off if they needed to.
This was around the time I found out I was bleeding from my leg. They also mentioned it was likely I'd broken something. Again, I couldn't see anything of this.
After that they decided I needed heavier painkillers for them to get me flat. They injected something up my nose in a spray to bring the pain down to manageable levels.
They cut the end of the straps on my Kata backpack so they could thread it free, meaning it would still be useful in future.
I found out my main paramedic, Brian, was Canadian. I told him I loved Canadians.
They got me flat, got my gloves off.
They even managed to get my jacket off without cutting it - I told them I had a spare and I didn't mind them having to cut it, but apparently all the ease I had with moving and lack of pain in other parts of my body meant they were less worried about spinal injuries, so they persevered a little more and got it out from under me.
They didn't get the helmet off of me until I was in the ambulance. Again, didn't cut the straps, even though I likely won't be able to use the helmet again since it's had an impact.
Replaced it with a neck brace.
I managed to sign the form for the tow truck to tow my bike away. I think the signature even looked like mine.
I didn't cry till then.
Off to the hospital (a short walk from my apartment) and emergency.
The next few hours were a bit of a mess.
More painkillers, more lovely nurses who gave me their names and looked after me.
Waiting in the dark for people to look after me.
Visits from my mum, my sister, my dad.
I gave my phone to my mum and asked her to contact sights-alined and keep her updated because I knew she'd be freaking out by now, having not heard from me. Got her to contact leviathan777 and another friend Paul as well, in the hopes that they could spread the news to my various groups of friends.
More painkillers, more doctors.
Clothes cut off or removed.
X-rays, which verified I had a compound fracture in my lower leg, with both my tibia and fibula broken. In multiple places, in the case of my tibia.
No neck injury, no spinal injuries, so off came the neck brace.
Minor scrape on my right elbow, scrape and bruise on my inner right forearm.
A perforation in my knee, quite deep, that they were a bit worried about.
Tetanus shot.
Blood sample for blood alcohol testing for the police.
They decided at one point that they wanted to get chest x-rays and that they needed my leg in a cast to get me upright like that. So they dosed me with this amazing drug called Ketamine, which put me mostly under, took away the pain, and made me hallucinate like crazy. I remember lots of pretty shapes and colour and movement, it was like playing WipeOut or something. I would switch between the shapes and reality and had no clue what was going on.
I was still under that a bit when they sent me for the chest x-rays. I remember it being a lot of effort to sit up, and apologising for being out of it, and holding on to bars to keep myself up, and it being hard to breathe.
They also sent me for a stomach CT scan.
I guess they were working out if I had any internal injuries (no).
I was given my phone back, because the nurse said it was fine.
I was in no real state to text people, but it was a comfort having it there and knowing I could contact people if I needed to. I think I texted sights-alined a bit over the next few hours, but I can't really remember.
The doctor came and told me I'd be having surgery in the morning.
That I'd be getting either metal rods inserted, or metal plates screwed onto my bones, depending on what they found when they cut into me.
Because I had two exposed wounds (the compound fracture and the knee) they'd flush both the wounds out and try and make sure my risk of infection was much lower.
I was excited by the prospect of titanium rods and being part-aircraft.
By this time I think it was nearing midnight or so?
My nurse let me have a bit of orange juice since I wasn't having surgery til morning. I wasn't feeling up to the sandwiches she also offered me.
I ended up with a catheter because the other options weren't working and were making my heartrate freak out a little. I thought it would be more painful, but it was pretty fine and a lot more comfortable after that.
I also started getting my period, awesome timing thanks body <3
They were constantly worried about my high heartrate and low blood pressure, so they had a drip attached to the canula in my right hand that the ambulance officers had put in. They also had me on liquid antibiotics through the same thing.
I was getting morphine injections through that.
At some point they put a canula in my left arm as well, but didn't use it much.
They also gave me an ECG. I'd had one of these before so it wasn't as exciting as all the rest. I don't recall being plastered with a bunch of button studs before, though. I had about 4 or so of these still attached to my ribs the next day:
The police came around 3 or 4am to take my statement on the accident.
I found out that the people in the car that hit me were two female Canadian tourists, and that the driver had an international driving license. I had to laugh at encountering more Canadians.
Apparently they were both really distressed over having hurt me and were concerned about me.
