I should not be telling you this...
This isn't an attempt at being coy or reserved. I have no right to sit here and tell you what I did on Halloween 2012.
Halloween, the day after a full moon. That woman and those two little boys had been away for a few days at Grandma's house in Wiltshire and were coming home. We would go trick or treating or I'd hand out candy to kids that looked to old to be getting handout candy. That is another story.
I was excited. Excited to see them. It was Halloween! The boys had been counting down to it for weeks and it is without a doubt my favorite holiday. After agonizing over if we had enough candy and rushing around the City of London looking for essentially what I could get at a cheap store at home, I decided we had enough. I jumped on my bike, turned on the Garmin to record the journey for Strava and headed home.
It was dark and raining at around 5ish. I went over Blackfriars Bridge, through Kennington, Clapham North, Common and South and then to Balham...this I remember.
From there I had a 43.39 min rest just before Tooting Bec
and then carried on to St Georges Hospital in Tooting (data courtesy of the clever EMT that put the Garmin in my pocket)...
I don't remember going to the hospital. I remember feeling the rain on my face and someone shining a flashlight in my eyes. I could hear the sounds of traffic and I was snugly bound up. Out of the corner of my eye I could see blue lights dancing in the windows of a building. I heard a mans voice say "Mr Russell. Try not to move. Mr Russell, you've had a very bad accident. If you can hear me then blink."
I blinked. (and wiggled my toes to make sure I could)
"OK we are going to move you in a minute. Do you know a number we can call?" Somehow I managed to conjure up the home number.
Then it all goes again.
I don't remember anything until I woke up after A&E in a small room. Rachel and Matt were in there. I do not remember much except thinking: WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE DOING IN HERE?
Apparently I had been involved in a hit and run with a white van.
I was the hit.
They had been excitedly waiting for me to turn up on Halloween and all they got was a phone call from the police. I can't imagine what that must have felt like. I was out for a long time and a lot of people have not woken up from less. I have no recollection of being hit or pain or anything. To think that they could have gone off for half term break and I never said goodbye properly is pretty upsetting.
I should be dead.
I said goodbye to Rachel and Matt and they took me to the trauma ward.
On the way there I thought about that. I know what I do has risks. I am always trying to minimize them. I ride my bike a lot. I rely on it. Over seven thousand miles last year. It is kept in very good condition and I don't gamble on the roads. Then it dawned on me. It's not me. No matter what I do, there is someone out there who is late or drunk or changing channels or talking on the phone. Someone who thinks driving is a right and not a privilege.
I thought about a woman from earlier in the year. She was a Biology teacher at my old High School in Fairport, NY. . Heather Boyum. She was a triathlete that lived on the same street I grew up on and where I still go home to. She was out on a training ride one Sunday at a time in the morning which should have guaranteed that she was going to have little traffic and not miss too much time with the sleeping family. However, there were two other people out. One on a motorcycle and one in a car who hadn't gone to bed yet. They were drunk and driving around. For fun. Neither of them had a license or were insured to do so but felt that IT WAS THEIR RIGHT to drive.
Her family never saw her again.
I got to the trauma ward and they put me in the room. The Nurse Practitioner came to stitch me up. I might not have felt pain from the crash but someone sticking needles in your upper lip hurts like hell.
I could feel the hole in my upper lip where the teeth went through. Three of my teeth on the top were cracked. One half the original size. My ribs hurt, my neck was horribly stiff and my left hand was swollen. When the nurse had finished I'd had over 30 stitches. Some inside my upper lip.
It was now 4:50am. I had missed Halloween altogether. I was swabbed off a bit, given pain killers and then a shot of morphine. Not a needle. A syringe that you squirt in your mouth. I felt great!
I looked like shit...
I felt this overwhelming sense of joy to be alive. I walked around the room and talked to some of the others that were awake. I sat with them and listened to their stories. One man had fallen off a ladder and broken his back. One had fallen down the stairs and broken his neck. There was another one with a broken neck. One with a head injury that had been riding his motorcycle and swerved to avoid a badger. One man who got hit at speed while crossing the road. He said "There can't be a god". I sat down. I needed to hear this. He asked me if I believe in god. I told him that no matter what you believe in, everyone in this room should be dead. If it wasn't for a few inches here or there we'd be in another part of the hospital. He then went on to say "Whetherspoon Pubs do a good value Christmas lunch". He was just gifted the miracle of life and he is getting moist over the savings he will get during the holiday period? Ah, morphine.
