Saturday, June 26:It was a typical early Saturday as I headed out to Riley’s Lock (in MD, north of the city, along the Potomac) for my last big training day before Musselman. The majority of the team was in Williamsburg for the other mid-season “A” race, so at first this was to be an unsupported ride - no sags, no sign-in sheets, etc, etc. Luckily enough people showed interest that we had a few volunteers agree to come support.
Many of those doing this ride were doing a brick workout. The 70.3 distance folks were doing 3 hour ride + 1 hour run. For Debbie, who I'd been training with much of the last few months, this meant 40 miles on the bike. I was training for aquabike though (no run) so I felt it made more sense for me to do a longer ride vs a brick and grabbed the 50 mile cue sheet. Debbie and I set out together and over the first 20 miles had conversations about our personal achievements so far this season. I was especially proud of myself for getting up a series of steep hills earlier in this ride. We came to a rest stop where sag, Lynisa, was hanging out. The 40 and 50 mile routes diverged within the next mile, so Debbie and I said goodbye and I was on my own.
There was another hill that I remembered from previous years riding this same route. It was only a mile or so after I parted ways with Debbie. And I made it up so easy! I felt this was going to be a good ride. I was still smiling to myself as I felt a weird “bump” on my back tire. It felt as though I was tubing on a river and another tube bumped into mine. What was that??!! I had this odd sense of floating or being in the air…. But that’s it.
I was suddenly lying on the side of the road, on my right side, facing back the direction I had come. What had happened? I kinda screamed out, but it wasn’t a scream like I was startled or even in pain. It was a confusion scream, scared scream, not sure what to do scream. I felt what I could with my hands and found a huge hole ripped out of my shorts. I didn’t see anybody around. How did I end up here? And then a voice… “are you ok?” The voice was coming from behind me. I knew enough not to move and try to look, nor could I formulate any words. So I “screamed” again. Then a woman was standing over me. I heard her call 911… “I hit a cyclist”
“Joann?” … “I’ve been hit by a car” …. Literally the hardest conversation I’ve ever had, after I’d asked the lady to call her. Several passers-by had stopped at this point, looking me over, holding a towel up to my elbow. Joann was on speaker (the woman was holding the phone), and the strangers let her know what hospital was closest. She would meet me there. Then I was able to scroll to Debbie’s number. Somebody on the team should know what happened. As I was on the call, Lynisa pulled up. She knelt beside me telling me ambulance was on its way, that she would make sure all the things were taken care of. I was worried about my bike and how that would get back to me. Somebody commented that I wouldn’t be using that again…. No silly, not today, obvi… but I’m going to want that back! I now know that the person meant my bike was no longer ridable, frame cut in pieces. I stopped my Garmin.
I heard sirens. It sounded like a lot. Suddenly there were so many paramedics standing over me. Discussing how to get me on the backboard (I had landed on an incline next to the road). Discussing which came first, C-collar or taking off my helmet. Also, somebody wanted to take my helmet. Lynisa reminded them I was likely still attached to the bike. I still didn’t know what was wrong with me. I had heard the strangers gasping but nobody said a word. So many things going on, so many conversations, such chaos.
I’m in the ambulance. It was weird being kept so still with the backboard and c-collar. I could only see the roof of the ambulance. The EMT with me hooked me up to a couple machines and took some stats. She talked me through everything she was doing. I had a lot of questions, not about me, but the process and how things work. “Category B”, “Trauma Level 2”, “ETA 18 minutes”, “Suburban” were all things she was calling into the radio. Wow, 18 minutes! Wait, what does “suburban” mean? I asked… it’s where we were going. Wait. Not shady grove? Umm, can you call my friend? I asked her what the various noises meant. We only put on sirens when there was traffic around. Loud echo-y sirens were when we went under and overpass. Weird beeping noises meant that we were pulling into the hospital.
Trauma surgeons everywhere. Everybody shouting and yelling commands. Nobody talking directly to me. They expected the worst. I asked the nurse if she really had to cut off my favorite jersey - can I try to shimmy out? No, it has to go. Everything has to go. X-rays. Scans. I was cold. A surgeon asked if I needed pain medication.. no, I was ok. I didn’t feel anything (not in a way that I couldn’t wiggle my toes, but I was numb). He told me I would change my mind and to let him know when I do. CT scan. As they are wheeling me out of trauma bay, I hear the radio for the next arrival. “ETA 7 minutes, GSW to the chest, through and through.” Wow. I was their easy case.
