Getting Past a Cycling Accident

What do you do when you wake up in a hospital room surrounded by your family and friends after you have been riding? This is the question that I had after a ride in mid-May of this year. I was coming down from the mountains behind Santa Barbara, and the next thing I remember is sitting in a hospital room. I did not remember what happened, but I figured out that I must have been in an accident on the ride. But I could not remember it at all. This is a story of what happens to you when you seriously crash and how long the road back is. I have recovered since then, but I still have a little more to go.

The Accident

I had to go to my Garmin Edge and VIRB to find what happened to me that Saturday. I crashed on San Marcos Road in Santa Barbara, descending at 30 miles per hour from Camino Cielo Road in the mountains behind the city. I was entering a right-hand sweeper on a narrow two lane road. I did not want to drift left into oncoming traffic, so I nudged the bicycle right. However, the video of the ride showed that I was only 6 inches away from the right edge of the road. I found out on my first ride years ago that my Trek Madone was 'responsive' at speed. I call it twitchy. I hit the loose soil at the side of the road, and the bike flipped over.

I hit the pavement, mostly on my left side. I fractured my skull in the rear, fractured my pelvis in two places, tore the skin off of my elbows and knees. My left kneecap was exposed and had to be sewn up. The rear of my helmet was smashed in and my jersey, underlayer and shorts were cut off. I awoke on Sunday, on drugs, bandaged up and in pain.

The Hospital

The doctors in Santa Barbara gave me an MRI, and I had dressings on my elbows and knees. I had no surgery, just rest. I have to say that as an engineer and an active cyclist staying in the hospital for five weeks is hard. One week I was in a Santa Barbara hospital near where the accident occurred and four weeks in an Oxnard hospital near where I live for rehabilitation.  First, every time either the doctors, nurses or therapists were not clear about treatments or procedures I would pepper them with questions or discuss the issue until I was satisfied. Over the years, I had learned some medical jargon, which helped me have these conversations. After a couple of weeks, most of the staff respected me enough to give me a little leeway with some things.

As an active cyclist who is used to some independence, I had to ring for the nurse to use do anything out of the bed. This was frustrating. It was painful to walk, but I would much rather do that than just sit there watching the 20 channels on cable television in my room. Family and friends would visit many days, but many days it was routine. I was up at 5 AM, the night nurse would bring coffee, breakfast at 7 AM, a therapy session in the morning, lunch at noon, another therapy session in the afternoon, and then dinner at 6 PM. The only difference for me was the declining level of pain I had. And fortunately, there was progress with the pain. Standing up and walking slowly became easier and easier.

Overall, my experience with the doctors and nurses was pretty good. And the food was not so bad. It was somewhat plain, but it was good. Kind of like airline food of years ago, but larger portions.

I will have my eight-week rehab efforts and the slow road back to cycling next time.