I'm not dead yet.

 No, that isn't referring to the time gap since my last post, although I have been intending this title for at least a month, but then things happened and made it even more fitting, which I suppose is a wee spot of foreshadowing, so keeping reading to learn why. No again, the title was originally a segue to a habit that started on rides late this summer.  Like many survivors of a traumatic brain injury (Yay! I'm a survivor.), I started experiencing disrupted sleep midway through last year, and while time has improved that significantly, my sleep doesn't quite equal that of my first forty-eight years of experience.

Luckily, I nap. Late this summer, I adopted the outlook that naps could happen midway through a bike ride, especially since I often ride through more remote areas with patches of quiet woods. Feeling tired? Stop, lie down, nap, problem solved, but it seems finding me supine next to my bike would periodically present a potential problem to people who might happen upon me.

"Are you OK?"

"Yes," I reply.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely positive!"

Second guessing my first reply seemed odd to me, enough so that I related the encounter to a friend who pointed out that if someone wasn't OK, was lacking full combobulation, their simple answer might not be one to trust, so it made sense to double check. Ah, yes, that's true. In fact, a couple years ago, when I met my neighbor five houses down and the father of the former eagle scout who stopped to assist me an hour and a half after my accident in 2022, he told me that when his son asked if I was OK, I'd replied yes, I was just resting. That sounded like something I'd say, even if I was so addled I couldn't tell the ambulance crew my name.

So, I stand, or even lay down napping, corrected, and I trust I wasn't too overly emphatic with my second reply of confirmation. Thanks to those who had concern enough to ask. But no, I'm not dead yet, despite seemingly my best attempts.

Enough blatant foreshadowing, a bit over four weeks ago, I made a simple, unthinking mistake with somewhat severe consequences. After a quick stop, I noticed some strands of grass had wrapped around my front hub. It seems I am what can sometimes be problematically comfortable on a bike, so rather that stop, I reached way down to snag the errant strands, fortunately having the forethought to realize I might be less noticeable and stable in that posture, so delaying the maneuver until no cars were passing.

That's where my sensible actions ended, and instead of snagging the grass, I somehow snagged a spoke. With my hand behind the fork leg, this was bad. This tugged my hand into the space, not ample enough, between the spokes and fork leg, and with my hand acting as a wedge, that stopped my front wheel.

Oops, up goes the back wheel, and I wasn't moving that fast, so I even distinctly remember rotating up, and even remember realizing, oh, I'm actually going all the way over. The good news is I remember that, so it seems very unlikely I hit the pavement hard enough to lose consciousness, but on the bad side, reaching down to the front hub is an awkward position from which to crash, or as I proceeded to do, face plant.

Going back to the accident in 2022, I was a form of pleased that all the primary impact damage to me and my helmet was on the back side, which I posit means means I tucked and may have that to thank for the fact that, while distinctly damaged, I am alive and writing reasonably complete sentences today. I didn't face plant.

But a month ago, from that awkward pose, I tried that option. I don't recommend it. After immediately getting myself out of the road, when no car was coming, I dragged my bike to the side as well. My left shoulder was numb, so I figured that was primary impact, and a quick check of my tender chin with my right hand showed blood. Ok, oops, riding the mile home home with a gimpy arm seemed a bad idea, so I started walking, contemplating the ill conceived action I'd just tried.

About half way home, my left arm was really aching and I contemplated locking the bike and calling 911 until I figured that I could undo one button of my shirt and use the opening to support my left arm like a sling. Ah yes, sometimes it's the simple things, at least for simple people. I made it home.

Bike wheeled behind the house under the roof's three foot overhang, I removed my helmet, sat down in the chair sheltered by the same overhang, and called 911, despite earlier thoughts of calling a friend for a ride to urgent care to have my shoulder checked. That call for proper care was the right move, even if a bit delayed.

First to arrive was a police officer, who by that time found me supine in the yard and kindly, and gently, supported my head with I-forget-what and my sore left arm with a collection of water bottles.  Once the EMTs arrived, put me in a neck brace, transfered me to a backboard, and then into the ambulance, I told them how my primary impact was left shoulder, so they showed me my untattered wool shirt and said they suspected a pinched nerve was giving the impression of an impact on that side.

Did I mention, oops! Dislocating two vertebrae, c5 and c6, in my neck had pinched the nerves that already had a reduced opening due to age, usage, and genetics (yup, my athletic 3 1/2 year older sister has been experiencing similar nerve issues, but it seems I dropped the proverbial sack of straw on the camel's back). But on the plus side, despite some onset of panicked hyperventilating, I took peace in the fact the after I was initially swarmed by emergency room staff they deserted me after five minutes. A low triage priority is what one wants to be!

Yup, I goofed, and a week later, the Neuro surgeon, Dr Oh, unsatisfied by the recovery of sensation and muscle activation in that arm, scheduled me for ACDF surgery within the week, which meant swapping two discs for plastic spacers and fusing plates. Happily, my supremely awesome primary care physician, as well as two friends with over twenty years on me each, one of whom had a vertebrae removed, said Dr Oh is one of the best in the state and will operate only when no other option stands.

I was in good hands two and a half weeks ago, and despite ecpecting the greatest pain of my life post op, I have been utterly unreasonably well. Aside from pain meds given by the anesthetist before I woke, my sum total pain relief has been a single 500mg Tylenol cut in half to provide the two doses I took that night to ensure I slept. Four days post op, I road my bike about two miles as a much speedier option for getting to tbe bus stop and my new form of transportation. A week after that I was putting my bike on the bus to speed any errands between stops.  I've also spectated a running race and then a cyclocross race, with some transit help from friends, so yes, I'm truly faring unreasonably well.

But hopefully, I'm not too old to learn because I'm definitely getting too old to hit the ground badly. Now, I'll stop, maybe even get off my bike, and fix what needs attention. I'm a bit wiser, and part of that wisdom is knowing that a nap in the woods can cause great concern, but walking the road with a bloody chin is fine. Nobody stopped to ask if I was OK. Well, I'm not dead yet!