Something big between my legs…conclusion

When I left off, I was lying in the woods, behind a rusty guardrail on a sparsely traveled road. Unconscious. If you would like to catch up you can here, here, and here.

“Bill… can you hear me?” a strange voice boomed over me. It was noisy and chaotic, I was freezing and disoriented. The surface I was lying on was incredibly uncomfortable and I attempted to shift my weight. A tsunami of pain washed over me and I cried out. Several sets of hands suddenly were on me forcing me to sit still. Again, the booming voice called out to me. I opened my eyes to see 8-10 faces, all staring at me with anticipation.

“Where am I? ” It was then that I realized that I was wearing an oxygen mask. I tried to reach to take it off when I realized that my arms were strapped to my sides.

“Bill please don’t try to move. You’ve sustained a serious back injury and you are in a prone position until we can determine the severity.”

I think I next asked about my bike. He dodged the question.

A nurse burst into the room. We’ve got his dad on the phone, he says the patient has kidney disease. I heard a quick exchange between them and before I knew it my shorts were at my ankles and I was being catheterized. I have two powerful memories of that moment. The pain of a plastic tube going the wrong way up an exit brought me to full consciousness right away and I realized that I was in the presence of about 10 medical students.
med students
Embarrassing. My second regret is that I didn’t have the mental acuity to make a good joke such as “aren’t you going to buy me dinner first?” I don’t remember much after that. I either blacked out again, was anesthetized or I fell asleep. My next memory is of being in a stuffy hospital room in traction.

My parents were my first visitors. I managed to find the strength to thank my father for the heads up that led to me being “pantsed” in front of a team of medical students. We laughed a little about that one but laughing and fractured vertebrae equaled agony so we kept the joking to a minimum. Soon after, a wave of my friends arrived with thoughtful gifts such as books and dirty magazines. Their visits were helpful but I was in a funk. Then, on the afternoon of my second day, a cute little blond poked her head in my room. It was Cheryl. She had called my house and my father had told her what had happened.

She came into the room with the facial expression of a woman delivering a cancer diagnosis. Despite her dour demeanor, I lit up. I was so happy to see her. She proceeded to profusely apologize for what happened. I assured her that it was in no way her fault, hell I would do it again. As her visit would reveal that would not be necessary. She told me that we can’t see each other anymore because she wanted to “make it work” with her boyfriend. That was exactly the dick-slap I needed at that time. Of course, I didn’t know that the next day I would get another one. I received a call from my employer. Because I had not shown up for work without a call I was terminated. That was the good news. I also learned that the bargain-basement health plan that my company provided did not cover an accident that wasn’t work-related. Believe it or not, health care has improved dramatically. This was a deplorable policy that is now illegal. I would accrue over $27,000 in medical bills from the accident.

I spent 2 1/2 weeks in that hospital. I had a collapsed lung, 4 fractured vertebrae, 3 broken ribs, a broken wrist, a concussion and “road rash” on 70% of my body. A muscle shirt, jean shorts, and sneakers may have been a great choice for fucking in a van, but it was a poor choice to ride in that day. They were picking rocks and pebbles out of my ass for a week. I was in traction for 8 days and the pain was excruciating. As I laid there high on pain-killers, watching TV and wishing I was anywhere else I attempted to piece together the moments after I blacked out. I had so many questions.

I cringed at the memory of the moment when I gasped for air and failed. I really thought I was going to die. Why didn’t I? I asked my Dr. and he explained the medical phenomenon of your body going into “shock”. Incredibly, my body sensed that I was losing control and it “took over” my panic and shut me down. It enabled me to breathe and consequently survive until I was found.

I wanted to know who found me. Remember, this is before cell phones. Was it a good Samaritan driving by that saw my bike and found a nearby house to call 911? I don’t remember a house in the area that I went down. In addition, how long was I lying in a ditch before they saw me and how much time elapsed before the ambulance arrived? I had no memory of the ambulance ride. It was a blank. I still don’t know nor will I ever.

