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| On a "biker chix" trip properly wearing my gloves and helmet |
Some like to travel along a dusty gravel road, it sounds poetic and country all at the same time. I too like to travel a dusty gravel road on my bike. Though I have been down the said road on my bike more than an estimated thousand times I have never encountered a problem. That all changed on May 22 when I traveled down the road on my bike to get the mail, and to my dismay skidded on gravel at the bottom of the hill, fell hard, smacking my entire left side. It happened in seconds. I hit the road Jack and in the worst way possible.
Because I was wearing my helmet what could have been a catastrophe was only a small disaster. The impact pushed my helmet up and I hit my head and scraped my face rather badly. I do not recommend a gravel exfoliation. Also because I was only going to fetch the mail I didn't bring my cell phone. There I was battered and bruised with no possibility of calling for help. Though a mile from my home I had to get back on that horse and ride home. Being ever dutiful I got the mail. Then slowly and literally chanting aloud, "I'm fine, I'm going to be OK..." over and over again I pedaled my way homeward. I was too stunned to be in great pain and at that moment all I could think about was getting into a hot bath and picking out the repulsive amount of gravel that laced my hands [no gloves!] elbow, face and leg. I rode by my husband who was busily cutting firewood, showed him my hands and then when in the house, limped upstairs to get in the much desired bath.
After about a half hour Mr. G came upstairs to see how I was doing. He was appalled at my condition and this was before my face started to swell. He hadn't realized how bad it was and I hadn't wanted to stop and explain. The last thing in the world I desired was to go to the ER--- I didn't lose consciousness, and I wasn't nauseated. Yet the next day I was in pain and a friend called and told me just for safety's sake to go see a doctor. So I did. I had a CT scan, he reviewed my bandages and looked over my various wounds told me to take Aleve plus Tylenol. I slept very well that night. The scan was fine, thank goodness.
But my face! Horror of horrors. Ironically I helped start the "volunteers against violence" in our small town and I looked for all the world as though I was in need of their services. So I rested Friday the 23rd but on Saturday the 24th my friends were going on a hike and I felt OK to go with them. It really was a gentle 3 mile hike and the day was sunny and fine. We hiked around a small mountain lake, had lunch on a picnic table sharing great food as only women can. After the hike we went to a very beautiful though quite eccentric art museum in a private home. That did push the envelope and everything started to pulse and ache. Fortunately I had the pills and made it through. I lazed around Sunday and Monday my body chastizing me for overdoing it.
On Tuesday we celebrated our anniversary with a lunch out, then went to our oldest son's house for an overnight. When my grandkids saw my face the 13 year old granddaughter said, "very colorful". Being an athelete she had seen many a shiner on others. Not so for my 9 year old grandson, he couldn't even look at me. Finally I talked to him about it, telling him the above story and also reassuring him that I was going to be OK. I did look scary.
We were flying out the next day to see our younger son and his kids. I was all prepared with witty lines to any questioning person such as, "you should have seen the other guy," "I'm suing my dermatologist", "what? there's something on my face?" We went through the airport seeing hundreds of people, hundreds. Mr. G got lots of angry stares but me, not one person asked or remarked on my rather stunning appearance.
You might think this is fine to turn away from the wounded. Frankly it felt weird. Granted not many people, especially men notice women over the age of 50. We do become rather invisible. However, not to say anything...?!
When I was with the other grands they were also fairly non plussed by my appearance but did notice. All of my son's friends who I was introduced to pretended not to notice. I finally took to saying, "I just had a bike accident." My younger son said, "Mom, this is Marin county, people just suspect you've had 'work' done." Well, I thought to myself, they sure as hell are not going to ask me where.
A couple of friends asked me, "what did you learn from this adventure?" I learned when biking to always have my cell phone, to wear my gloves as well as my helmet and when I encounter wash board on a gravel road, get off the bike and walk. One of my tragic flaws is to overdo it, and I'm working on not doing that in the future. I also hereby resolve to gently ask anyone who looks injured, "what happened?" because truly to be ignored when you are hurting is just silly.
susansmagicfeather 2015 copyright Susan R. Grout all rights reserved
