Tuesday 28th June 2005
A landmark day for me as my hair is so greasy that you could fry fish in it. One of the amazing nursing staff looking after me offers to wheel my entire bed into the bathroom whereupon I'm given the glorious treat of having my hair washed. Absolute bliss!!! Apart from my robocop leg, I feel almost human lol.
Wednesday 29th June 2005
The day of the "Big Move". Well, anyone that knows me knows that I'm not a small chap. Don't get me wrong, I'm not hugely obese, just subtantial - I amply fill my 6 foot 2 inches frame which the two poor guys who have turned up to transport me to the private hospital are about to find out!!
It's a stinking hot day in Ashford, Kent when these two smartly dressed chaps turn up on my ward to announce that they're here to take me away. I feel a mixture of emotions as I'm moved from my hospital bed onto an impossibly narrow gurney. The overriding emotion is guilt as these two guys grunt, groan and sweat like stuck pigs as they slide my less than slender bodyframe across from the bed.
I also feel pangs of sadness as I bid farewell to the temporary but good friends I've made in my short 8 day stay. I wave goodbye with my one good arm and try to stop myself falling out of the gurney because the massive plaster of paris cast on my shoulder is doing it's level best to tip me out sideways.
I'm wheeled through the maze of hospital corridors and eventually arrive outside to be greeted by a glorious English summers day. It is so hot, I can't believe it. It feels fantastic to feel the warm breeze on my bruised and battered body and I thank God that I am here and alive. Things could have been a lot worse, like "dead" worse as coming off of a motorcycle at 60 miles per hour is definitely not recommended. My doctor said that my injuries would have been substantially worse but for the protective clothing I was wearing when I fell off.
So as hot as I am, I think to myself that at least once I get inside the ambulance that the air conditioning will kick in and cool me down. WRONG!!!! The aging vehicle that takes me on the 30 mile journey up the motorway does not have such a sophisticated system as air conditioning. I slowly start to cook in the baking oven that is the back of the ambulance.
It feels good to outside once more and I soak up the sight of the cars and lorries that go whizzing past as we make our way to my next recovery point.
My shoulder aches like hell, the leg is strangely pain free (except when I accidentally knock the external fixator against something, and then the whole leg hums and throbs as the vibrations travel the whole length of my bone - WEIRD feeling!!), but I feel quite optimistic.
It's only over the coming weeks will I realise the short-sightedness of my optimism. Having never been in a situation like this before, I foolishly have this perception in my mind that I will be back on my feet in 2 months or so. Little would I realise, until given the facts straight to me by my new doctor that lower leg fractures are the slowest to heal, if at all, sometimes.
But for now, I bask in the sun and my new found optimism.
Next stop, Walderslade, Chatham, Kent, United Kingdom!