I found out that I would have visitors later that afternoon. I didn't get to spend Halloween with them but they boys were coming to see their Frankenstein father and I was excited. So I didn't make this Halloween. There would be others! I was so happy to be alive.
They came in around 5pm. They walked towards me. I could see on their faces the horror and relief. They were kind of gentle and respectful (which is completely out of character). They brought some clothes and slippers (Monster feet. They were an instant hit). We went to get some sandwiches and things downstairs. It was really hard to eat with stitched lips and sore teeth but so lovely to see them.
I couldn't stop looking at them. All of them. I didn't care if I looked like a freak. I was so full of life it was just a magical feeling.
We said goodbye. Because I'd been knocked out for some time I'd have to stay in another night. They left me with a phone charger, treats and a copy of Private Eye. Between that and the morphine I had a good night ahead of me. HOWEVER, there was another person brought in in the night that made sure that all of us, including the lovely hospital staff knew what a foul person he was.
The next day I got a cast put on my left hand. I hung out with the ward gang and joked with the amazing nurses and doctors. We'd all secretly dreamt of tickling the feet of the foul mouthed horrible guy with the broken neck that was brought in during the night. We resisted.
Later that day I was discharged and went home. The boys put on their monster feet and all of us in monster feet sat close together on the couch.
In the last few days I have been noticing how beautiful things are. All the lovely people in my life that are so special. Even the little things. I know I take things for granted sometimes. I am going to work on that the most. Whatever I hold on to from this event, I hope this feeling of appreciation stays with me until the end.
The police may never find the person that hit me. That burden they must carry now is heavier than any fine or jail time could make them carry.
Besides...I am not dead. Whoever you are, you could be found.
No, I am just over the moon to be alive and have the chance to tell you this story.
I'm on the mend and mending well.
Postscript: Do KOM's on Strava count if you are in an ambulance? I mean you kind of earned them...
Halloween, the day after a full moon. That woman and those two little boys had been away for a few days at Grandma's house in Wiltshire and were coming home. We would go trick or treating or I'd hand out candy to kids that looked to old to be getting handout candy. That is another story.
I was excited. Excited to see them. It was Halloween! The boys had been counting down to it for weeks and it is without a doubt my favorite holiday. After agonizing over if we had enough candy and rushing around the City of London looking for essentially what I could get at a cheap store at home, I decided we had enough. I jumped on my bike, turned on the Garmin to record the journey for Strava and headed home.
It was dark and raining at around 5ish. I went over Blackfriars Bridge, through Kennington, Clapham North, Common and South and then to Balham...this I remember.
From there I had a 43.39 min rest just before Tooting Bec
and then carried on to St Georges Hospital in Tooting (data courtesy of the clever EMT that put the Garmin in my pocket)...
I don't remember going to the hospital. I remember feeling the rain on my face and someone shining a flashlight in my eyes. I could hear the sounds of traffic and I was snugly bound up. Out of the corner of my eye I could see blue lights dancing in the windows of a building. I heard a mans voice say "Mr Russell. Try not to move. Mr Russell, you've had a very bad accident. If you can hear me then blink."
I blinked. (and wiggled my toes to make sure I could)
"OK we are going to move you in a minute. Do you know a number we can call?" Somehow I managed to conjure up the home number.
Then it all goes again.
I don't remember anything until I woke up after A&E in a small room. Rachel and Matt were in there. I do not remember much except thinking: WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE DOING IN HERE?
Apparently I had been involved in a hit and run with a white van.
I was the hit.
They had been excitedly waiting for me to turn up on Halloween and all they got was a phone call from the police. I can't imagine what that must have felt like. I was out for a long time and a lot of people have not woken up from less. I have no recollection of being hit or pain or anything. To think that they could have gone off for half term break and I never said goodbye properly is pretty upsetting.
I should be dead.
I said goodbye to Rachel and Matt and they took me to the trauma ward.
