At home I felt pretty rubbish. There was a spiky bit of bone poking up a little, my ribs were all clicky and bruised and worst of all, my sore throat had returned. I spent an unpleasant few days on the sofa, pretty much 24 hours a day, as there was no way I could get in and out of bed. The ribs were the big issue with mobility, but I was pretty sure it was just bruising.
Elaine took a couple of days off to nurse me, and a very pregnant Liz came over on the Tuesday. Thankfully she didn't go into labour and I'd have been useless. I've no idea where we keep our clean towels.
On the Wednesday, six days after the fall, I visited the fracture clinic in Basingstoke. After another x-ray they put me in one of the consulting rooms, where I could hear the shouts of incredulity from the office outside where they were looking at the x-ray. "How did he do it?", "Nasty, what's that bit there" and "clearly a high-energy impact" were a few key phrases. As the consultant came into the room I was expecting to be rushed to surgery immediately.
Actually, it was quite a reasoned discussion. I got the impression that they really recommended surgery, but didn't want to push me into it. I could see myself that if it healed in its current position I had a future as a sideshow geek, so with the immortal words "sharpen the scalpel and get out the Meccano" I was told to be "nil by mouth" from midnight and report by 0730 the next day. I then had a pre-op once over by a very pleasant doctor, including my first ever blood test, and was sent home to get my affairs in order.
The next morning I was up, called to confirm things were still going ahead, and driven to Basingstoke by Dave. He even walked me to the ward, where we were both sure the nurses assumed he was my "partner". A shout of "give the contact information to Elaine!" hopefully pursuaded them otherwise...
Then... the waiting. They weren't really sure when I was to be sliced, so I spent the morning reading until they confirmed the op time of 13:30. I saw the consultant and the anaesthetist, nothing exciting happened, then I was wheeled down into a pre-theatre area. A few drugs, a bit of a chat ("how did you do it?" "Ooo, nasty"), then it was tim...............zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Urgh. I'm alive. Um, OK, on oxygen. I can see. I can't see loads of scary machines around so I'm probably in recovery rather than ICU. Time... time... they said it would take about an hour for the op, might be about 16:30. Clock. Ah. 19:30. Hang on. Try again. 19:30. WTF? Move a bit. OK, things move. Definitely in recovery, they are talking to me. I'll make some vague noise back. Oxygen mask replaced by little tubes in the nose. Relax. Oh, I'm moving. In the lift, back to the original ward. Cool. Wave at the other bloke who was in for hand surgery. He's got dinner! Bastard. Mine isn't here - too late I guess.
Drink. Get that poxy glass and straw away from me, fill up my Camelbak Podium bottle! I'm a cyclist! Glug glug glug. Glug. Ooo, need to burp. Can't. Fuck, they had to take out my burp muscle! Or maybe it's the anesthetic. Cough a bit. Burp.
Ask for a small slice of toast. They only have one size, so I had that. Can I have some biscuits too, as clearly dinner isn't coming. Glug more. Hurrah! Burp muscle working.
The nurse comes round. Do you need to pee? It's important to pee. I know that. Glug.
Midnight. I reckon I can pee. Get patrolling nurse to pull the curtains so I can stand up and try to go in a cardboard bottle. Squeeze. Dribble. Flow. Uh oh. I'm going to need a bigger bottle.
Try to sleep. Lots of staff around, one poor lady in a lot of pain from fractured vertebrae. Doctors and consultants are called, she stops screaming after a while. I can really sympathise.
Doze. Sleep. Wake up. Breakfast! Bread and jam. Yum.
The next few hours brought a visit from the consultant - he explained it was more complicated than expected, hence the extra time needed. The loose bone fragment had rotated through 180 degrees, so things were a little confusing inside initially. The jigsaw puzzle was back together though, with a plate and some screws. I was sent to x-ray, had a quick chat with a physio, then was more or less kicked out the door.
So here I am - much more comfortable, bone in the correct position, taking things very easy. I've had my first follow up physio and have a post op check at the fracture clinic scheduled for 8th Feb. Boredom is really kicking in now, so I might even do a little "working from home" next week.
I've still got a slight sore throat though.
Saturday, 29 January 2011
Thursday, 27 January 2011
Full Circle, Part 2:The Aftermath
Arriving at A&E after a 30 minute ride (sadly lacking in sirens) I was whisked past the waiting hordes straight into an examination area. I took up the offer of a couple of mild painkillers and soon realised that just because I was in an exam room it didn't mean anything would happen quickly. After half an hour or so a nurse helped me out of my cycling kit without resort to scissors - good job too, as I was in my favourite gilet and LEJOG Peugeot top. I was given a fetching gown and sent off down the corridor with some vague directions to X-ray. I guess they figured that as I'd found the hospital I was perfectly capable of finding the right department by myself.
