Jester
Getting there...
- Location
- Northants, UK
You may want a comfy chair and suitable drink for this one. There will also be an intermission at an appropriate point [when the 10 000 character limit is reached!]. There is a bit of graphic stuff so if squeamish you may want to give this a miss.
Sunday Sept 24th 2017 saw me heading to Higham Ferrers on my owned-from-new 18 year old 104 000 mile CB500 to lead a ride to the Shuttleworth Collection [old aircraft]. About 12 miles in I have to pass Old Towcestrians Rugby Club and at that time of day it is kids rugby practice and there are always cars turning into the car park, I can see over the hedges from about 1/4 mile away that there is a queue so slow to 50 [60 limit] on the approach for the last bend about 300 yards from the car park entrance. As I approach a queuing car turns across my path. I slam on the brakes but I have a new front tyre [30 miles on it] so get the juddering through the bars that signals an imminent lock so let off. I look to pass to the rear of the turning car but there is another behind it, then look to the front of the car with a view of going up the drop kerb and along the path but the car has now blocked this. Another look to go behind is still a no-go so the last desperate chance is to turn into the car park in front of the car and stop before hitting someone. Remember the bit about the new tyre? I am turning and can feel the front tyre skipping and as I look at a 4" x 4" fence post directly in front of me I an thinking "this is going to hurt" and wondering if I will break both legs. Then the car got in the way.
At this point I had scrubbed off speed to about 25-30 mph by my estimate, the speedo is locked at 20. I hit the car at about a 45° angle taking the impact on the front wheel of the bike and my right-hand side, removing the front bumper of the car. I remember all but about a tenth of a second, including the feeling of my leg snapping. Witnesses said I was thrown into the air and nutted the windscreen which is the bit I don't remember then I was on the deck actually sitting against the front passenger door of the car. Although I am a rufty-tufty biker I was screaming, then shouting help, then asking someone to call an ambulance. Various people came to my aid, but none seemed to know first aid or accident scene management beyond telling the front seat passenger to get out the drivers side!
Feeling a lot of pain in my leg was a good sign, but not as good as wriggling my toes and feeling them move-I thought 'thank swear word beginning with 'F' for that". Looking at my leg I could see I now had two knee joints and my arm was also obviously broken. I managed to get my wallet out of my pocket and passed my driving licence to a bystander and told them that if I passed out they must give that to the ambulance crew. As I don't have a family this is the only way they could access my details. I also managed to call the people I was meeting up with and told the I wouldn't be along as I had been in a bit of a dink with me off to hospital and my bike needing to be recovered. To give you an idea of the state I was in I didn't even ask how my beloved bike was!
Next up come the emergency services, a complete set of paramedic car, ambulance, police and fire engine. The ambulance crew are kind enough not to cut my leather jacket off and unzip rather than cut off my boots. The leather trousers now look like a grass skirt and they cut off my Kreiga R20 rucksack. I had already removed my lid and right glove and a bystander removed my left one. After a bottle of entonox [gas and air], canula for the morphine and ketamine it is decided that I need my first ever go in a helicopter as the Air Ambulance is called out. The various drugs mean I remember a little of being carried to the big yellow chopper and a bit of the landing, but to be honest I was that high they may have towed me behind it instead of putting me inside.
I ended up in Coventry A&E where I was assessed, CT scanned, ultrasounded and put in the high dependancy unit [HDU] with a plastered arm, tractioned leg and morphine drip. On the Monday it was off to theatre where two surgical teams worked on me for four-and-a-half hours, the arm had a fracture that was straight across the humerus so they had to line it up properly without an angled break to help with the plating and my femur had two breaks, one at the neck and one mid-shaft which was a compound-meaning the bone had come through the skin. I also had two fractured ribs and an assortment of internal injuries. The lead of the team that fixed this with a femoral nail [so called as they really do bang it in with a hammer] said that the alignment was an issue and there were "lots of sexual swear words" during the procedure.
Sunday Sept 24th 2017 saw me heading to Higham Ferrers on my owned-from-new 18 year old 104 000 mile CB500 to lead a ride to the Shuttleworth Collection [old aircraft]. About 12 miles in I have to pass Old Towcestrians Rugby Club and at that time of day it is kids rugby practice and there are always cars turning into the car park, I can see over the hedges from about 1/4 mile away that there is a queue so slow to 50 [60 limit] on the approach for the last bend about 300 yards from the car park entrance. As I approach a queuing car turns across my path. I slam on the brakes but I have a new front tyre [30 miles on it] so get the juddering through the bars that signals an imminent lock so let off. I look to pass to the rear of the turning car but there is another behind it, then look to the front of the car with a view of going up the drop kerb and along the path but the car has now blocked this. Another look to go behind is still a no-go so the last desperate chance is to turn into the car park in front of the car and stop before hitting someone. Remember the bit about the new tyre? I am turning and can feel the front tyre skipping and as I look at a 4" x 4" fence post directly in front of me I an thinking "this is going to hurt" and wondering if I will break both legs. Then the car got in the way.
At this point I had scrubbed off speed to about 25-30 mph by my estimate, the speedo is locked at 20. I hit the car at about a 45° angle taking the impact on the front wheel of the bike and my right-hand side, removing the front bumper of the car. I remember all but about a tenth of a second, including the feeling of my leg snapping. Witnesses said I was thrown into the air and nutted the windscreen which is the bit I don't remember then I was on the deck actually sitting against the front passenger door of the car. Although I am a rufty-tufty biker I was screaming, then shouting help, then asking someone to call an ambulance. Various people came to my aid, but none seemed to know first aid or accident scene management beyond telling the front seat passenger to get out the drivers side!
Feeling a lot of pain in my leg was a good sign, but not as good as wriggling my toes and feeling them move-I thought 'thank swear word beginning with 'F' for that". Looking at my leg I could see I now had two knee joints and my arm was also obviously broken. I managed to get my wallet out of my pocket and passed my driving licence to a bystander and told them that if I passed out they must give that to the ambulance crew. As I don't have a family this is the only way they could access my details. I also managed to call the people I was meeting up with and told the I wouldn't be along as I had been in a bit of a dink with me off to hospital and my bike needing to be recovered. To give you an idea of the state I was in I didn't even ask how my beloved bike was!
Next up come the emergency services, a complete set of paramedic car, ambulance, police and fire engine. The ambulance crew are kind enough not to cut my leather jacket off and unzip rather than cut off my boots. The leather trousers now look like a grass skirt and they cut off my Kreiga R20 rucksack. I had already removed my lid and right glove and a bystander removed my left one. After a bottle of entonox [gas and air], canula for the morphine and ketamine it is decided that I need my first ever go in a helicopter as the Air Ambulance is called out. The various drugs mean I remember a little of being carried to the big yellow chopper and a bit of the landing, but to be honest I was that high they may have towed me behind it instead of putting me inside.
I ended up in Coventry A&E where I was assessed, CT scanned, ultrasounded and put in the high dependancy unit [HDU] with a plastered arm, tractioned leg and morphine drip. On the Monday it was off to theatre where two surgical teams worked on me for four-and-a-half hours, the arm had a fracture that was straight across the humerus so they had to line it up properly without an angled break to help with the plating and my femur had two breaks, one at the neck and one mid-shaft which was a compound-meaning the bone had come through the skin. I also had two fractured ribs and an assortment of internal injuries. The lead of the team that fixed this with a femoral nail [so called as they really do bang it in with a hammer] said that the alignment was an issue and there were "lots of sexual swear words" during the procedure.