As much as I appreciate that, I'm still pretty happy they're being charged.
Inattentiveness is the only explanation I have for their behaviour, and I think any driver, particularly one in a foreign country, should understand how important it is to pay attention.
Not like the charges will stick much since they're going back to Canada in a few weeks anyway.
Apparently the degree with which they'll be charged depends on my injuries and how the doctors class them - whether they count as permanent disability or something like that.
Not sure if I'll find out the results of that. I would think they'd at least have to pay a large fine, and that they may have difficulty entering the country again.
Managed to print my name and sign the police statement.
My nurse told me that the police officers were cute (they were rather young) and that she felt embarrassed on my behalf, since I was all hooked up to billions of tubes and not at my best. I laughed.
I drifted in and out of sleep. Hard because there's always something going on in emergency, and it was interesting to watch.
At around 5:30 they moved me up to a normal hospital word in orthopaedic trauma.
More nurses, more names.
I tried to sleep for a bit, but was woken up around 7 - medication, blood pressure, changes to my drip, visits by doctors.
These ones said that I'd be getting plates, not rods.
I threw up the orange juice I'd had the night before. Apparently it's pretty common with all the medication I was on.
I was probably in surgery by 8ish. Back in recovery around 12ish, wouldn't be able to tell you how much of that was surgery and how much it was me being passed out. I don't even recall them putting the stuff into my canula to make me sleep.
My parents were in my ward waiting for me.
They'd brought me a whole bunch of stuff for my stay, like clothes.
I now had a cast from just above my toes to just over my calf, below my knee.
And a couple of patches on my knee above that, and a 1cm cut running out from under one of them.
I'm told they only had to make a few cuts to insert all my plates and screws, which is nice to hear from a more vain, cosmetic perspective.
I was feeling pretty good, considering. Very alert.
My parents took a few pics:
So yeah, I think I was doing pretty okay.
I had more visitors that afternoon, friends and family with balloons and chocolates.
Managed to eat some normal food.
Got into a routine of painkillers - never needed anything more than what they regularly dosed me with, though the leg was always an ache in the background. Needed help with showering and bathrooming.
Got lots of texts, sent lots back.
Thursday night was terrible and long. Two of the people in my four-person ward were snorers, and wow did they snore. Nothing regular that you could get used to and sleep with, but loud, irregular, scary snores that prevented all sleep. I don't think I got more than a few hours what with that and the regular blood pressure checks and my drip beeping.
Had x-rays on Friday morning. The guy doing the x-rays said I had a pretty impressive break, he winced a bit.
Explained my story dozens of times to the nurses, doctors, visitors. We all agreed that motorbike riders wearing nothing more than shorts and a tshirt are idiots, and that it was very lucky I had only the one injury and was wearing all my gear.
Found out that my plates and screws are stainless steel. Bit disappointed - instead of part aircraft, I am part saucepan.
Did physio and passed the test to use crutches, thus giving me more independence.
It's exhausting but I had no issues with balance.
Got flowers and a balloon from work - gave them a call that afternoon to thank them and see how things were going. I explained that I thought I could probably be working from home from some time next week, but my boss said not to rush it and that I should take things a step at a time. He also mentioned that the accident is covered by workers comp, so they were working something out with HR.
I think I'm getting my work laptop off of my brother-in-law next Wednesday anyway, so it will be good to have it around for when I start work again.
It's good knowing I have the flexibility to work from home and can take off the time I need and still be paid.
Saturday my parents went to see where my bike had been towed to.
My bike is a write-off.
Structurally it looks pretty okay, but there's extensive damage to the fairing and that's all pretty expensive. On a relatively cheap bike, it adds up very quickly.
All the damage is on the right side.
There are cracks and scratches along all of the panels on the right side. The frame holding the muffler system in place has been torn off, and there's a big dent in the exhaust. The right handlebar is twisted in against the body of the bike.
It's a bit sad to look at. I'll have pictures of it in a later entry.
From what we can see, it's likely that my leg was caught between the car and my bike, and as I started coming off the bike, the pressure broke my leg. The muffler frame came off with the continued movement, I went over the bonnet of the car and went bouncing down the road. The bike probably continued on for a short while and then ploughed into the ground, causing the damage to the handlebar.
No damage to the front fork or wheel or headlight, aside from a missing headlight cover, so I definitely know the car hit mid-to-rear of my bike.