X-ray was efficient - no queue - though I was a bit concerned when the radiologist told me to keep my necklace off as "they might want to do something to you...".
It's not a good sign when on seeing your X-ray the doctor can't figure out which way up your insides are and then starts paging all the other doctors with the words "Holy fuck, have a look at this!". Slight exageration, but I did end up with three of them acting like back street mechanics... "Ooooo, this is gonna cost you guv".
Let's have a look:
What was once one bone is now three. Handily one of the docs was a keen cyclist (time trials, mainly) and after the preliminary comparison of bike collections he was able to explain how this wasn't a good break and that it would probably need metalwork. He'd had similar himself so was able to cover healing times, affect on training ability and that having shortened collarbones really helps a riders time-trial position as they could get narrower on the bike. The orthopedic reg arrived and said similar, but decided to send me home as they'd review over coffee and muffins in the morning and let me know.
So, after causing some amusement in the waiting room in my gown and bib shorts combination, we departed for Newbury, Darren driving.
Did I mention that Darren was in pain? Lots of pain, so a big thanks for getting me back home.
Next... why the words "high energy impact" are rarely the precursor of good news.
X-ray was efficient - no queue - though I was a bit concerned when the radiologist told me to keep my necklace off as "they might want to do something to you...".
It's not a good sign when on seeing your X-ray the doctor can't figure out which way up your insides are and then starts paging all the other doctors with the words "Holy fuck, have a look at this!". Slight exageration, but I did end up with three of them acting like back street mechanics... "Ooooo, this is gonna cost you guv".
Let's have a look:
What was once one bone is now three. Handily one of the docs was a keen cyclist (time trials, mainly) and after the preliminary comparison of bike collections he was able to explain how this wasn't a good break and that it would probably need metalwork. He'd had similar himself so was able to cover healing times, affect on training ability and that having shortened collarbones really helps a riders time-trial position as they could get narrower on the bike. The orthopedic reg arrived and said similar, but decided to send me home as they'd review over coffee and muffins in the morning and let me know.
So, after causing some amusement in the waiting room in my gown and bib shorts combination, we departed for Newbury, Darren driving.
Did I mention that Darren was in pain? Lots of pain, so a big thanks for getting me back home.
Next... why the words "high energy impact" are rarely the precursor of good news.
Tuesday, 25 January 2011
Full Circle, Part 1:The Accident
I started this blog when I dislocated my right shoulder and was stuck inside instead of riding in the open air. I had my arm in a sling for much of the time and typing was often one-handed.
Guess what?
I'd recovered from my virus and back/neck spasm just enough to do a couple of gentle rides and to feel that I could handle a trip to the velodrome, if I took things easy. So Darren and I set off on the usual post-work trek down to Calshot. The freezing weather had been replaced by moderate rain and the temperature and humidity had risen considerably. Arriving at the velodrome things felt a little... slow. Lots of sitting around and the coach wandering about the track. There was also a bit of dampness on the floor, most obvious on the vinyl centre of the track.
Coach explained that the change in the weather had caused a lot of condensation in the velodrome, and there were a few drips of water on the track. They sent a man with a brush round and the coach rode a dozen laps himself to check things out. He reported things felt fine so we mounted up carefully on the inner wooden boards and started the warm up.
I felt pretty good and ended up leading. We were doing "through and off", where the lead rider pulls up the banking, letting the line of riders pass below. A rider up the banking has further to travel and hence takes longer to do a lap. Once everyone has passed he rejoins the line at the back. I pulled up, slowed slightly, cruised round and rejoined. This happened a few more times until an unnamed rider (let's call him, um, Dappen) pulled up.
As the line passed under Dappen, I noticed out of the corner of my eye his back wheel slide out. Bear in mind he was above me and slightly in front. He then tumbled over and slid down the track, neatly sliding into my front wheel and transforming me from forward and upright into forward and slamming shoulder first into the boards.
Not good.
Head hits boards. Little stars. Shouting. Hard breathing. There's something poking out by my collarbone.
Sounds of another crash on the far bend.
Ambulance? Yes please. Alert and concious? Unfortunately, very.
Accident forms. Darren (sorry, Dappen) also hurt, he was hit by me at 20mph. Two others had slid out and crashed on the other side of the track. Paramedics. Shock. Energy gel. Freezing cold in lycra, shivering like you would not believe. Proper cartoon shivering with chattering teeth.