The last question that nagged me, and does to this day was who was the asshole that hit me and why did he leave me there? He had to have seen the crash. To my knowledge, no arrest was ever made. I still harbor an unhealthy bitterness towards that sonofabitch.

I would wear a back brace for 6 months after the accident. I was out of work for a year.  I had to deal with many issues during recovery including lower back issues resulting from compensating my posture to ease the pain. I still struggle with it to this day but I don’t dwell on it because my ever walking again was once in question.

I still love motorcycles. I will ride one again. The only reason I don’t have one now is money. I also believe in helmet laws. My father recovered my helmet, it was cracked in half. Despite all of it, when I can afford it I will again enjoy the sensation of driving that only an iron steed can provide. Amazingly, the memories of my riding days are still fun ones. Sun on my skin, wind in my face and bugs in my teeth. Cheryl on the back with her tiny arms wrapped around, sexy-talking me while holding me tight, damn I will never forget my times with her. Whenever I see a bike, which if you recall is what started this story, I smile.

As I do when I see a Nurse’s uniform. Did I mention that I began dating one of the medical students immediately after the crash? She slipped me her number as she wheeled me out of the hospital when I was released. I suppose she liked what she saw when I was “pantsed” and catheterized. She was fun.

But that, my friends. is a story for another day.




25 thoughts on “Something big between my legs…conclusion”

  1. Holy shit, Billy. I DID NOT see that coming. My god, I am so sorry you were so severely injured. I thought for sure she would save you from the ditch and shag your lights out. Dammit. I seriously cannot believe that guy drove away. Kharma is a helluva thing, though. Thank you for telling this tale, but for doing so with humour and heart, most people wouldn’t be able to after all that they have been through. You are a great guy, Billy, and I am so thankful you are here!​


  2. I hope whoever it was (I’m assuming it was a guy) got picked up for something else, did some time and had to share a cell with oversexed sadistic freak on steroids who made him an unwilling boy toy

    Liked by 1 person

  3. The only “wind therapy” I get these days is when my daughter’s boyfriend takes me out. I was looking at attending motorcycle classes to get a bike myself this year or next, but due to “secret” recent developments my oldest is trying to curb my “extreme” thrill nature. As it stands now when I ride, I dress for the slide….just in case

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Wow, what an ending. There is something in your tale that is a semi-shared experience, but I will leave it at that.

    You really made this come alive, which does NOT surprise me. All of your work does this to me.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. it took a lot of years to sort out the details of that day. The brush with mortality, the amazing fortune of someone getting me help on time and the recovery took its toll. But all these years later (31!) I am still here and plugging along so I finally felt compelled to tell it.
      thank you for your kind words

      Liked by 3 people

  5. Ugh! I’ll admit to coming in late on your story. It didn’t take me long to guess the gist of its entirety just by reading your last post. First let me say, I’m glad you are recovering. And, that you may one day get back on a motorcycle. Secondly, you seem to be holding on to the fonder memories the most. Good idea. Clearly, even the worst of situations have a positive component; though it’s often difficult to find it right off. Thirdly, I love motorcycles too. I’m not a driver, but a rider, and the preferred vehicle is the road-worthy Gold Wing.

    Thankfully, my motorcycle buddy and I have never been hit. That would suck big time. We typically ride out in the wide open country spaces where there are few other vehicles to play chicken with us. We always wear helmets, and if I didn’t find it too hot, I would probably wear heavy leather clothing as well. I guess you just hope for the best when you do something that some may deem risky, and a lot dangerous. But those folks have never experienced a great ride with the breeze, and the smell of the trees, and the sounds, and the clouds, and the freedom of space!


  6. Jesus, Super.
    How many such stories do you have?!
    This was, my friend, one hell of a ride. I’m sorry for all the shit you have been dealing with, but….dating one of the medical students who wheeled you out of the hospital…Damn, you’re quite something.

    Liked by 1 person

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