A Beautiful Day for a Crash

Such strange events these last few days...

Monday night we checked the weather report and found it was supposed to be a nice, sunny 63 on Tuesday--but overnight it was supposed to get down to freezing. So what would it be like in the morning for my ride? Probably still freezing.

I mentioned this to my husband, and asked, "So when would be the ideal time to ride my bike?" He said, "Noon." Well, that's an inconvenient time for me generally, but I decided to make an exception and move around my schedule so I could take advantage of the beautiful day.

I got up the next morning without intending to go out until later and got a few things done. Then it was time to get the kids up and ready for school, and I discovered that my son--usually the first one up in the house--was still sleeping. I thought this was very strange and I tried to wake him up. He was very lethargic--getting out of bed, but then resting his head on the dresser as he stood there.

I went downstairs to make breakfast and then came back upstairs to check on him. He was back in bed, barely awake. Now I was really worried.

I sent my daughter to the bus stop and called the school to tell them my son wouldn't be in in the morning. Then I putzed around, checking on him every 20 minutes to make sure he was still breathing, and grateful I had already decided to delay my ride.

After about an hour, my son bounded down the stairs full of energy as if nothing had ever happened and, for some reason, was totally focussed on collecting all his video games and putting them in one spot. As I watched him, I immediately understood what had caused his strange behavior earlier--his seasonal allergies had arrived.

So, I gave him some benedryl and brought him into school.

The weather was still chilly--only in the high 40s--so I decided to wait a little longer for my ride...finally heading out the door at about 11:45am.

Immediately I could tell a difference from yesterday's ride--good food has a powerful effect on strength and energy!

As I approached the "100 count" hill, which is about halfway through my ride--about 5 miles out--I was feeling good. I did my best to get some good speed to help with the momentum on the way up. I started to change gears, and that's when it happened...I lost control.

I don't know if it was because of the location of the gears (I have to take my hand off the handlebar to shift) or whether I hit some gravel, but I could tell I was going to crash, and the only thing I thought of was, "What is the best way to fall?"

I ended up doing a somersault over the handlebar and onto a patch of grass next to the sidewalk--it probably would have been theatrical if it wasn't so scary.

I felt OK, but I was pretty shaken up and not sure what to do--I was, it seemed, very far away from home. My husband was an hour away at work. My only thought was to call someone from church to come pick me up, but I didn't have any phone numbers, so I called my husband to have him look up some numbers on the online member directory.

While we were talking a very nice man in a pickup trucked stopped by to make sure I was OK. If I wasn't so far away from home, I would have had him take me there--but I just felt 5 miles was too far to ask. So I thanked him, told him I was on the phone with my husband, reassured him I would be fine, and let him go on his way. I felt bad that I wasn't able to offer him an opportunity to serve and asked God to bless him as if he had.

Anyway, as all this was going on, I was starting to settle down. I don't think I was really panicked, but I definitely felt the adrenaline rush of an emergency.

Once I was reoriented, I realized that I was near a cross street that could cut down the middle of my loop and take me directly home.

So, I told my husband I was going to ride home and that I would call him when I got here.

Once I got home, I took 1000mg of ibuprofen and showered--I figured I was in for some massive pain within the next few hours.

By dinnertime I was achy, and by about bedtime I was starting to feel a sharp pain in my upper abdomen, near my sternum--it felt like a bruise, but there was no bruise to be seen. I don't remember doing it, but I must have fallen on the handlebars. Having watched too much television and seen too many horror stories of internal bleeding and people who thought they were just fine dropping dead, I called the nurse for some reassurance.

She suggested that I see a doctor within 3 hours, but it was nighttime, and I did not want to go to the emergency room.

So, I decided to go ahead and go to sleep and told my husband to check on me.

This morning the abdominal pain was worse, so I went to see the doctor. She initially said she would order an xray, but said that if I had broken or fractured a rib there is nothing that could be done about it.

I told her it didn't feel like my ribs and so she pushed on it again and said she would order an ultrasound instead.

So...I went to the ultrasound clinic and told the technician what was going on. She asked me to point to where the pain was and I lifted up my shirt and pointed to it.

"Oh, you mean right there where that bruise is?" It seems a bruise had appeared!

Anyway, she first did all her checking around looking at the internal organs and seeing if there was any extra fluid in there and everything seemed to be fine. Then she switched probes and looked at the muscle. Everything was fine.

When I wrote my book and told the story of my near heart attack, I said, "It's funny how your mind works in an emergency--obviously, you don't want any thing to be wrong, but then again, you hate to go through all that for nothing."

And that's exactly how I feel now.

So, here I sit--very achy, tired, and miserable, but with nothing seriously wrong with me. So tomorrow, if the weather cooperates, I'll be out in the saddle again, doing another 10 miler, and hoping I have all the wipe outs out of my system.