Ambulance ride to Southampton A&E. Darren follows in my car, clearly in pain from a very nasty scrape down his back.
I wonder how this is going to turn out...
Guess what?
I'd recovered from my virus and back/neck spasm just enough to do a couple of gentle rides and to feel that I could handle a trip to the velodrome, if I took things easy. So Darren and I set off on the usual post-work trek down to Calshot. The freezing weather had been replaced by moderate rain and the temperature and humidity had risen considerably. Arriving at the velodrome things felt a little... slow. Lots of sitting around and the coach wandering about the track. There was also a bit of dampness on the floor, most obvious on the vinyl centre of the track.
Coach explained that the change in the weather had caused a lot of condensation in the velodrome, and there were a few drips of water on the track. They sent a man with a brush round and the coach rode a dozen laps himself to check things out. He reported things felt fine so we mounted up carefully on the inner wooden boards and started the warm up.
I felt pretty good and ended up leading. We were doing "through and off", where the lead rider pulls up the banking, letting the line of riders pass below. A rider up the banking has further to travel and hence takes longer to do a lap. Once everyone has passed he rejoins the line at the back. I pulled up, slowed slightly, cruised round and rejoined. This happened a few more times until an unnamed rider (let's call him, um, Dappen) pulled up.
As the line passed under Dappen, I noticed out of the corner of my eye his back wheel slide out. Bear in mind he was above me and slightly in front. He then tumbled over and slid down the track, neatly sliding into my front wheel and transforming me from forward and upright into forward and slamming shoulder first into the boards.
Not good.
Head hits boards. Little stars. Shouting. Hard breathing. There's something poking out by my collarbone.
Sounds of another crash on the far bend.
Ambulance? Yes please. Alert and concious? Unfortunately, very.
Accident forms. Darren (sorry, Dappen) also hurt, he was hit by me at 20mph. Two others had slid out and crashed on the other side of the track. Paramedics. Shock. Energy gel. Freezing cold in lycra, shivering like you would not believe. Proper cartoon shivering with chattering teeth.
Ambulance ride to Southampton A&E. Darren follows in my car, clearly in pain from a very nasty scrape down his back.
I wonder how this is going to turn out...
Thursday, 6 January 2011
Broken and bored
After a good lot of training last week, where I managed six sessions in four days, I broke.
My first breakage was possibly maybe caused by the two sessions on New Year's Eve - a strength session in the gym followed a couple of hours later by a hill climbing session on the singlespeed. Both of these stress the upper back and during the course of NYE my back/neck interface started to tighten and stiffen until I could barely move without crying like a kitten. A particularly pathetic kitten. This put an end to the three rides I had planned for the weekend.
My second breakage started about the same time with my throat getting dry and sore. This hasn't eased much (maybe a little) and has been joined by those friends of the sore throat; Feeling C. Rappy and Mr Blocke D'Nose. I manfully struggled into work Tuesday and Wednesday but woke this morning feeling more delicate than a Howies Natural Base Layer Light after a boil wash.
So, here I sit at home. The Singletrackworld forum is borked, I slept through the Ashes highlights and I've resorted to watching Alice In Wonderland.
That's a real incentive to get better.
My first breakage was possibly maybe caused by the two sessions on New Year's Eve - a strength session in the gym followed a couple of hours later by a hill climbing session on the singlespeed. Both of these stress the upper back and during the course of NYE my back/neck interface started to tighten and stiffen until I could barely move without crying like a kitten. A particularly pathetic kitten. This put an end to the three rides I had planned for the weekend.
My second breakage started about the same time with my throat getting dry and sore. This hasn't eased much (maybe a little) and has been joined by those friends of the sore throat; Feeling C. Rappy and Mr Blocke D'Nose. I manfully struggled into work Tuesday and Wednesday but woke this morning feeling more delicate than a Howies Natural Base Layer Light after a boil wash.
So, here I sit at home. The Singletrackworld forum is borked, I slept through the Ashes highlights and I've resorted to watching Alice In Wonderland.
That's a real incentive to get better.
Saturday, 1 January 2011
The facts and figures
Thanks to the magic of Training Peaks, I can easily analyse last year. So, my totals are:
Road bike, 321 hours, 9840 km
Mountain bike, 104 hours, 1448 km
Gym, 47 hours
Run, 8 hours (hmm, either I'm not much of a runner or I've been a bit lax logging things)
Total bike riding is therefore 11288 km (7055 miles), 425 hours. Interestingly I've only driven about 5000 miles. Random target for next year - 10000km on the road, 1500km off road.
Oh, and 9 hours running.