Saturday afternoon I managed to get myself discharged, because I wanted to go home and be with my parents and get decent sleep.
I was given a bunch of paperwork and instructions to call a doctor for an appointment in two weeks, along with a script for Panadeine Forte. No antibiotics, which I thought was a bit weird.
And here I am at home. My cast weighs a few kg and feels like I'm carrying a small child on my leg all the time. The weight has led to impressive bruises on my legs that I'm pretty sure weren't from the accident, because they only happened after I got mobile. I checked with a doctor and they're normal.
Bruises here:
The weight pulls on my right knee, on my right hip, and causes strain on my left knee.
I can't wait for my appointment on the 4th - apparently it'll get replaced with a fibreglass cast then and should be significantly lighter.
At this stage I might still get to see the Edinburgh Military Tattoo on the 6th - I booked to see it with friends and family months ago, but if I have this heavy cast on then it's impossible. The throbbing from the weight and gravity would be hard to bear for more than half an hour. Fibreglass would again make it easier.
sights-alined is going to be here in just over a week and this makes me happy beyond words. It's also awesome because she'll be able to help look after me while I'm trapped on the couch. Thankfully she doesn't mind being my live-in nurse. My parents will be back at work soon, so I'll need the help.
I hate being this dependent.
I'm taking the Panadeine Forte but only when I feel I really need it. This is so far a single tablet right before I go to bed, at 5am in the morning, and around 2:30 in the afternoon. Not bad considering my injuries, I think.
And that's about it.
tl;dr: Compound fracture to my lower right leg, beautiful bike is no more, and I get to see sights-alined. Things could be a lot worse. I'm lucky.
I'm doing okay and am healing up at home, but thought I'd put down the full story for my memory's sake and the curious types.
Wednesday afternoon around 5:10 I left work with the intention of going home, getting changed, and heading up to my parents' house for the night. Every fortnight on a Wednesday (including this one) I go up and see them for dinner, and my sister and her family are there at the same time. Good for catching up.
At about 5:45pm I was heading southwest on Pennant Hills Rd near North Parramatta, a few km from home. It's a main road with two lanes in each direction that heads down a hill, levels out, has a speed camera, and then terminates in the Church St intersection a few hundred metres later. Posted speed is 60km/hr.
I had passed the speed camera and was doing 60, preparing to brake for the Church St intersection.
I was in the centre-most lane so I was the most visible to cars coming out of side-streets - if I'm in the kerb lane, they tend to not see my headlight through the trees and are more likely to pull out in front of me. Preparing to brake means I was taking up the slack on my front brake lever, starting to throttle down and getting ready to shift gears.
There was a single car stopped ahead of me at the red light, same lane. There was an oncoming car, also centre-most lane, some grey thing that I didn't recognise off the top of my head, with a big smiley sort of grill.
I didn't think much of the oncoming car. If you've ever done a bike course, they teach you to drive pretty defensively - everything that is on the road is trying to hit you, so compensate for it. I've had so many cars cut me off or pull out in front of me and I expect it, I cater for it with braking space, swerving (being aware of traffic around me so I know it's safe to swerve) and just watching for the warning signs of a car that is likely to do it.
I didn't have it for this car. I was approaching a small side street on my left, their right, and they made none of the usual indications to suggest they wanted to turn. No indicator (never a sure sign anyway), no braking to more safely negotiate the turn, no head movement to suggest they were headed that way.
In the end, they didn't turn in front of me to get into the side street.
They turned into me.
Beats me how you miss seeing an object 5m away from you, but somehow they did.
And the first indication I had was the car looming towards me in what was now my peripheral vision, because I'd already gone on to looking for the next threat.
This is the intersection I was hit at:
I remember thinking "Oh no. Wtf. I can't do anything." Because I really couldn't. My body was in all the wrong places to accelerate and swerve.
I looked down and right and saw their bonnet about to hit the middle of my bike and me.
I have no recollection if I actually tried to brake or accelerate or swerve.
I felt the sickening jolt as they hit me.
I came off my bike.
I remember tumbling through air, I remember seeing sky and ground and everything moving and not having a point of reference to work out what was happening.
A witness, my first-aid, said she saw me somersault over the bonnet and tumble along the ground.