On the way there I thought about that. I know what I do has risks. I am always trying to minimize them. I ride my bike a lot. I rely on it. Over seven thousand miles last year. It is kept in very good condition and I don't gamble on the roads. Then it dawned on me. It's not me. No matter what I do, there is someone out there who is late or drunk or changing channels or talking on the phone. Someone who thinks driving is a right and not a privilege.
I thought about a woman from earlier in the year. She was a Biology teacher at my old High School in Fairport, NY. . Heather Boyum. She was a triathlete that lived on the same street I grew up on and where I still go home to. She was out on a training ride one Sunday at a time in the morning which should have guaranteed that she was going to have little traffic and not miss too much time with the sleeping family. However, there were two other people out. One on a motorcycle and one in a car who hadn't gone to bed yet. They were drunk and driving around. For fun. Neither of them had a license or were insured to do so but felt that IT WAS THEIR RIGHT to drive.
Her family never saw her again.
I got to the trauma ward and they put me in the room. The Nurse Practitioner came to stitch me up. I might not have felt pain from the crash but someone sticking needles in your upper lip hurts like hell.
I could feel the hole in my upper lip where the teeth went through. Three of my teeth on the top were cracked. One half the original size. My ribs hurt, my neck was horribly stiff and my left hand was swollen. When the nurse had finished I'd had over 30 stitches. Some inside my upper lip.
It was now 4:50am. I had missed Halloween altogether. I was swabbed off a bit, given pain killers and then a shot of morphine. Not a needle. A syringe that you squirt in your mouth. I felt great!
I looked like shit...
I felt this overwhelming sense of joy to be alive. I walked around the room and talked to some of the others that were awake. I sat with them and listened to their stories. One man had fallen off a ladder and broken his back. One had fallen down the stairs and broken his neck. There was another one with a broken neck. One with a head injury that had been riding his motorcycle and swerved to avoid a badger. One man who got hit at speed while crossing the road. He said "There can't be a god". I sat down. I needed to hear this. He asked me if I believe in god. I told him that no matter what you believe in, everyone in this room should be dead. If it wasn't for a few inches here or there we'd be in another part of the hospital. He then went on to say "Whetherspoon Pubs do a good value Christmas lunch". He was just gifted the miracle of life and he is getting moist over the savings he will get during the holiday period? Ah, morphine.
I found out that I would have visitors later that afternoon. I didn't get to spend Halloween with them but they boys were coming to see their Frankenstein father and I was excited. So I didn't make this Halloween. There would be others! I was so happy to be alive.
They came in around 5pm. They walked towards me. I could see on their faces the horror and relief. They were kind of gentle and respectful (which is completely out of character). They brought some clothes and slippers (Monster feet. They were an instant hit). We went to get some sandwiches and things downstairs. It was really hard to eat with stitched lips and sore teeth but so lovely to see them.
I couldn't stop looking at them. All of them. I didn't care if I looked like a freak. I was so full of life it was just a magical feeling.
We said goodbye. Because I'd been knocked out for some time I'd have to stay in another night. They left me with a phone charger, treats and a copy of Private Eye. Between that and the morphine I had a good night ahead of me. HOWEVER, there was another person brought in in the night that made sure that all of us, including the lovely hospital staff knew what a foul person he was.
The next day I got a cast put on my left hand. I hung out with the ward gang and joked with the amazing nurses and doctors. We'd all secretly dreamt of tickling the feet of the foul mouthed horrible guy with the broken neck that was brought in during the night. We resisted.
Later that day I was discharged and went home. The boys put on their monster feet and all of us in monster feet sat close together on the couch.
In the last few days I have been noticing how beautiful things are. All the lovely people in my life that are so special. Even the little things. I know I take things for granted sometimes. I am going to work on that the most. Whatever I hold on to from this event, I hope this feeling of appreciation stays with me until the end.
 |
| Cut off in ER: the delights my family would get if I didn't come back |
 |
| Poor bag |
 |
| Gulp |
 |
| Where's my bloody keys? |
 |
| Fairport T |
The police may never find the person that hit me. That burden they must carry now is heavier than any fine or jail time could make them carry.
Besides...I am not dead. Whoever you are, you could be found.
No, I am just over the moon to be alive and have the chance to tell you this story.
I'm on the mend and mending well.
 |
| Fish lips |
Postscript: Do KOM's on Strava count if you are in an ambulance? I mean you kind of earned them...
Comments
Post a Comment
Post up