SOMETIMES BAJA BITES...Hard!! PART 2

BAJA BITES 

When we last left off I had just crashed and gotten the bike up and going with a serious hand injury. My goal was to get the bike to the next rider exchange point by riding out to the paved highway and taking the penalty for course deviation in order to be able to deliver the bike to Doug who was waiting approximately 85 miles south of my current location. However, I still had to ride down the course a few miles (very painful) before I could catch a dirt road that would take me out to the highway, about six miles out.

When I reached the dirt road I believed was the one I needed there were some American spectators parked at the intersection watching the race. I was relieved to come across them and verified that this road was the road I needed. They confirmed and offered to help by taking me out in the truck but I told them I would just ride out to the road and cruise the pavement as far as possible. I thanked them and continued on for about 500 yds when the motor seized up! Apparently when I slammed into the rock pile so did the bike. It had shaved off the left side cover at the oil filter and was pumping oil out as I tried to ride it out in first gear. Fortunately the American spectators were definitely paying attention, I hadn’t gotten far when they heard my bike quit, and they were quite concerned when I rode off after seeing my left hand. They hopped in their truck, picked me up and loaded the bike in the back.

Away we went, as we discussed the crash one of them was on the radio and phone relaying information to the race officials while lining up assistance. We met the race support crew at the road and they said there was an ambulance on the way. It sounded as if the ambulance was a good hour or more away due to our location. As I sat in the vehicle preparing for the delay I heard the sound of a helicopter approaching. The helicopter came into view and landed near us. It was the SCORE race helicopter and was staffed with a pilot/medical technician and the co-pilot was an American doctor. I could not believe my good fortune! We spoke for a few minutes as the doctor did an evaluation.  He told me the hand was seriously injured but not life threatening and they would transport me back to the clinic in San Felipe instead of waiting for the ambulance. So  instead of waiting for an hour or more and then making the same length return trip which would have been three hours total I was taken by helicopter in about 15 minutes to the small clinic in San Felipe. This was my lucky or unlucky day depending on how you look at it. But at this point I viewed it as lucky because it was now about 45 minutes to an hour since the crash and the pain was starting to really show its ugly face!

We arrived at the little Mexican clinic which was actually much better than I expected. The doctor spoke pretty good English which was great because I speak no Spanish. The nurses spoke only Spanish but we did our best to communicate while they cleaned and dressed my injuries. We had a pretty good time considering the circumstances and we even managed a few laughs along the way. They did a very good job with what I observed to be obviously limited resources. I was given shots for painkillers, antibiotics and local numbing so they could stitch the injury on the palm of my hand. I was starting to wonder if they just liked practicing giving shots!  After cleaning and dressing the hand the doctor explained that the injury was way beyond the capabilities of the clinic and instructed me to head for a hospital as soon as possible. He mentioned hospitals in Mexicali or Ensenada and I just nodded in agreement. There was NO WAY IN HELL I was going to check into a hospital unless it was in the USA! My wife, Cheryl, finally got enough information on my location and had caught up to me at the clinic. So she tossed me into the van, stopped to pick up our belongings where we were staying and headed for the border crossing at Los Algodones while handing me a couple of pain pills along the way. She said she was giving me the pain pills because she didn’t want to listen to me whine. So I guess the pain pills were really for her!

We made it to the border crossing about 4pm then waited in line luckily for only about an hour. About 5pm we pulled into the emergency room at the hospital in Yuma, Arizona. One look at my hand and I was pushed to the front of the line then immediately into a stall and seen by a doctor that echoed the Mexican doctors evaluation. They were not equipped to handle such a serious injury and he would begin a search to find a qualified reconstructive hand specialist. He found one in Phoenix, Arizona and told us he would make arrangements. It was now about 10pm and we figured here we go again and we would be driving the rest of the night. Since I was now under an American doctor’s care he made arrangements for a medical flight. Wow, I have never had a helicopter and a plane ride in the same day and hope never to again! But at least I was now at what should be my last stop in the conga line of clinics and hospitals.  This had been one of the longest days of my life since I had crashed at 7 am Friday morning and it was now 1 am on Saturday when I was finally admitted and placed in a hospital room to await surgery.

I spent all day Saturday, at about a level 9 on the pain scale whenever the drugs were not working at their peak, waiting for surgery. I finally made it into surgery sometime around 10 pm Saturday night. I met the doctor, Dr Schaub, before going under and was very relieved by his personality, professionalism and his bed side manor. But it had now been 27 hours since I had injured myself and I was more than ready! Sunday morning rolled around and I got paroled just before noon. Cheryl loaded me into the van one more time and headed for the barn! I have been in the recuperation and rehab mode ever since. It has taken much longer than we first thought. I had anticipated a couple of months to be back on the bike but with a couple of unexpected setbacks it has turned into a real test of my patience.

