(disclaimer: I'm fine now! No lasting damage except a hella sweet scar on my knee)
This is the story of the worst bike accident I've ever had. I really did nearly die, and/or lose my leg. It's honestly one of my favorite stories to tell, because I feel it sums my life up very well.
The scene: Beautiful spring day, that first really nice day of Spring weather. I’d come home from school to let my dog out, and my bike had just gotten tuned up at the shop, so I decided I will be healthy! Do an exercise! And I would bike back to school instead of driving.
This would prove to be a near-fatal error.
Now, at the time I lived at the top of a very large hill. College was right at the bottom of it, and I’d gone up and down this hill literally hundreds of times because I used to bike to work on the other side of town. For a long time I didn’t have my license, so I biked every where. I was pretty good at riding a bike.
But sometimes, even when you’re pretty good at something, you fall for no discernible reason.
Just one second, biking down a very large hill, and the next second, sliding down it. Did I mention this was the main highway that went through town? It’s kind of a busy road.
Okay so, I sit up and take stock: not dead, not run over, nothing broken, not really even bleeding. So I’m getting ready to stand up and collect my bike and continue going to school. Well one of the drivers who saw me fall had called an ambulance and frankly this was not a wrong choice on his part.
So the ambulance comes and there’s a cop and I’m laying on a gurney being put into an ambulance and I have to fight with this cop about no don’t just hide my bike in a bush my house is like 500 feet away, also please don’t leave cryptic voicemails for my aunt that I’m being put in an ambulance while leaving out the part where I am ok! and talking to you! about not hiding my bike in a bush! But I am literally having ambulance doors shut on my protests, so I kind of lost that battle.
So that’s the story of how the police department got my bike stolen
So I go to the hospital and they basically just spray me with bactine and let me go
I just kind of walk through the halls because I don’t have a bike and I don’t have a car and I can’t get a hold of my aunt. However, conveniently, this hospital is part of the complex where my grandmother lives so I figure I’ll wander over there and at least one member of my family will know I am not dead and maybe we can get a hold of my aunt.
I find her playing bridge with three nuns in a kitchen. There’s cake.
Finally I get a hold of one of my friends and get someone to come pick me up. Still no word from my aunt. Turns out she was at a funeral and had turned off her phone. Missed all of this.
So okay, that’s the fall. Next couple of weeks most of my road rash is healing up. I’m really not that badly injured, considering a very real possibility was being run over by a semitruck. My right knee is just a little… off… but it’s the end of the year and finals are coming up and ignoring things is a thing, so I ignore it. We get an MRI done of my knee, but nothing shows up.
Now, at this same time my aunt (who I live with, and is generally the failsafe in “is Rachel dying”) isn’t at home much because my grandma is in a lot of pain and can’t walk/stand up. She comes home one day and I’ve asked her to bring me some gatorade because my throat really hurts. I’m also trying to do a take home exam except I have to go lay down for a couple hours after about twenty minutes. She comes home and sees this and decides maybe some kind of medical professional should be involved.
(turns out my grandma has fractured her hip and is admitted to the hospital the same day I am)
So we go get a strep test done.
I don’t have strep.
Except I also can’t sit up on the exam table for the five minutes it takes for the test to come back, so clearly Something is Wrong.
So we go to the walk in clinic.
Now, I don’t really know how blood pressure works, but I do know when the nurse took my blood pressure she got kind of alarmed and asked me if I had driven myself here.
So we go to the ER.
And the guy’s talking to me, did you do any drugs, are you pregnant, have you had any unprotected sex recently
No, but I fell off my bike about a month ago
… Are you SURE you’re not pregnant?
No, but I fell off my bike about a month ago
So finally this guy deigns to look at my knee AND THEN RECOILS IN HORROR and is suddenly taking this a lot more seriously
Here my memory gets a little fuzzy, being somewhat involved with the business of actively trying not to die, but in the end I spent nine days in the ICU, two and a half weeks in the hospital, my other aunt flew in from Connecticut and spent the entire time stroking my brow, I had at least two but possibly three surgeries on my knee, was intubated over night, had an EKG and an ultrasound of my kidneys, and a wound vac attached to my leg for about three months. Some staph bacteria got into a scrape on my knee. I'd had an MRI just previous to this and there's nothing on it; a second MRI a few days later is LOADED with infection. I also had a skin graft made from baby foreskin (which was later accidentally removed by the ER) and spent two weeks in an assisted living facility for nuns.
My orthopedist told me if we had waited any longer to go to the ER, or if I had been much younger or older, we would have been talking about taking the leg. For a long time in the ICU I wasn’t responding to the antibiotics, but once I did I got better extremely quickly.
And that is the story of the time I fell off my bike and almost died (six weeks later).
Today I am fine! No pain, full range of motion, still able to ride as well as ever. It hurts a little to kneel on the scar, but even that has gotten better with time. The biggest consequence was I lost so much muscle tone while hospitalized, and I've never really gotten it back. And a super cool scar and an awesome story