I can tell. Cause here I am in bed with my leg in a cast again.
The following was typed on the 18th after I got back from the hospital, then I added a paragraph today.
So it is Friday and making to be the best riding weather so far this year. I was planning to lead a rally of off road sidecars rigs through the Olympic National Forest in about 8 days.
My off road sidecar rig recently blew a head gasket so while waiting for a new gasket, I decided to use the two wheeler for the recon run.
It was the first time I had been in the forest this year and the weather was beautiful.
The trail was one I had never been on before and was getting rough. The pebbles ranged from cobble stone size to something you might bowl with, patches of oozy stuff the consistency of chocolate pudding made it just slippy enough to be interesting.
Ahead I saw a large puddle of standing water in the trail. Knowing that I am officially an old geezer now , I decided to take it really careful. I stopped and noted that it was oozy going in and coming out so I slipped into low gear and eased in.
Somewhere under the muddy surface invisible to my eyes was a slime covered bowling ball or maybe the skull of the last rider along this trail. When my wheels hit it I knew I was going down, I tried to dive clear preferring a face full of trail side brambles to the unknown rocks under the water.
I was not successful. My right foot caught under the happy trails pannier and as the bike went down, torqued my foot around backwards as the bike fell on me.
I let out a scream of agony that was sure to alert every bear for 50 miles that something was crippled and in pain. I gritted my teeth and worked the leg out from under the bike. Seeing my foot pointing at an un-natural angle was not an encouraging sign. Riding alone is risky. Riding alone in the wilderness is worse. The trail I was on probably only sees a human about two or three times a month, in good weather.
I knew if I was going to get out of there it would be on my own initiative. I was able,( don ‘t remember how), to get the bike upright and on its’ kickstand. Using the bike for support, I was able to stand up while making some very unseemly noises. I loudly hissed, “Oh the perversity of inanimate objects”, or maybe it was just a colloquialism that meant roughly the same thing while struggling to get my injured leg over the saddle. Then I addressed the unseen lump that had caused this, I spoke of it's intelligence quota, it's ancestry and it's sexual habits. Then-
I folded the kickstand up and the engine fired at the first touch. With my injured foot on the right peg, I eased out the clutch and began the ride out of the forest making loud exclamations with every bump. It was low and second gear until I got to a regular forest service road. 25 miles to home seemed like a long way to go and a lot of pain. I was right, it was both. I was able to stop along the way and cell phone a friend to meet me at my house.
I rolled into the drive and put down the stand. I sort of fell off the bike and began to belly crawl to the garage after keying the remote opener. I was half way across the floor when Robert arrived and dug out my wheel chair for me from the rubble that fills most of my garage. Using the cargo rack of my new sidecar for support, I was able to pull myself into the wheel chair. Robert went into the house and came out with my bottle of oxycodone and a cup of water. I lunched on oxycodone tablets while Robert fitted my foot with a plastic cast that I had left over from a broke leg 4 years ago. He then drove me to the emergency room.
Xray confirmed my suspicions. The leg was broken in the exact same place as before.
Bummer.
Well this evening my right foot began to resemble a small football with toes. In the E.R. they had x-rayed my knee when I told them how it had twisted in the fall so I knew that it wasn’t seriously damaged but now it was thick and sore and didn’t bend easily.
I really hate it when it does that.
This will put at least a one month delay on my plans to move to Hawaii in August.
darn! If it weren’t for the drugs, this would not be any fun at all.
My wheel chair has room enough to go from the living room to the kitchen and the length of a narrow hall. it won’t go through the bedroom door or into the bathroom.
This makes simple things like crapping and showering something of a challenge, A painful one at that.
All I can get on TV are three canadian stations with re runs of Lucy, Mash, and Canadian news.
I think I will be playing an awful lot of free cell games on one of the computers.
You would think I would be old enough to know better by now.
Phelonius
Pages: 1
