Training Wheels

They're something I can apparently benefit from again it would appear. You see, almost three weeks ago now, on the 3rd I was trundling along happily enjoying the first of what I expected would be many rides in Canberra when I fell off. It's reasonable to expect that you're going to take a tumble eventually I'll grant you, law of averages type of thing and all that, and I have clocked up about 3500-4000km thus far in my adult cycling life. So while I wont say it was inevitable, I guess you could say I was aware of it as a possibility.

What I didn't count on was the intensely embarrassing nature of the accident. I missed the 'bars. Who would have thought it? Certainly not me, though I had wondered from time to time just how nasty a crash one could have if one were to mess up the fiendishly simple top of 'bars to brake hoods transition, but surely no one could be stupid enough to do that, right? I suppose I should be grateful that it didn't happen when I was whipping along the bike lane on Northborne Avenue at 50kph (quite the personal best for flat land riding too). Instead, we'd just turned into a large bus parking area on our way to ANU and I was rolling along at about 15kph when I watched with growing horror as my hands, cupped perfectly to grasp the brake hoods and in perfect alignment, overshot by about 1" and plunged towards the front axle dragging the rest of my body with them.

I wish I could say that I hit a bump that jolted me forwards, but sadly the bus park had a surface that would put some billiard tables to shame. The sad fact of the matter is I have no idea how I managed to screw up something so simple as riding a bicycle!

Now as any bloke knows, any pain that's the result of an accident that occurs in the presence of ones mates will immediately be canceled out by the acute embarrassment that you'll feel, not to mention the gales of laughter coming from your mates. Let me tell you, there's embarrassment aplenty for those of us who fail to maintain their grasp on a simple device like a bicycle. I landed heavily on my right side, right arm fully extended superman style (I remember thinking "I hope I don't dislocate my shoulder"), and set about the task of picking myself up and dusting myself off before too many people had a chance to notice.

It was at this point that I became aware of two things, #1 I was having a lot of trouble getting beyond the sitting up part of picking myself up and #2 the acute embarrassment was doing bugger all to mute the pain. After I got up (with some help) I tried unsuccessfully to "walk it off". After a little sit down and some ibuprofen it was time to take stock. Right arm, sore, right leg sore, bar tape scuffed but apart from that everything seemed to be roughly in order, provided you consider not being able to walk being in order.

I managed to remount and ride very slowly and extremely painfully to ANU where we'd been going to have a game of badminton (hey, why not I'm on holidays). There was about 1/2 an hour before a court would be available so a flatmate was sent for to make up the fourth person since I'd be sitting it out, and I sat around on a big concrete ball eying up the abandoned bicycles parked in front of the sports centre.

After an hour of badminton (or idly watching depending on who you were) it was time to head off. I hobbled slowly and painfully out, and after a lot of careful consideration and a few false starts managed to mount the bike. Then there was the question of the pub on the way home. After a moments hesitation it was a no brainer, beer could only help my situation. A one armed (right arm to painful to bear weight) very slow ride to the pub was rewarded with two pints of Stella Artois, until it got too cold to sit outside and we finally headed home.

Perhaps not surprisingly two pints didn't actually help all that much since they introduced a wobble that hadn't previously been in my riding. Although it could be argued that given my earlier show of riding skill anything was an improvement.

A fitful nights sleep on the couch revealed that contrary to my expectations I wasn't suddenly better, not even slightly, so we headed off in search of medical advice. Fortunately it was early on a Sunday morning when we got to hospital so all the sporty types were still in the process of injuring themselves and there was only about 5 people ahead of us in the queue, so we only waited an hour or less. After the normal amount of poking and prodding by a nurse, Dr Chan came and checked me out. He decided to take some x-rays just to be on the safe side and I must say I'm rather glad he did.

It seems I took a big piece off the head of the humerus (your upper arm bone) in my right arm as well as fracturing my right hip, a classic old persons fracture - neck of femur (thigh bone, the neck is the bit that joins the ball part to the straight part). They were suitably impressed that I'd been walking around, indeed I walked into hospital (I neglected to mention the two pints to them as I doubted they'd see the humour), however I wasn't feeling too clever after the orthopedic registrar came to see me and said that it was possible to lose the blood supply to the head of the femur and thus require a hip replacement. I'm about 40 years too young for a hip replacement.

They admitted me there and then, saying they'd try and operate that evening. I hadn't eaten breakfast which is handy in these situations. As it turned out they had to patch up some other poor bastard who was knocked about much worse than me so I got bumped to the next day, but still apparently on the emergency list. At least I got to eat dinner and I slept like a baby in that hospital bed.

So anyway, really really long story slightly shorter, 3 screws in the shoulder, one really long screw, a gigantic plate type thing which is also a combined screw, and two little screws to hold the plate thing to my femur later and I'm back home in a wheelchair. The final verdict was no weight bearing on the right arm for 6 weeks (though they said they'd compromise to 4 weeks) and no weight bearing on the right leg for 3 months. I had a good old whinge about the 3 months off the leg but the surgeon put it in perspective for me when he said I could walk on it sooner but I'd have one leg shorter than the other. Case closed, Dr wins.

I'll take some pictures of the x-rays and stick them up here eventually, they're vaugely impressive in their way. I've just got a bill for $40 for three months hire of a wheelchair (one arm drive - you can turn the right side wheel using a ring on the left, it's an engineering masterpiece), ramps, shower bench and monkey bars (the triangle thing you grab to sit up in a hospital bed). It was a bit of a surprise because the term used at the hospital was "loan" not "hire", but it's pretty damn good value for money even so. And, dear American readers, I don't have heath insurance and the operation didn't cost me a cent :-) Gotta love Australia.