I remember jolting along the ground and thinking that I wished I would just stop already, wished that I had a way to make myself stop tumbling.
I finally slid to a stop in the kerb-most lane, staring back up the road:
I was curled up on my left side and back, my Kata backpack propping me up from the road a bit.
My left arm was laying on the ground, my left leg was curled up and resting on my left arm, and my right leg was laying on top of the left.
My right arm was more off to the side a bit.
I could see my bike a few metres up the ground towards the intersection, still pointed roughly the same way I was travelling, also in the kerb-most lane. Couldn't see the front half of it, but it looked mostly undamaged with the exception of some fairing up near the pillion seat.
My bike seat rain cover had come off and was closer to me.
My right arm hurt a little bit near my elbow, felt like a graze.
My right leg was agony, throbbing agony from my knee to my ankle. I could see where the fabric of my jeans had been torn/worn away from the kevlar layer beneath.
I remember thinking I was lucky I had them on or I'd be looking at bare bloody knee.
I yelled a lot, half a dozen times. More anger than pain, just letting absolutely everyone within hearing distance know just how angry I was at that stupid driver, and how much my leg hurt, and how much I didn't want to be where I currently was.
My right leg hurt pretty bad. I'd never broken anything before, but it felt pretty broken from the way it hurt more than anything and the way I didn't think my foot would respond if I tried to move the rest of my leg.
So I didn't move, I just lay there on my side staring at my bike and trying to work out what shrapnel on the road was from my bike and hoping no one would run me over.
Someone parked just behind my bike to protect us from traffic.
A woman came and told me she was ringing an ambulance.
She had a bluetooth headset on. She asked if I was okay, where it hurt. I explained about my arm and leg, and said that I thought my leg needed supporting because it hurt.
She held my leg horizontal for me. She held it for the entire time we waited for the ambulance, a good 5 minutes or more. I was no help, my leg and arm were already shaking from the effort of holding still for it. If not shock.
I was pretty calm, no tears. Her name was Kim.
She asked if she could call my parents for me - I gave her my house number.
Later, she got their mobile number from me so she could call them again and tell them where we were going. They'd already left, so had my sister and my family.
I couldn't explain to them how to call sights-alined. My phone was in my left pocket and I couldn't get it. And since my parents had already left they couldn't email her. I couldn't remember any mobile numbers off the top of my head that would've known how to contact her. Just had to hope they could when we reached the hospital.
The paramedics arrived. They chocked up my leg with a kit and let Kim free.
They gave me a green pain-killing whistle to breathe through while they worked out how to get me on my back.
They cut my kevlar jeans, which was to be expected.
They didn't cut my boots off, which was amazing since I told them I was more than happy for them to cut my gear off if they needed to.
This was around the time I found out I was bleeding from my leg. They also mentioned it was likely I'd broken something. Again, I couldn't see anything of this.
After that they decided I needed heavier painkillers for them to get me flat. They injected something up my nose in a spray to bring the pain down to manageable levels.
They cut the end of the straps on my Kata backpack so they could thread it free, meaning it would still be useful in future.
I found out my main paramedic, Brian, was Canadian. I told him I loved Canadians.
They got me flat, got my gloves off.
They even managed to get my jacket off without cutting it - I told them I had a spare and I didn't mind them having to cut it, but apparently all the ease I had with moving and lack of pain in other parts of my body meant they were less worried about spinal injuries, so they persevered a little more and got it out from under me.
They didn't get the helmet off of me until I was in the ambulance. Again, didn't cut the straps, even though I likely won't be able to use the helmet again since it's had an impact.
Replaced it with a neck brace.
I managed to sign the form for the tow truck to tow my bike away. I think the signature even looked like mine.
I didn't cry till then.
Off to the hospital (a short walk from my apartment) and emergency.
The next few hours were a bit of a mess.
More painkillers, more lovely nurses who gave me their names and looked after me.
Waiting in the dark for people to look after me.
Visits from my mum, my sister, my dad.
I gave my phone to my mum and asked her to contact sights-alined and keep her updated because I knew she'd be freaking out by now, having not heard from me. Got her to contact leviathan777 and another friend Paul as well, in the hopes that they could spread the news to my various groups of friends.
More painkillers, more doctors.
Clothes cut off or removed.
X-rays, which verified I had a compound fracture in my lower leg, with both my tibia and fibula broken. In multiple places, in the case of my tibia.
