can’t wait and scared too…
Six months ago today, I found myself upside down with Blue on top of me three-feet below pavement level in a ditch.
I was scared. More so after I watched a UPS van pass by on the far side of the road without the driver seeing my predicament. When that happened, I knew my prospects were bleak if I didn’t get out from underneath the bike.
I also didn’t know how injured I was.
The ER x-rays showed no broken bones. I thank my good gear for that.
“But you’ve likely got a fair bit of soft tissue damage,” the ER doc said. “It’s going to take you some time to heal.”
I didn’t ask him what he meant by ‘some time.’ Perhaps I should have. In the days immediately following the collision, I was miserable. I didn’t sleep much and couldn’t walk more than a few steps for the better part of several weeks. The opiates they gave me did little to ease the pain and eventually I stopped taking them in favour of Advil and Tylenol every four to six hours.
Amazingly, I got back on the bike in mid-August, though I felt like a complete novice. I wasn’t sure if I would make it to the stop sign, let alone around the block.
I made it to the stop sign and beyond. Phew!
I started physio, stretching, walking and massage. I rode short distances for the next three months, stopping frequently to roll around on my back and rest. I had some pain-free rides – ones where I felt I could keep going forever. They were few and far between.
Now, it’s 2025, and, theoretically at least, the start of this year’s season is only about ten weeks away. Twelve at most.
As much as I can’t wait to ride again, a part of me is afraid. Not so much of riding (although there is a bit of that), but of the pain that would ensue if I have yet another collision.
Thankfully, the past few days have been relatively pain free, which is a blessing I hope bodes well for the spring, summer and fall. I have been thankful to finally be able to sneeze without feeling as if someone is stabbing me in the ribcage with dagger. Baby steps.
I’m a good rider, I wear good gear all the time, I ride safely and I mitigate risk in every way I can. Most important, I take responsibility for my behaviour on the bike and I am aware and watchful. All of that said, there’s no getting around the facts that motorcycle riding is risky and destiny is out of our control.
Over the past six months, I have learned how debilitating chronic pain can be. Yes, it’s physically draining. But (in some ways worse), it’s also mentally and emotionally exhausting. It wears you down. Grinds away at your spirit. Gnaws at your ability to remain positive like a dog worrying a bone. And because it can’t be readily observed by those around us, it may be hard for them to fully appreciate how challenging it is.
At my age (almost 68 + 1), healing from accidents and/or illnesses is a long process and full recovery is definitely not guaranteed. Here’s hoping 2025 will be a safe riding season for me and everyone else.