However, I am trying to remember that when I lose the race, I should not lose the lesson. I am thankful for my blessings because it was the same day at the same event that Kurt Caselli tragically lost his life.  Godspeed Kurt.

#33

“Live by choice, not by chance”

Medical Alert...Beware Power Tools!

How NOT to modify your cast!

Since recovering from playing human domino in the garage with my tool box and two bikes, I have been having a hard time with my cast making life miserable.  It has become too uncomfortable in a couple of spots and obviously needed some modifications to operate at maximum efficiency.

How difficult could it be to relieve a little pressure with a garage full of tools? I thought it over and decided I may need some help since using power tools on myself with only one hand might put someone in danger……….mostly ME!  So as soon as the wife says, uh uh, no way, I know I am going to have to use a lifeline and phone a friend.   So immediately the best garage guy with the best set of tools himself and builder of many projects and a lot of common sense comes to mind.  His name is Lance and this guy has built, fixed, modified and thought up more stuff than most of my other buddies all put together.

I call Lance and explain my problem, being an off road enthusiast and having gone through this kind of thing himself he says he will be over in a few minutes and will bring the necessary tool to complete the job.  A short time later Lance shows up with his Dremel tool and a package of grinding/cutting wheels.

We discuss the problem and come up with a plan of attack. It is simple really because all I need is a cut down the length of the cast to relieve some pressure points that are causing some tingling in my fingers.

We are ready to get started with the little high speed grinder and have selected a cutting wheel that is about 1” in diameter. Lance, being the smart one in the garage at the moment says, “We need to both put on safety glasses”, we do and set off to work. Lance does a beautiful job of cutting a nice straight line at a very controlled pace.  I am doing my best to hold my arm and cast very still because I really don’t want him to cut too deep and find my arm inside with that high speed cutting wheel.  He approaches it like a surgeon by watching closely, stopping occasionally to check his cut and take some measurements to see how close he is to getting through the cast.  I am impressed, I definitely chose wisely.

We work on it for about 10 minutes when all of a sudden there is a loud “Bang” and Lance pulls back. He hangs onto the tool but grabs his mouth with his free hand! The small diameter cutting wheel had exploded and a piece of it had hit Lance just above his mouth and under his nose. He turns off the grinder, sets it down and lets me examine the injury. I tell him it is a small cut under the nose and is bleeding slightly but doesn’t look like it will need anything other than a paper towel for a few minutes to stop the blood. We get a couple of paper towels and apply pressure for a few minutes.

Lance says it feels, “thwollen”. I almost can’t keep from laughing when he speaks with a fat lip but remember he is going to be back cutting near my arm in a few minutes with that same tool that just injured him, so I just smile.  In just a few minutes we have selected another cutting wheel and are ready to dive back in when I read on the side of the tool that it spins at 36,000 rpms.  Holy Crap! I had no idea this thing turned at that kind of speed. Being just a bit concerned after what just happened, I ask him “do you think I should run down to town and find a couple of face shields?” Lance says, Naw, it should be ok. I think that was a pretty old wheel, what are the odds of that happening again?”  That’s why I admire Lance, he is a real man!

We start again and only have a small bit of fiberglass left holding this thing together, should be through it in a minute or two. We almost made 30 seconds when I heard another “Bang” at just about the time I felt like someone had punched me in the face! The second wheel exploded and this time the flying piece impacted on my cheek. I definitely flinched as Lance stopped his work and backed away. I am sure he knew instantly the second wheel had come apart and was very relieved that he didn’t have any new injuries. I went over to a mirror to see the cut on my cheek and it was a small cut just like Lance’s.  I tried to take it as well as Lance did but probably didn’t pull it off.  After a short break we decided that maybe this was not such a good idea. Actually, now we were both scared like a couple of little girls.  So we both came to the conclusion that we should finish this project off with just a hack saw blade in our hands.

We had now survived 2 close calls and neither one of us would be making a trip to the emergency room so we took our time and finished the job by hand with just the blade from a hacksaw.  It worked perfectly and we were done in just a couple of minutes, since we were so close to being through anyway. With the tools put away and the bleeding stopped we headed into the house to relax and have some much needed drinks to calm our nerves. I had a Sprite and Lance had a Pepsi. Ahhh…….. Life is good, but I guess I owe Lance dinner. 

#33

“Though a man be wise, it is no shame for him to live and learn.”