No neck injury, no spinal injuries, so off came the neck brace.
Minor scrape on my right elbow, scrape and bruise on my inner right forearm.
A perforation in my knee, quite deep, that they were a bit worried about.
Tetanus shot.
Blood sample for blood alcohol testing for the police.
They decided at one point that they wanted to get chest x-rays and that they needed my leg in a cast to get me upright like that. So they dosed me with this amazing drug called Ketamine, which put me mostly under, took away the pain, and made me hallucinate like crazy. I remember lots of pretty shapes and colour and movement, it was like playing WipeOut or something. I would switch between the shapes and reality and had no clue what was going on.
I was still under that a bit when they sent me for the chest x-rays. I remember it being a lot of effort to sit up, and apologising for being out of it, and holding on to bars to keep myself up, and it being hard to breathe.
They also sent me for a stomach CT scan.
I guess they were working out if I had any internal injuries (no).
I was given my phone back, because the nurse said it was fine.
I was in no real state to text people, but it was a comfort having it there and knowing I could contact people if I needed to. I think I texted sights-alined a bit over the next few hours, but I can't really remember.
The doctor came and told me I'd be having surgery in the morning.
That I'd be getting either metal rods inserted, or metal plates screwed onto my bones, depending on what they found when they cut into me.
Because I had two exposed wounds (the compound fracture and the knee) they'd flush both the wounds out and try and make sure my risk of infection was much lower.
I was excited by the prospect of titanium rods and being part-aircraft.
By this time I think it was nearing midnight or so?
My nurse let me have a bit of orange juice since I wasn't having surgery til morning. I wasn't feeling up to the sandwiches she also offered me.
I ended up with a catheter because the other options weren't working and were making my heartrate freak out a little. I thought it would be more painful, but it was pretty fine and a lot more comfortable after that.
I also started getting my period, awesome timing thanks body <3
They were constantly worried about my high heartrate and low blood pressure, so they had a drip attached to the canula in my right hand that the ambulance officers had put in. They also had me on liquid antibiotics through the same thing.
I was getting morphine injections through that.
At some point they put a canula in my left arm as well, but didn't use it much.
They also gave me an ECG. I'd had one of these before so it wasn't as exciting as all the rest. I don't recall being plastered with a bunch of button studs before, though. I had about 4 or so of these still attached to my ribs the next day:
The police came around 3 or 4am to take my statement on the accident.
I found out that the people in the car that hit me were two female Canadian tourists, and that the driver had an international driving license. I had to laugh at encountering more Canadians.
Apparently they were both really distressed over having hurt me and were concerned about me.
As much as I appreciate that, I'm still pretty happy they're being charged.
Inattentiveness is the only explanation I have for their behaviour, and I think any driver, particularly one in a foreign country, should understand how important it is to pay attention.
Not like the charges will stick much since they're going back to Canada in a few weeks anyway.
Apparently the degree with which they'll be charged depends on my injuries and how the doctors class them - whether they count as permanent disability or something like that.
Not sure if I'll find out the results of that. I would think they'd at least have to pay a large fine, and that they may have difficulty entering the country again.
Managed to print my name and sign the police statement.
My nurse told me that the police officers were cute (they were rather young) and that she felt embarrassed on my behalf, since I was all hooked up to billions of tubes and not at my best. I laughed.
I drifted in and out of sleep. Hard because there's always something going on in emergency, and it was interesting to watch.
At around 5:30 they moved me up to a normal hospital word in orthopaedic trauma.
More nurses, more names.
I tried to sleep for a bit, but was woken up around 7 - medication, blood pressure, changes to my drip, visits by doctors.
These ones said that I'd be getting plates, not rods.
I threw up the orange juice I'd had the night before. Apparently it's pretty common with all the medication I was on.
I was probably in surgery by 8ish. Back in recovery around 12ish, wouldn't be able to tell you how much of that was surgery and how much it was me being passed out. I don't even recall them putting the stuff into my canula to make me sleep.
My parents were in my ward waiting for me.
They'd brought me a whole bunch of stuff for my stay, like clothes.
I now had a cast from just above my toes to just over my calf, below my knee.
And a couple of patches on my knee above that, and a 1cm cut running out from under one of them.
I'm told they only had to make a few cuts to insert all my plates and screws, which is nice to hear from a more vain, cosmetic perspective.
