Thursday 24 March 2011

I've had a fall

I've reached a point in my life where I can actually say "I've had a fall" rather than "I fell over" due to the severity of it/the weakness of my skeleton. Whilst cycling through town earlier this week I happened to glance away at the wrong time, meaning when I looked up I was faced with a bollard coming a bit too close to my bike...

Now, I knew these bollards were there and that I was going to cycle through them (four on the width of a standard one-way street - overkill), but when I looked up I saw that I was too close to a bollard on my right. I tried to steer away but was already too close and couldn't get far away enough in time (think the moment the iceberg was spotted on the Titanic). 

What I then think happened (it was all over in about 5 seconds) was that my pedal got caught behind the bollard but my bike and I kept going. This was with enough force to bend a solid metal pedal. My bike then wobbled and believe me, as someone who has cycled daily for years, I am used to the odd wobble, especially when I've had one too many. But there was a hell of a lot of momentum behind it and so down came my bike, throwing me over the handlebars as it went down.

My instant emotion was not pain; but, being British, embarrassment at having caused a scene and having brought attention to myself. I quickly brushed off the elderly lady and young man who were asking how I was. I told them I was a bit shocked but otherwise fine, as I was (or so I thought). I picked up my keys, which had been ripped from my rear wheel lock (they sit in whilst the bike is moving), as the lock key was broken in half, one half remaining in the lock.

I scurried round the corner to assess the real damage and to take my bike to the shop to be repaired (new rear lock and new pedal €27,50). En route I started to notice a dull ache in my elbow, which I  must have landed on, that my jeans were torn and that my hand was bloody. I washed off the blood but as I sat by the canal in the sun waiting for my bike to be fixed, the pain in my arm grew steadily worse. I thought it was just bruised and was stiffening up, but then I realised I only had about a 5cm range of movement and that it was at an odd angle. 

After much deliberation, I found myself in the A&E of the local hospital with a friend from work for company (and to translate if there were any misunderstandings). Thanks to my European Health Card there were no forms to fill in - another advantage of being in the EU, stupid Daily Mail. There was a 5-minute wait to see the nurse, whose job it was to twist and poke my arm in ways designed to extract the maximum amount of moaning and grimacing on my part. 10 minutes later I was being x-rayed, 10 minutes after that a doctor (who didn't look much older than me) was telling me in flawless English that I had fractured the head of the radius and had fractured my ulna as well.  

So, that's why I'm sitting here in a sling, frustrated at being unable to do anything. I want to get back on my bike, I want to be able to cook, I want to go the gym, I want to be able to stretch my fingers. All these simple little things that I didn't even think about before Tuesday...

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