Trauma patient Quattro Forty. Cyclist vs SUV. That’s all anybody knew me as when the wheeled me into a corner (which turned out to be a room, but what the hell did I know, I was still positioned to only look up). This meant that neither Joann nor Lynisa could get any information because the hospital did not know me by my name. I was there for awhile. I could hear talking, but they were to other patients, other nurses and doctors. I was there for a long time.
A police officer came in to talk about the case. I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me that the police were called also. The lady who had hit me stayed on scene. I am thankful she stayed. There wasn’t much for the cop to say. He had looked at my clothing, noted the clear weather (not a cloud in sight), had talked to the woman and also Lynisa. He told me there was a good bit of damage on the Ford Explorer that hit me. I had been rear-ended so there wasn’t much I could contribute. The driver never saw me, never hit her brakes and struck me at about 45mph. He gave me the report and left.
So much time passed. I was getting uncomfortable. No, I was starting to hurt. Everything hurt. Finally a nurse came in and I asked her to reposition my shoulder. She cleaned out some glass from the wound. I also got those pain meds. The nurse didn’t know anything else though and they couldn’t remove the backboard yet. She did loosen the c-collar. I asked her if she could go find Joann and update her. She tried, but no luck, she couldn’t find Joann. I was confused. I raised my arm up to try to see what time it was… my Garmin was gone! I was worried I would be late to meet the crew for Dan’s birthday drinks. I was worried about how I would make it home to feed the dogs before meeting my friends. I asked the nurse to hold the room phone up to my ear and dial Joann’s number. No answer.
Finally, finally, finally, they could remove the backboard. To everyone’s surprise, there were no major injuries. There were some deep cuts and contusions, but nothing too serious. How can that be?! One fracture appeared in the scans, so I was to wait to talk to the doctor about that. I was starving but afraid to eat or drink because how would I be able to use the bathroom on a broken ankle. It didn’t feel broken though? Oh but also… I was naked, draped only in the bed sheets. How was that going to work for leaving the hospital? I was now able to use the phone myself and called Joann again. Voicemail. In the middle of my message, somebody brought a bag of my belongings. I had my phone and my Garmin back! Holy hell it was after 2pm! I called Heidi and she answered. Lynisa (who Joann had recognized cause of her Team Z shirt) and they went to retrieve my car and get my bike loaded up. Heidi and Joann were en route to my house to drop off my car and they would feed my pups. I told them my status and that I expected to be able to leave once I spoke with the ortho doctor.
I had to be told explicitly that I could not participate in the Cicada Swim the next morning - the 1.7 mile open water event in National Harbor. I texted Dani with the bad news. I think I left out the part about the accident? Joann sent me a photo of my broken bike which I forwarded out to some friends and family, with an "oh by the way, the reason my bike is broken...."
Coach Ed called me. He asked if I was still planning to do Musselman in 2 weeks. My answer wasn't "no."
An hour later Joann showed up with clothes for me. I had gotten out of bed by now (wearing paper scrubs) and was able to use the bathroom and get a snack. Still no ortho doc. Joann and I started looking at all the cuts and scrapes. “No major injuries” does NOT mean unscathed. Everything still hurt. Joann helped clean me up and get me out of my paper outfit and into my sundress. Still no ortho doc. We waited another hour for him to show up and spend 2 min explaining that the fracture was actually old and unrelated. I was free to go. Seems anti-climatic... like all that and now I can just walk out of the hospital?
Joann got the car and we met up with Heidi for dinner ( I was STARVING - not much breakfast and I hadn't gotten through most of my bike nutrition... and scared to eat/drink anything since I couldn't get up for bathroom). Then Joann drove me home. I spent the next few hours catching up with some folks on the phone and then crashed. So many mixed emotions of being scared, and angry, and confused... but definitely thankful because I know it could have been so much worse.
Thankful for all the visitors, food deliveries and gift cards, flowers, and all the get-well messages!
