Oldschoolcarbs
New member
On Sunday Nov 10th at around 2 PM I low sided just south of Alice's, at the first lookout point.
I rolled and tumbled for what seemed like an eternity, and finally came to rest literally at the feet of a bystander.
He took my helmet off and I got a quick inventory. Bone was sticking out of my right knee, and the middle fingers on my left hand were deformed.
Terrifyingly, I was having trouble breathing
Being far in the mountains it took a while for the ambulance to get there.
They cut my clothes off and stabilized me for transport.
At first I was a candidate for airlift but I hadn't lost consciousness and had full use of my toes and fingers (relatively speaking) so I had a nice 40 minute ambulance ride to Stanford Medical center.
Once there they determined the extent of my injuries:
4 broken ribs, right side.
Protruding kneecap bone, right side.
8” laceration, bone exposed, to the right elbow.
Broken left wrist, broken carpal bones, and multiple dislocated fingers--left hand.
Pneumothorax right lung, which is when you have an air cavity between your lung and ribs—hence the difficulty breathing.
They're kind enough to warn you that putting in a chest tube is the most painful procedure an accident victim can hope to endure. And in the trauma room you can't have general anaesthesia owing to the possibility that there are as yet undiscovered internal injuries
They ram a tube the size of a drinking straw between your ribs just under your armpit, into which they insert a thin wire. They poke it around until they find the air bubble and over the next 36 hours it deflates.
Now to the CT scan, where you have to lie perfectly motionless, still no painkillers.
Then off to emergency surgery to repair the kneecap.
I woke up in ICU with tubes going everywhere, but at least now I had a thumb button with morphine on demand.
Aside from the morphine, in the ICU they aren't so concerned with your comfort level. Their job is to keep you alive so in that sense it's not just about surviving the crash but surviving the treatment. Despite the IV drip I was desperately thirsty but they wouldn't give me so much as an ice chip for 18 hours, again just in case there's an internal injury.
Interestingly they're obsessed with whether you're farting, which it turns out is a key indicator that your intestines and spleen aren't broken.
After three days in ICU they moved me to valley medical center, where incidentally my wife (amicably separated) works. The doctors got the pain under control and the therapists got me up and walking. They showed me how to do things for myself that I'd not have thought were possible, which was critical because I live by myself in an upstairs apartment.
A couple of things to note.
To the guy in the SUV: You shitstain. I don't know if you sped up to keep me from passing but you definitely saw me go down and you didn't stop.
I'm given to understand that on Sunday the 10th there were three downed riders along that stretch of road in a short time span. Maybe coincidence but one has to wonder.
But whatever. You can go bonkers thinking about the possibilities so we focus on incremental improvement in the present.
To the folks in the turnout who petted me and made kind sounds: I hope you win the lottery.
Despite the fact that their jobs require them to inflict a certain amount of discomfort, I've never been surrounded by so many beautiful young women. Small consolation I know but yikes, do they have sweet, compassionate, and pretty girls at Stanford and VMC.
osc
I rolled and tumbled for what seemed like an eternity, and finally came to rest literally at the feet of a bystander.
He took my helmet off and I got a quick inventory. Bone was sticking out of my right knee, and the middle fingers on my left hand were deformed.
Terrifyingly, I was having trouble breathing
Being far in the mountains it took a while for the ambulance to get there.
They cut my clothes off and stabilized me for transport.
At first I was a candidate for airlift but I hadn't lost consciousness and had full use of my toes and fingers (relatively speaking) so I had a nice 40 minute ambulance ride to Stanford Medical center.
Once there they determined the extent of my injuries:
4 broken ribs, right side.
Protruding kneecap bone, right side.
8” laceration, bone exposed, to the right elbow.
Broken left wrist, broken carpal bones, and multiple dislocated fingers--left hand.
Pneumothorax right lung, which is when you have an air cavity between your lung and ribs—hence the difficulty breathing.
They're kind enough to warn you that putting in a chest tube is the most painful procedure an accident victim can hope to endure. And in the trauma room you can't have general anaesthesia owing to the possibility that there are as yet undiscovered internal injuries
They ram a tube the size of a drinking straw between your ribs just under your armpit, into which they insert a thin wire. They poke it around until they find the air bubble and over the next 36 hours it deflates.
Now to the CT scan, where you have to lie perfectly motionless, still no painkillers.
Then off to emergency surgery to repair the kneecap.
I woke up in ICU with tubes going everywhere, but at least now I had a thumb button with morphine on demand.
Aside from the morphine, in the ICU they aren't so concerned with your comfort level. Their job is to keep you alive so in that sense it's not just about surviving the crash but surviving the treatment. Despite the IV drip I was desperately thirsty but they wouldn't give me so much as an ice chip for 18 hours, again just in case there's an internal injury.
Interestingly they're obsessed with whether you're farting, which it turns out is a key indicator that your intestines and spleen aren't broken.
After three days in ICU they moved me to valley medical center, where incidentally my wife (amicably separated) works. The doctors got the pain under control and the therapists got me up and walking. They showed me how to do things for myself that I'd not have thought were possible, which was critical because I live by myself in an upstairs apartment.
A couple of things to note.
To the guy in the SUV: You shitstain. I don't know if you sped up to keep me from passing but you definitely saw me go down and you didn't stop.
I'm given to understand that on Sunday the 10th there were three downed riders along that stretch of road in a short time span. Maybe coincidence but one has to wonder.
But whatever. You can go bonkers thinking about the possibilities so we focus on incremental improvement in the present.
To the folks in the turnout who petted me and made kind sounds: I hope you win the lottery.
Despite the fact that their jobs require them to inflict a certain amount of discomfort, I've never been surrounded by so many beautiful young women. Small consolation I know but yikes, do they have sweet, compassionate, and pretty girls at Stanford and VMC.
osc
Which way were you heading north or south??
