Missing all the Good Fall Weather
 

I've been suffering through one of the most temperate autumns eastern Missouri has seen in a long time. The temperatures for the past few days have been in the low 70s F, and they haven't been at all cold this season--perfect riding weather, but I'm in my 7th week off the bike.

On an easy ride the afternoon of September 20th, on a deserted stretch of road between a detour turn-off and a bridge under construction, I hit the asphalt hard. Don't ask me to tell you how I crashed, because I just don't know. I did not hit my head and lose my memory--my helmet is untouched; I just went down. I must have had my left hand off the handlebar because, out of the blue, the front wheel went sideways and I became further proof of Newton's first law of motion. I landed on my left forearm at the elbow, and apparently flipped the bike over myself before then rolling over it and rolling a couple more times for good measure. As soon as I got up I knew something was wrong with my left shoulder. I thought it had dislocated--see Bankhart repair, 1990--because it felt much like it had felt in the past when it used to come out of socket.

Pride, a need to delay my wife's concern/anger/dismay, and a desire not to rouse her on a day she had started a chemotherapy treatment had me riding, after a few false starts and a lot of fiddling with the brakes, which had both been knocked off center, the seven miles home, bleeding from both knees and both elbows, and unable to control the bike that well because I could barely use my left arm. I did most of the ride in my lowest gears, and, as if the universe itself had decided to conspire for a time against me, three drivers couldn't resist buzzing me while they wore out their horns.

I did rouse my wife so she could take me to the urgent care center--doc in the box--for an x-ray and some wound cleaning, and she was concerned, angry, and dismayed. A non-cyclist, she has often expressed her worries about me riding on the road. Little did it matter that I had been on a closed road with abolutely no traffic when I crashed.

The x-ray showed that I had broken off a piece of the humeral head--the ball part of the shoulder joint. The urgent care people put me in a sling and told me to call an orthopedic surgeon. I set up an appointment with Dr. K., who had done the Bankhart repair, for Thursday--two days later. He wanted a CT scan of the shoulder, which I scheduled for the next Tuesday, and after too long of a wait he finally got a look at the scans.

Dr. K. called in the early evening on Tuesday, October 4th, and we scheduled my surgery for the next day. He intended to do one of the following, in order of both his and my preference: go in with an arthroscope and remove the piece of bone; open the shoulder to remove the piece of bone; replace the shoulder with an artificial one. When they put me under, I did not know which option he would choose. All I knew was that he would go in with the arthroscope to take a look before deciding on an option.

They woke me in recovery and told me they had removed the piece of bone using the arthroscope and that they were sending me home. Then they began shooting me up with pain medication, so much so that they had to remind me to breathe--they had depressed my respiration a little too much. Eventually they wheeled me down to a room where my wife was waiting and told me to get dressed. I'll admit that, in my youth, I had my wild years, but I have never before needed to be taken home and put to bed. I couldn't sit up, I couldn't dress myself, and I vomited the Coca-Cola they had given me to drink while they were wheeling me to the car. The ride home was wild; my wife, after spending nine hours in the hospital waiting for me, was in a hurry. Near home she called my son, who is away at college and had not yet heard I was going in for surgery, to tell him what had gone on and assure him I was fine. Of course, while she was on the phone with him I began dry heaving.

At home she put me to bed. I did not at all enjoy the pain medication or the taste of ether that stayed with me for the next day, but I was awfully happy to wake up at home. I've been working on stretching the shoulder muscles back into shape for the past three weeks, and I expect to eventually have near normal function. I may be looking at a shoulder replacement some years from now, and the photos the surgeon took inside the shoulder show some arthritis there, but for the time being I ought to be fine. I see the surgeon in a little over a week, and I hope to be cleared for riding then. If I'm lucky, eastern Missouri will still ave a few temperate days waiting for me.

Gees, and I pis**d and moaned when I fell in a parking lot and DIDN'T get hurt. Hope you're back in action soon. Maybe the bad weather will hold off 'til spring..............
Hope the Mrs. is fine too. Been down that road myself.
Best of luck,

aj

Prosody:

I'm so sorry for what you've been through and hope you recover soon. My best to you and your wife.

My prayers go out to your wife and hope you both get better soon. My admiration to you for being able to share the situation. Keep us updated if you would be so kind.

my sincere wishes for your complete recovery and both yours and your wife's health.

Best wishes for a full recovery - you'll enjoy your bike riding that much more when this is all over.

Wrecked my shoulder, I feel your pain, but I made it back and so will you. Best to you and your wife

So sorry to hear that...Good Luck with your surgery and rehab...hope your pedal'n again soon.

I can really sympathize with you, Prosody. I had the same kind of accident--just fell off the bike while riding FAST and strong late at night. In my case, I broke my wrist and had a lot of other injuries. I was in the hospital for 2 days because my blood pressure and HR were messed up. I was off the bike and off work for 5 months because of the cast and then surgery and another cast. Fractured wrists are often not painful, but they are difficult to heal, compared to other fractures.

One of the worst things is that, like you, I never found out why I fell. I found a 4 inch bolt by my bike, but I don't know if there was other road debris. My doctor theorized that my medication (Tenormin, a beta blocker BP drug) caused me to black out just before the fall. But that's just an educated guess, he said, and he told me to discontinue the Tenormin just in case. (For a number of reasons, beta-blocker drugs are often incompatible with an active lifestyle, anyway. Use something else if your doctor says it is OK.)

The other thing that was difficult for me was the post-traumatic stress I suffered. It was really hard for me to get back in the saddle, even after I was physically ready to ride, due to my fears and trepidations. Even now, once in a great while when I'm hapmmering pretty fast, I get this strange apprehension that I'm going to fall again. I've learned to ride it out; just let these feelings pass away. So after 10 months back riding, I now ride faster, further and stronger than I ever did before.

I'm sure that you'll be back at it real soon. I hope the pain and suffering are less now; it sounds like you're about 6 weeks into your recovery. My advice? Hang in there, stay in shape with walking, running, or whatever exercize you can tolerate. Use the spare time to read about cycling and get your bike in shape. Go back at it gradually as soon as the doc clears you for cycling.

We all feel for you!