Road bike, 321 hours, 9840 km
Mountain bike, 104 hours, 1448 km
Gym, 47 hours
Run, 8 hours (hmm, either I'm not much of a runner or I've been a bit lax logging things)
Total bike riding is therefore 11288 km (7055 miles), 425 hours. Interestingly I've only driven about 5000 miles. Random target for next year - 10000km on the road, 1500km off road.
Oh, and 9 hours running.
Tuesday, 28 December 2010
Post Christmas/Pre New Year Resolution
Some might call this slightly premature, but a resolution this good can't wait until New Year...
About this time, I like to reflect a little on the previous twelve months. And I mean "a little". I'm not a deep reflector, more a puddle on the trail than Loch Ness. So, I scribbled down all the rides that I remembered from the year. Here they are in no particular order. Pay attention, there is a theme.
To ride more with others.
Simple huh? So, anyone up for a ride on New Years Day? Early?
About this time, I like to reflect a little on the previous twelve months. And I mean "a little". I'm not a deep reflector, more a puddle on the trail than Loch Ness. So, I scribbled down all the rides that I remembered from the year. Here they are in no particular order. Pay attention, there is a theme.
- Training rides in the Cotswolds with Jon, especially the one where his mate G bonked and had to be towed home. We then did an extra bit afterwards. This was the pre-ride of the Cotswold Spring Classic route.
- The Cotswold Spring Classic, covered by Cycling Weekly.
- Training rides with Darren that included Streatly Hill.
- The sportive in the New Forest where we lost Dave Brown, waited an age for him, got overtaken by loads of people, gave up waiting then overtook all the loads of people in the final 15 miles.
- LEJOG, obviously, and all the support we received.
- Skills training on the mountain bike.
- The ride with Caroline around the Chilterns, with the sun and the trees and the general English loveliness of it all.
- The 24/12 mixed pair - in fact the whole event, including Darren's solo ride in the Torchbearer 12.
- The four hour enduro in the Autumn where Darren, once again, broke. He still beat me though.
- Doing the Torq 12:12 as part of a deperate last minute recruit to the Torq Development Team.
- The C2C weekend with Darren. I nearly forgot this one, I think I'm trying to blank it out.
To ride more with others.
Simple huh? So, anyone up for a ride on New Years Day? Early?
Sunday, 21 November 2010
"Truth is I need a focus to get me off my fat arse"
I can't claim those words, but they rang true. They came in an email from Phill, an email entitled "Wessex". This referred to the Tour Of Wessex, an end of May three-day sportive. It covers 320 miles over the three days in the Somerset/Dorset area - an area we know pretty well from the infamous Day 2 of the LEJOG.
Naturally I leapt at the chance to enter - lured by the cycling and camping combination - and it seems that Jon and Darren will be riding too. It's almost as if we're getting the band back together. We need some "Mission from God" shirts to wear.
Now, one of the interesting things about the ToW is that you can choose to ride a single stage or a shorter route on a single day. This means that if 320 miles seems a bit much you can still join in the fun and do 23 miles, or 73 miles, or 106 miles, or 117 miles. It really is achieveable for almost anyone who cycles.
So what's stopping you? Join us, and we'll supply the Snickers bars.
Naturally I leapt at the chance to enter - lured by the cycling and camping combination - and it seems that Jon and Darren will be riding too. It's almost as if we're getting the band back together. We need some "Mission from God" shirts to wear.
Now, one of the interesting things about the ToW is that you can choose to ride a single stage or a shorter route on a single day. This means that if 320 miles seems a bit much you can still join in the fun and do 23 miles, or 73 miles, or 106 miles, or 117 miles. It really is achieveable for almost anyone who cycles.
So what's stopping you? Join us, and we'll supply the Snickers bars.
Saturday, 13 November 2010
Hello again!
Posts have been few and far between, mainly due to not having done anything particularly interesting or noteworthy. I did visit Las Vegas where I shot some innocent paper targets with machine guns, and I even found time to ride a bike through Red Rock Canyon.
Yes, it's red and it has rocks in it. Check out the fetching hire bike.
It was pretty good, for a hire bike. Some fool had fitted the brakes the wrong way round though, but that didn't really matter as I barely braked anyway.
Today's ride was a dose of winter reality. From these pictures of the bike after the ride it's difficult to tell whether I was riding on or off-road (apologies for the cross-shifting but I only allowed myself to use the big ring).
And...
Filth, pure filth. I even had to bunnyhop a branch at one point, as an oncoming car prevented me riding round it. Still, if Cav can do it at 50mph, I can do it at 17...
Yes, it's red and it has rocks in it. Check out the fetching hire bike.
