Official diagnosis at the hospital yesterday morning: "blunt chest trauma."
Yep, as you might have heard, I had a big bike accident, falling
straight into a ditch, at 6:10 am yesterday (Friday, December 13th). It was
cold and dark outside, where I was rendered momentarily incapacitated under a
bridge/freeway overpass.
Today, I feel like I've been in a 12-round boxing match. And lost. Down for the count, and pounded to the core of
my being. I’m tender, sore, and very
stiff everywhere. Arms, legs, ankle,
neck, ribs, back, and very much in the chest.
It could have been much worse, so I count
myself as lucky, though getting the wind knocked out of you is not fun.
And, yes, I was wearing my bike helmet. And, yes, I did have a light illuminating the
eerie pre-dawn paved streets and bike/hike trail I was on. And, definitely, yes, I was proceeding carefully,
deliberately, and slower than usual because I hadn’t traversed this area since
before Icemaggedon 2014 had hit Fort Worth.
The Trinity Bike/Hike Trail along the river, just north of Rosedale
(where Ole South is located) and the I-30 overpass has seen its share of
detours and reroutings over the past year because of the ongoing construction
(of a new overpass). I’ve been aware of
this because this area is part of my weekly route to/from my workplace in the
Museum District.
Yesterday, however, proper signage and warning apparatus
(e.g., bright orange plastic fencing, caution barrels, and the like) were not
in place to prevent what happened to me.
And even with all the personal cyclist precautions that I had in place,
I wasn’t able to keep myself from injury and accident. I was pissed, frustrated, and upset about
this--as I lay in the cold muddy hole in which I inadvertently pitched
myself. You see the hole was just big
and deep enough for my front bike tire to get wedged, when--with headlamp on
the high setting and at a slow speed--I began to notice that the pavement
abruptly ended and led to a dirt section at a drop-off that seemed shallow
enough to maneuver through. Wrong. I fell pell-mell with the front end of my
bike, toppling directly onto the handlebars, chest first. I immediately felt the cessation of breath,
as my lungs likely imploded with the impact, and a panic overtook me. Shallow breathing and immediate pain in my
shoulders, ribs, and back alarmed me, as I stiffly reached for the phone deep
in my right pocket. Thankfully, I had a
full charge on the device and the cognitive capacity to report my status and
geographic location to the 911 dispatch operator, who directed me to stay on
the line to help navigate the emergency responders through the park in order to
find me in the semi-darkness.
After a quick check of my vitals, and a huddle with the
firemen and EMTs at my side, it was decided that I should be carried to the
hospital for x-rays--in case I’d actually broken something or suffered a lung
perforation or the like. Me and my bike
had a speedy ride to JPS (John Peter Smith) hospital, where a very nice doctor
eventually conveyed the good news that my chest/lung x-ray showed nothing that
warranted treatment beyond 800 mg. Ibuprofen and an anti-inflammatory
medication. And the nurse reminded me of
what I already knew; the inflammation, pain, and discomfort are generally worse
on the second (and even third) day after the initial body trauma.
I’m really feeling that to be true today.
