My Thoughts
Hey there, teammates. It is good to hear that everyone had an outstanding weekend, or “legendary” as Shawn put it and that you all had pretty good races too. It’s also wonderful hearing that people got to know each other better and that there were good times all around the campsite. If I got close with anyone during this weekend getaway, it was definitely Nurse Deanna, who saw me (all of me) and took care of me this weekend in ways I doubt I would let anyone else do.
Now guys, I love you. You know that. I try to show you all the time that I care for you as individuals and as a team. Just like I do with my family (and if it annoys you as much as it annoys them, then I’m sorry, but I don’t know any other way!) …and my family pretty much happens to be a part of this team too. I’m not here to take sides or to argue with anyone. I really don’t even have the energy for that. Reviewing everyone else’s bickering has depleted my energy enough, and quite literally nauseated me …Unless that’s just part of the morphine aftermath. It’s hard to tell the difference.
And the thing is I love drama -or at least watching it on my personal 19” LCD screen. Old Grey’s Anatomy episodes are a favorite, but being the source of drama, really isn’t my thing. And speaking of Grey’s, I felt like I was whisked into a behind-the-scenes look this weekend. Here’s what happened:
Saturday morning ride on a beautiful day. We’re riding in pairs and I get cutoff. I still see my front tire getting side-swiped by my friend’s back tire, which pulls me to an immediate stop. Attached to the bike, I wobble and fall to the ground. I don’t remember the actual hitting-the-ground. But I know I was awake moments later, doing my typical outrageous reactions, which include crying and yelling. I felt pain. My head, my right shoulder, my right hand. I was really tired and being advised not to fall asleep, though that was the only thing my body wanted to do. Jen was there talking to me. I remember reaching for Alex (I wanted to curl up next to somebody without laying on my right arm-Alex Birdsill was on my left), and being sad when he had to walk away. I didn’t want people to stay because of me, and I think I mentioned something about them finishing their ride and not missing their workouts.
Laying on the pavement, I got an IV in my left arm. Before I knew it, I was strapped to a board and had a neck-brace put on me. You know how you get hurt, and then you get back up, brush it off, and go about your business? Yeah, I know that too. If any of you had seen me jump off a 35’ cliff in Jamaica and hit the water like it was pavement, then you also saw me come out of the water after a little crying, then grab a hold of the rope swing and jump back into the water with a purple-black bruise that had quickly colored my entire left thigh. But for some reason, I couldn’t get up this time. People were buzzing around me –I was even told to lie still when I did try to move. In the ambulance people were talking to me, but I couldn’t see their faces, because I couldn’t turn my head (neck-brace). And the pain persisted. I heard talk of a concussion. Thinking it was dislocated, I was concerned about my shoulder. My hand was the least of my worries.
Then, I’m air-lifted out of the park in a helicopter. My nostrils, by the way, already have tubes in them before I even leave the park. A breathing mask is put on my face as we take-off, my jersey is cut off, small discs are applied to my chest, and all I can see are flashing bright colors where there should be clear blue sky. As we land, a man’s voice tells me that I’m being taken into the emergency room and there will be a lot of people asking me questions “just like on t.v.”
We go in, and he’s right. All I can see is the ceiling (it’s moving pretty fast), but I do hear lots of people asking me questions. I feel like I’m responding normally, until a nurse puts her ear up to me asks me again to repeat myself. I realize that people can hardly hear me. My earrings and watch are removed, and I get X-rayed multiple times. Then I get CT-scans. I’m testing negative for everything. A doctor comes over and pokes around in my hand. I knew it was burning, but I had chalked it up to road rash. Now I need surgery. There’s a rock stuck in my hand that he can’t get out. He’s a surgeon, but I need a hand-specialist. Then I hear Cameron. Cameron comes around the curtain to see how I’m doing. He, Chris and Jen are ready to take me beck to the campsite. Cameron holds my hand. He told me today that I looked like I “had been hit by a truck.” I was pretty out of it, and had tubes goin’ everywhere.
Next thing I know, I’m in another room and they’re prepping me for surgery. I get stripped from the waist down and a hospital gown is put on me. All that I have left on from the morning is a hair-tie and a sports bra. I don’t feel like I am in control of the situation at all. They allow both of my brothers and Jen to come in at the same time while the hand-surgeon talks to me. He tells me that they’re gonna put me under and give me something so that I won’t remember the actual surgery. I was scared going into the surgery with three men I had never met, without my clothes on and no power. Another breathing mask comes on my face. I start coughing. That’s the last I remember of that.
The nurse tells me that Cameron, Chris and Jen all came back to my room for about 35 minutes after the surgery, but I don’t remember. I do recall Chris saying that he wanted to take me, but they wouldn’t let him because it was to a campground. I apparently was mumbling, slobbering on myself, and had a bed pan under me--no one wanted to deal with me anyway, not in the state that I was in. At that point, the best place for me was the hospital. This brings us to the night where Nurse Deanna got to know me pretty well. I’m sure you don’t want to know those details, so I’ll skip ‘em. The next day, Jen comes to pick me up around 3 o’clock. I’m ready to get out of there. I’m still exhausted, maybe even still coming off the anesthesia/sedatives. I’ve got a hole in my left arm where there was an IV, 4 hospital bracelets on my left wrist, some scabs on my right shoulder (it’s more sore than anything), 3 sutures in my right hand, some pain in my neck, and a few other bumps and bruises.
The funny thing is I actually have been hit by a truck before while riding my bike. Yeah, I had my scratches and I was a little shaken up, but you know what, I got to school exactly one minute late and no one really knew about it. I did tell my family. I mean, it's pretty cool when someone asks you how your day went and you can say matter-of-factly, "It was okay, except for that part where I got hit by a truck."
Anyways, yesterday I came home; I just wanted to rest and see the people I love. But by this time, everyone has developed their own opinions about the situation and I’ve got to hear them right now. C’mon people. Everything’s in my name. What difference does it make if you’re yelling at me or each other? Because, if you’d like to know, it only makes me feel worse. I’m sorry this ever happened. I really am. And when I get the bill, I’ll be even sorrier. But it can’t really be undone, you know? No one stopped it, any of it. And there were a lot of people there. And that’s fine. We all wanted to be safe, and, besides, everything happens for a reason. I walk away with the bruises, I walk away with the bill. I’m the one who walks away feeling taken advantage of and used for profit. Show some love, people. We talk about being a team, being a family. Even if you don’t agree with what happened, let’s lift each other up and move on from this. I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to Havasu. I’ll see you tonight at the meeting. Please excuse me if I’m not at my best.
Thank you for your support and for listening,
Angela
Joined: 2007-08-21