I was feeling pretty good, considering. Very alert.
My parents took a few pics:
So yeah, I think I was doing pretty okay.
I had more visitors that afternoon, friends and family with balloons and chocolates.
Managed to eat some normal food.
Got into a routine of painkillers - never needed anything more than what they regularly dosed me with, though the leg was always an ache in the background. Needed help with showering and bathrooming.
Got lots of texts, sent lots back.
Thursday night was terrible and long. Two of the people in my four-person ward were snorers, and wow did they snore. Nothing regular that you could get used to and sleep with, but loud, irregular, scary snores that prevented all sleep. I don't think I got more than a few hours what with that and the regular blood pressure checks and my drip beeping.
Had x-rays on Friday morning. The guy doing the x-rays said I had a pretty impressive break, he winced a bit.
Explained my story dozens of times to the nurses, doctors, visitors. We all agreed that motorbike riders wearing nothing more than shorts and a tshirt are idiots, and that it was very lucky I had only the one injury and was wearing all my gear.
Found out that my plates and screws are stainless steel. Bit disappointed - instead of part aircraft, I am part saucepan.
Did physio and passed the test to use crutches, thus giving me more independence.
It's exhausting but I had no issues with balance.
Got flowers and a balloon from work - gave them a call that afternoon to thank them and see how things were going. I explained that I thought I could probably be working from home from some time next week, but my boss said not to rush it and that I should take things a step at a time. He also mentioned that the accident is covered by workers comp, so they were working something out with HR.
I think I'm getting my work laptop off of my brother-in-law next Wednesday anyway, so it will be good to have it around for when I start work again.
It's good knowing I have the flexibility to work from home and can take off the time I need and still be paid.
Saturday my parents went to see where my bike had been towed to.
My bike is a write-off.
Structurally it looks pretty okay, but there's extensive damage to the fairing and that's all pretty expensive. On a relatively cheap bike, it adds up very quickly.
All the damage is on the right side.
There are cracks and scratches along all of the panels on the right side. The frame holding the muffler system in place has been torn off, and there's a big dent in the exhaust. The right handlebar is twisted in against the body of the bike.
It's a bit sad to look at. I'll have pictures of it in a later entry.
From what we can see, it's likely that my leg was caught between the car and my bike, and as I started coming off the bike, the pressure broke my leg. The muffler frame came off with the continued movement, I went over the bonnet of the car and went bouncing down the road. The bike probably continued on for a short while and then ploughed into the ground, causing the damage to the handlebar.
No damage to the front fork or wheel or headlight, aside from a missing headlight cover, so I definitely know the car hit mid-to-rear of my bike.
Saturday afternoon I managed to get myself discharged, because I wanted to go home and be with my parents and get decent sleep.
I was given a bunch of paperwork and instructions to call a doctor for an appointment in two weeks, along with a script for Panadeine Forte. No antibiotics, which I thought was a bit weird.
And here I am at home. My cast weighs a few kg and feels like I'm carrying a small child on my leg all the time. The weight has led to impressive bruises on my legs that I'm pretty sure weren't from the accident, because they only happened after I got mobile. I checked with a doctor and they're normal.
Bruises here:
The weight pulls on my right knee, on my right hip, and causes strain on my left knee.
I can't wait for my appointment on the 4th - apparently it'll get replaced with a fibreglass cast then and should be significantly lighter.
At this stage I might still get to see the Edinburgh Military Tattoo on the 6th - I booked to see it with friends and family months ago, but if I have this heavy cast on then it's impossible. The throbbing from the weight and gravity would be hard to bear for more than half an hour. Fibreglass would again make it easier.
sights-alined is going to be here in just over a week and this makes me happy beyond words. It's also awesome because she'll be able to help look after me while I'm trapped on the couch. Thankfully she doesn't mind being my live-in nurse. My parents will be back at work soon, so I'll need the help.
I hate being this dependent.
I'm taking the Panadeine Forte but only when I feel I really need it. This is so far a single tablet right before I go to bed, at 5am in the morning, and around 2:30 in the afternoon. Not bad considering my injuries, I think.
And that's about it.
tl;dr: Compound fracture to my lower right leg, beautiful bike is no more, and I get to see sights-alined. Things could be a lot worse. I'm lucky.