It Happens To The Best Of Us

Vicodin was kicking in.

In June of 2011 I had a serious bicycle accident. I probably had a concussion, but that was never diagnosed. What they did find was that I had a fractured left elbow, a sprained right shoulder and numerous abrasions and bruises on my knees.

Riding along slow and steady after having chatted with a fellow bike path rider, all of a sudden I was flying through the air. Over my handlebars. As I realized I was falling I loosened my body. I came to with my feet facing the entirely opposite direction from which I fell.

The woman I had been chatting with came up from behind me screaming frantically, "Are you dead? Are you dead? What a rush!" I couldn't move yet, but I was able to ask her if my seat was still on the bike. I'd adjusted it that day and the day before and the instruction book repeatedly warned that if you don't tighten the seat securely, you will fall off the bike. I thought that is what must have happened.

As I lay there trying to catch my breath, unable to move, only to speak and look at the sky, I assured the screaming woman that I was not dead. I heard what sounded like a hub cap rolling down the path, turns out that was my back wheel spinning as my bike lay on its side with the chain undone.

Two young men rode up on their bikes to help. Amazingly they rode their bikes from San Francisco to a cycling event in Los Angeles. I believe their names were Tom and Alex. They are cycling pros. One rode a bike with a leather covered frame and handlebars. They had food, first aid, and tools. As one helped me to check for injuries and broken bones (there were none), the other was putting the chain back on and tightening up the seat and checking my bike to see if I could ride it home.

One checked my helmet to be sure I hadn't hit my head. Weeks later I noticed it was cracked. A third man rode up and offered assistance. Then a guy from the construction crew on the nearby corner walked over to offer to call an ambulance. I declined.

I had been helped up by this time and advised to learn on the fence. I kept repeating, "I fell of my bike!", in disbelief. My rescuers replied, "It happens to the best of us." Which was surprisingly reassuring. All of these guys offering help were real pros. I said, "Oh, so it's my turn?" They said, "Yep!"

I tried to call Earl on my cell phone, but couldn't reach him. I knew I was in shock then because I don't know what kind of message I left and I couldn't figure out how to end the call. I wanted him to come get me and I was trying to think how to explain to him where I was and where he would need to park because of the construction at the corner.

As I'm looking down to the corner for a street sign, I notice Earl at the light on the bike path waiting to cross. I kept looking to be sure it was him. He hadn't been on his bike in months and here he was riding up. What a miracle. My Knight in Shining Armor! OK, a shining bike helmet! He says he rode up to the crowd, thinking I'll bet my wife is in that crowd and sure enough, there I was.

The bike guys had fixed up my bike well enough for me to ride the 20 minutes home with Earl escorting me. It took a few minutes for me to get back on the bike. I walked some, but we needed to move things along, so I could get to the Emergency Room. Most of the ride my right arm hung to my side, useless. Applying the brake with my left hand was excruciating with the fractured elbow. We made it, we had no choice.

The ER was a long wait as expected. Even though there were only a few people in the waiting room. There were, however, a lot of people in the hospital and out who needed x-rays. We were there for four hours. Getting home in time to change clothes and go to the Sparks game. (I'm not going to let anything keep my from my Sparks!)

I went to the game in baggy sweats, unwashed from my workout, without even brushing my teeth because my arm was in a sling. Full of Vicadin, I gently cheered on my team. The lesson in humility was that I'd been planning to show off my weight loss in skinny jeans and heels. Not. No one cared what I looked like and I enjoyed the game.

I am most appreciative of all of the angels who looked out for me. The circumstances and the results could have been so much different. Thankfully I fell on the safe bike path instead of on the busy street I take to get to the path. The way I flew over the handlebars would have sent me right into the path of a moving car.

I got to practice a whole lot of patience as I waited 6 weeks for my injuries to heal. I went to see my primary care doctor on that Monday to be sure everything was OK. Good thing, too, because when she looked at my x-rays she saw the hairline fracture in my elbow that the ER people missed. Earl wanted me to be sure to let her know that I don't know what happened and that I was riding and then flying through the air. The other riders said it happens to everyone. I'm sticking with that.

Earl was concerned about the blank between riding and falling. Which made me start to worry. For weeks I would examine the spot where I fell, looking for what might have caught my bike wheel. I never found anything. Months later I figured I'd worried about it enough, and I closed the investigation. I fell and it happens to the best of us.