My apologies for the graphic nature of this photo. I am aware that male politicians of every stripe lose their jobs for sending images like this to people who don’t want them. Fortunately for me, I have nothing to lose. And no shame. So.
Here’s a little video feature I made about breaking my collarbone last year wherein I return to the scene of the crime and walk through the pivotal final moments before I suplexed myself onto the ground. I have lived through a lot of injuries in my five decades here on Earth, but none of them left me feeling as broken as this stupid collarbone thing. The photo above just about captures the way my whole shoulder seemed to fall off my body, and of course, the purple bloom down my chest just added to the drama. Still, it’s good to maintain a sense of humor about these things.
I couldn’t decide whether this was tragi-comic or dram-edic. Maybe you’ll let me know.
Got my new titanium components back in 2014. 10cm plate and 9 screws. At first everyone told me to let it heal, but I was talking to a friend who was lamenting that his one arm was shorter than the other due to his break. His son would trick him by handing him something just out of reach. That did it; I got the surgery and it was one of the best decisions I’ve made.
Excellent re-telling of the tale. Sort of a dramedy of the comi-tragedy.
What sucks most about those crashes? And you probably did this too?
You instantly start thinking of all of the cool shit you’re going to miss because – D’oh!!!
@Tom – Exactly. Even as I’m laying there in the dust, I’m already thinking about all the shit I’m gonna miss. It’s really not the pain of the injury that hurts. It’s the disappointment about what the injury means for your upcoming adventures.
The inside half of my left collarbone looks like it is about to pop out of my chest because of the way it healed.
Was enjoying my first year of USCF racing back in 1990 and trying to impress the team. So we put one rider off the front as a rabbit during a training ride and were chasing him down. I took a last long pull at the front to prove my mettle and nose to the stem, caught the rabbit. Just as I did, I looked down at my speedometer. 34 mph. I still remember that number on a Cateye. That was a bad move because as I looked down and lost concentration, I overlapped wheels. You can guess what happened next.
What happened next was I lost steering and went over the bars, slammed into Mr. Pavement, slid down the road, and took out most of the six or seven people behind me. If you ever saw one of those instant Tour crashes when all hell breaks loose, well you know the picture.
I was lying on Mr. Pavement and thought I had broken my ribs because my elbow was embedded in my ribs and hurt like hell. Pulled it out and there was this searing pain as the two ends of my collarbone thrashed back and forth under the skin. As it broke, one end drove into the other and cracked it open like a Thanksgiving turkey leg, so it eventually healed with this Y shaped lump in the middle. Meanwhile, the back of my unfortunately white jersey was now quite red from sliding down Kalanianaole Highway. Someone called the ambulance. So much for the next six weeks of the season.
The funny part was my girlfriend, soon to be my wife, was giving a final exam that day in her English 100 class at the college in East Oahu (Kapiolani College, for anyone out there from Paradise). Half the class was not showing up and they were straggling in one at a time. She was annoyed and asked where the hell they were. One student said “well the main road into town from Hawaii Kai was blocked because this bicyclist was splayed out on the road and they were blocking traffic to get him up into an ambulance”.
Then her phone rang. “Hi, I crashed and am in the ER. Can you come and get me when they are finished with me?”
For some reason, she still married me.
Got an A/C separation and a repaired rotator cuff on the other side. Bicycling is good for you…