Fun fact, on September 1st of last year at 12:59pm EST I was run over by an 80 year old man while riding my bike. He pulled out of his driveway at unreasonable speeds without stopping before the sidewalk I was riding on.
I was struck just above my left hip by his passenger side headlight. Initial impact forces were strong enough to unclip my shoes from the bikes pedals, throw me five feet and toss my bike off to the side. I curled into the fetal position but was not able to get my right arm tucked in before his front tire went over my humerus. He stopped after the tire cleared my arm, panicked and then pulled forward again, the rear tire went over my arm and he pulled over to wait for first responders.
Before he went over my arm I closed my eyes and held hope that when I opened them I wouldn't be greeted by my mother, who had passed away one year and ten months prior. When I opened them I could see my arm swelling to the size of my head, I couldn't open my hand and I was almost certain that my shoulder didn't look like it did just a minute prior. I unclipped my helmet and shoved it off my head with my working hand before trying to wiggle out of my backpack. My efforts were met with incredible pain around my lower back and belt line. All that came out of my mouth were screams.
Police took thirty seconds to arrive as an officer was in the parking lot of the Catholic school just two houses down the road. Emergency medical services would arrive within two minutes and begin cutting me free of my clothes and backpack. Before putting me in a collar one attempted to cut my bandana, I threatened to use my good arm to take his scissors and stab him with them if they came anywhere near it. He asked how I wanted to play it and I untied it with one hand before telling him to put it with the rest of my belongings.
I was transported to the local hospital's ER where they decided that they were ill equipped to handle my case and transferred to a university hospital forty miles north of where I live. Imaging there indicated that my shoulder was dislocated and my humerus fractured into three displaced pieces. My pelvis sustained a left side sacroiliac fracture, bilateral pubic rami fractures and a right side superior pubic rami fracture.
On September 2nd, I was prepped for surgery where I'd have two titanium plates affixed to my humerus and my dislocation reduced. I also was given two sacroiliac screws which run from the posterior of my left iliac wing to the right. The goal of these screws was to stabilize my pelvis enough for me to walk with assistance, either human or a tool.
When I was released from the hospital on the 14th of September I could walk roughly three hundred feet with a single point cane, which I still own, before needing to rest. My arm was in a splint to keep my hand from closing as I still could not hold it open, and I wore a sling to ensure my shoulder could heal. I wouldn't return to my apartment and work until February.
A few things to note. My helmet was ruined in the accident, the plastic shell ripped and cracked in several places, the foam broke and in many places the wave-cells, that Bontrager designed to absorb concussive force, deformed. While my local hospital attempted to image me, the responding officer felt fit to issue a ticket for illegally riding my bike on the sidewalk. The charges would be dropped by the DA and case dismissed by the judge in October when I appeared for court. I was less than a month out of the hospital and was still walking on my cane and wearing the sling. They felt that the accident was punishment enough and were displeased to hear that the ticket was issued while hospital staff were figuring out how to run scans.
This accident never would have happened if our cities in the US invested in protected bike lanes. I don't mean those plastic poles either. Cyclists deserve lanes protected by metal bollards. I am one of the lucky ones. I managed to survive with the guarantee that I'll experience chronic pain in my shoulder and lower back for the rest of my life, but at least I still have my life. Many cyclists aren't so lucky.
