I spent some more time at The Arch that Monday morning, July 19, before rolling out of the Hilton parking garage (thanks brother!) in pursuit of my westward journey. It's a lovely place to stroll and it truly is an engineering marvel. Standing below and looking up, I saw others experience its
dizzying effects. There are so many things to see in our country, and I was trying to remember each small slice that I was privileged to encounter.
Apparently I had stumbled onto part of Route 66 as I rolled along, so of course I had to get a shot! It turned out to be the last photo taken on my long anticipated sabbatical adventure.
A couple hours later i was sensing the beginning of hunger pains and growing weary of the too-close -for-comfort company of what appeared to be a semi tractor trailer truck in my mirrors. Nonetheless I was having a blast - I couldn't believe I had actually embarked on this trip as part of my sabbatical exploration of pilgrimage. I was nearly half way to Borderlands Ranch located in the Black Hills of South Dakota where I would reflect on the Lakota Way, spirituality of the land, and continue to discern what might be next for me.
US 50 West was a fun road with a few hills, gentle curves and sporadic straightaways. Nothing crazy, just a nice blend of varied terrain across the "Show Me State." Its two lanes through farms didn't provide many places to pull over and allow the truck to pass, so when a sign appeared announcing a Road Side Park in five miles, I figured that was my chance. I would pull off, allowing the truck to move on down the road while I had a Kashi bar and stretch break. Another sign appeared as a half mile warning for the park and a peeled my eyes for it. Signaling and slowing in preparation for the left turn to enter the park on the gravel drive, I was carefully calculating my speed and projected turning radius as I again glanced in the left mirror - only to see it completely filled with the cab of the truck...no sky, no pavement...only metal and glass of what had now grown to feel like a predator with me in sight as its prey.
Apparently 15-20 minutes later, I awoke on my back feeling really rested and thinking I'd just had an awesome nap, but couldn't figure out why I would take a nap in my helmet. Then I glanced to the right to see my bike on its side and realized two men were crouched over me, "Oh, no, my Dad is going to be so mad. This is what they feared...I'm down."
The gentleman over me held a walkie talkie and told me paramedics were on the way. I knew instinctively without yet truly feeling the pain that moving my left arm was not an option. As the significance of what had just happened began to dawn on me, I think I intentionally looked down at my feet and tried to move them...Thank God! They moved!
A highway patrolman crouched down to take my
statement and was quickly gone. Another man crouched about 6-10 feet away at my feet peering through the men over me but never spoke directly to me. I believe he may have been the tailgating truck driver who just slammed into me - obliterating not only this month of the sabbatical i'd spent one year planning and raising funds for but most likely my other parts of the three month sabbatical, including a class at St George's College in Jerusalem which would have taken me to the deserts and monasteries of Jordan and Egypt, including Mt Sinai. Beyond that, I had no idea how severely this would impact the job search I needed to initiate.
Sirens drew new and it was surreal to realize they were coming for me. The following minutes, and for that matter days, were a blur of activity, people and tests. I was driven to St Mary's in Jefferson City and subsequently helicoptered to University Hospital in Columbia where the medical frenzy continued.
Over the next several hours I remained on the backboard in the neck collar while multiple teams of physicians and nurses determined treatments and we awaited word on when I could go into surgery. Consequently, my repeated requests for something to quench my extreme thirst were denied until it was decided my elbow operation would not be until Wednesday. That procedure alone would last at least four hours. The hand surgery would occur the following Monday and take over two hours. I am now the proud owner of assorted plates and screws in addition to a prognosis of extreme arthritis and eventually another surgery to remove the bone in my hand/thumb due to the anticipated severity of the arthritis.
Those first days included fading in and out of sleep, headaches from the concussion - which included some bleeding on the brain - and nausea every time they moved my bed. I've never been a back sleeper, but being in the cervical collar with thoracic extensions for my three fractured vertebrae didn't offer me an option or the ability to adjust my position. Leaning to the side to relieve the hot spots or needing to use the bathroom required me to ring for assistance in getting out of bed. Thank God I was able to walk. I wonder what the truck driver was doing?
I am so grateful to all who helped with my medical care: first responders, paramedics, air transport, doctors, nurses, radiologists, food service, IV specialist, physical and occupational therapists. It's impossible to remember them all, but I tried to retain as many as I could: Beth, Teresa, Kathy, Connie, Dan, Bill, Megan, Amanda, Julie, Dana, Francisco, Mohammed, James, Brett, Brandon, TJ (who provided me with some golf conversation...you're still crazy for playing everyday!).
After one week in the hospital, my parents and I spent another week in a hotel dealing with details - including a visit to the crash site. My sister arranged a flight for them so they were at the hospital the evening after the accident, That must have been the longest 24 hours they have experienced, I can't thank them enough for what they have done and continue to do for me. Eventually we arrived in Raleigh at my sister's for a week of rest before returning to Charlotte for the first round of follow up doctor visits...thank you Paul, Steve and Bruce!
I did everything I could to prepare for the safety of this trip: classes, practice hours on the bike, mechanical tune ups, extra lights on the bike, full safety gear - including hi-viz clothing, but none of that matters if someone tailgates you, is inattentive, thinks they have more right to the road than you, and that you are in their way if you are NOT speeding.
I must say I feel like I've been thrust into my own 'Truman Show." All i wanted to do was explore the country and stretch my wings a bit - to get away from the routine and discern the evolving changes in recent life events. But somewhere someone cued the semi and sucked me back into the set. I went from enjoying the privilege of solitude - time and space to simply be and reflect, to the chaos and confinement of 24/7 care. Mind you, I am grateful for the support and network...I'm just still trying to adjust to it.
Look twice, save a life, pay attention, and BACK OFF...motorcycles are everywhere.
Journey On!
This is me on Mt. Evans Road in Colorado...the highest paved auto road in North America, August 2009