It was pretty good, for a hire bike. Some fool had fitted the brakes the wrong way round though, but that didn't really matter as I barely braked anyway.
Today's ride was a dose of winter reality. From these pictures of the bike after the ride it's difficult to tell whether I was riding on or off-road (apologies for the cross-shifting but I only allowed myself to use the big ring).
And...
Filth, pure filth. I even had to bunnyhop a branch at one point, as an oncoming car prevented me riding round it. Still, if Cav can do it at 50mph, I can do it at 17...
Saturday, 9 October 2010
Take a look at what you would have won
And yes, buying one now would be a bit pointless. Still, I have been known to do pointless.
Monday, 27 September 2010
I done a race
Or more correctly, I competed in a race last Sunday.
On a bit of a whim, Darren and I entered the XTM Enduro, a four hour mountain bike race organised as part of an off-road tri/du/mono-athlon weekend. Clearly as I'm not tri or du, I was only interested in the mono side of things - the mountain biking bit.
The main attractions of this race were twofold - it was pretty close (about 40 minutes drive away) and there was a free gold water bottle for all finishers. I'll do a lot for a free gold water bottle. The course was slightly odd, only being 5.5km. Almost like an off-road velodrome. I was concerned about getting dizzy.
The race itself was not unpleasant. The course was moderately interesting with a couple of fun descents and sharp climbs each lap, plus a mix of noodley singletrack and fireroad. It was mildly confusing though as the shortness of the lap kept surprising me - "What, that bit agin? Already?" - was my mantra. I started fairly fast, but not so fast that I'd suffer later. Darren started very fast and I made it my goal not to be lapped by him. I was lapping at about 17-18 minutes, so he'd have to make that up over four hours to catch me.
Round and round... I was overtaking far more than I was being overtaken, and I felt as well as could be expected. Towards the end my legs were teetering on the edge of cramp but they stayed on the edge without leaping over. About 8 minutes before the four hours were up I had a little chat with the guy behind me.
Me: "If we get in before the four hour mark, can we do another lap?" (this is fairly standard for most races)
Him: "No, only laps completed before the four hours count"
Me: (and I quote) "Thank fuck for that"
I crossed the line, had a slightly more interested chat with the other rider, then hunted out Darren, who somehow hadn't managed to lap me.
Darren was broken. Threatening to vomit. Shivering. Not making much sense, even less than usual. Not completely broken, he could still walk to the car to put on more clothes before having a little lie down across the back seats. Apparently he'd slowed down at the two hour mark, and then really slowed down for the last couple of laps. If he ever learns to pace himself properly he'll good at this bike racing business.
We collected our free water bottles.
They weren't real gold.
Bugger.
On a bit of a whim, Darren and I entered the XTM Enduro, a four hour mountain bike race organised as part of an off-road tri/du/mono-athlon weekend. Clearly as I'm not tri or du, I was only interested in the mono side of things - the mountain biking bit.
The main attractions of this race were twofold - it was pretty close (about 40 minutes drive away) and there was a free gold water bottle for all finishers. I'll do a lot for a free gold water bottle. The course was slightly odd, only being 5.5km. Almost like an off-road velodrome. I was concerned about getting dizzy.
The race itself was not unpleasant. The course was moderately interesting with a couple of fun descents and sharp climbs each lap, plus a mix of noodley singletrack and fireroad. It was mildly confusing though as the shortness of the lap kept surprising me - "What, that bit agin? Already?" - was my mantra. I started fairly fast, but not so fast that I'd suffer later. Darren started very fast and I made it my goal not to be lapped by him. I was lapping at about 17-18 minutes, so he'd have to make that up over four hours to catch me.
Round and round... I was overtaking far more than I was being overtaken, and I felt as well as could be expected. Towards the end my legs were teetering on the edge of cramp but they stayed on the edge without leaping over. About 8 minutes before the four hours were up I had a little chat with the guy behind me.
Me: "If we get in before the four hour mark, can we do another lap?" (this is fairly standard for most races)
Him: "No, only laps completed before the four hours count"
Me: (and I quote) "Thank fuck for that"
I crossed the line, had a slightly more interested chat with the other rider, then hunted out Darren, who somehow hadn't managed to lap me.
Darren was broken. Threatening to vomit. Shivering. Not making much sense, even less than usual. Not completely broken, he could still walk to the car to put on more clothes before having a little lie down across the back seats. Apparently he'd slowed down at the two hour mark, and then really slowed down for the last couple of laps. If he ever learns to pace himself properly he'll good at this bike racing business.
We collected our free water bottles.
They weren't real gold.
Bugger.
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