Paul and Tracey’s Story
Tracey and I won a half day of time out on the bike together, Amy looked after Alex.
We rode from Tenterden, across the marsh down to Dover and to St Margaret’s at Cliffe. We had some lunch and a drink and soaked up the views - beautiful by the beach.
We decided to head for home and tucked the bike off into the lanes to wiggle our way back, vaguely following the sat nav for direction. Eventually we came out at the Stop 24. But time was ticking away so we decided not to for go for ice cream and to make our way home to relieve our daughter who was looking after Alex. Save a few bonus points for another day. We set route for Bilsington, Ruckinge, Hamstreet and home.
We came up over the crossroads by the pub in Bilsington and started to drop towards the woods. On the last left in the woods before the fields, something happened!
I have no memory at all other than feeling contact with something. Later Tracey said she saw a big blue and yellow lorry on our side of the road. I’m sure I would have been following IPSGA. I’m strict with not off-siding without a view so I’m sure I would have been on the white line looking for information, so I feel I must have seen the lorry and moved as far left as possible to avoid collision. Unfortunately, not far enough; my foot hit the step of the lorry snapping my foot peg off and mashing my foot; and ripping the bottom step plate off the lorry. (The foot peg and step trim were found together by the side of the road).
I think Tracey’s foot must have hit the wheel arch of the lorry breaking her toes and ankle and burning her foot with friction of the impact.
We stayed on the bike. Strangely, I think if we had been in the car we would have been killed. On the bike we just sneaked past.
I remember seeing my boot ripped off and looking at my foot. It wasn’t pretty. A big hole in the top pumping blood. I could hear Tracey in pain.
I saw a large, firm gateway and pulled in and told Tracey to get off quickly if she could. I could hear she was in pain, and I imagined I could pass out soon. I stood on the bad foot, very strange feeling - not painful but wrong. I got the side stand down and managed to get Tracey off slowly. She was panicking a bit. Once she was off, I got my helmet off and hung it on my mirror and removed my jacket. I got off the bike and laid on the floor raising my foot onto the front wheel to reduce the bleeding.
Tracey was on the 999 call and telling me to get my belt off and tie off the blood flow to my leg. I removed my belt and tied it as tight as I could around my thigh. Not the best job, but an effort.
Tracey realised the comms on the helmet had taken over the call so had to reset the phone, and, while she did that, I picked up What-Three-Words[1].
Lots of cars just passed, then a camper stopped. A couple from Switzerland stopped, got a chair for Tracey and held umbrellas over us. Not the best start to their holiday, but like angels to us.
Then I think the ambulance turned up.
I ended up in the ambulance, puffing something good. Strangely I’d not been in any real pain still. The air ambulance turned up. They decided my injuries weren’t life threatening. The ambulance driver told me they were going to load Tracey and go to the William Harvey. But at the moment she was off her head on gas and air and was trying to chat the helicopter pilot up for a ride. She got in the ambulance.
I asked the paramedic to do us our first crash date selfie, which was a giggle. Then a couple of photos of my foot, which ended up a godsend for lots of medical staff.
Joe came to collect my bike, but everything was seized by the police.
Joe followed us to the hospital, followed Tracey and then they came and found me as Tracey just wanted to be with me
It was decided to take me to Kings Hospital. We said our goodbyes and off I went. I had a great giggle with the paramedic, lovely lady. A poor nurse from the hospital was almost at the end of her shift but now was coming to London to watch a machine I had attached to me. Worse still, once she got to London, she had to make her own way home as the ambulance wasn’t allowed to take her in case they got a 999 call.
They dropped me off and we said our goodbyes. It was still Monday.
Tuesday, I had a clean-up operation, and it took until the following Tuesday to go for my main operation - in at 8:30 am out at 10 pm, over 13 hours. Orthopaedics went in first, plates and screws to hold the bones in place. Then the plastics team. They removed a lump of my thigh the size of a large chicken breast and sewed it into my foot and then sewed the rest of me back together.
Unfortunately, after a couple of days, the flap died (1% to 2% failure rate) so they took me back in to take one out of my right thigh. This one flourished although my thigh felt very tight with stitching.
In the bed next to me was Steve, another motorcycle casualty, with a crushed leg. We had some good banter to reduce the boredom, hospital food often the subject. You can survive on it but it tastes like *5h@*!*.
Now started the fight for home. First learn to walk with a Zimmer - short trips were completely exhausting. I likened this part of the journey to climbing Ditchling Beacon (think of a London to Brighton cycle ride). Ditchling Beacon is a huge hill and at the top is an ice cream van. If I can make it to the top….!
After the Zimmer came the crutches. You’ve all seen kids zipping across playgrounds on crutches? Well at nearly 60 with a tummy it’s not so easy. Twenty metres with some training enroute and I got back shaking and gasping for air. I had arm exercises with bands and leg exercises on the bed. I worked hard.
Then they found a blood pocket in my right thigh which needed a quick operation on a Saturday evening. And then another setback, a pipe out of my leg which seemed to run down a nerve to the back of my eye lids.
Next came crutches and handrails up stairs; a tricky manoeuvre but do-able, but again, I returned to the bed like I’d just finished a marathon
Pipes removed - physio again. And then stairs with no handrails. So, the method is sticks to the edge of the next step - then one, two, three, hop. Then repeat. Now I so regret not keeping the weight off.
I made it to the top which would normally be the goal, but I then had to wedge in the corner and gasp for a bit, knowing this trip was two-way. Eventually the heart slowed down enough for the return trip, and down is lots easier. But then 3 steps down she wanted me on my bum-to-bum shuffle to the bottom. Back on my wheelchair and a fast ride back to ward, with wind in my hair and in my lungs
Fantastic, exhausting session - but apparently, I’d been successful. She said she was happy to sign me off for home and a huge weight lifted. I’d made the Beacon and reached my ice cream van!
But in my heart of hearts, I knew there was still lots of work to do to build up stamina for home life. (No assistance bell to push at home!). Plans were made for my home package – seats, Zimmers and loo risers, and then a visit to the Osteo department for boots and supports. All equipment then delivered home.
Thursday - The long, long day
The plan was for pick up at 4 pm. I needed stitches out of my foot, meds and paperwork. What could possibly go wrong?
I called my son Joe to pick me up at 4 pm. He said it might be a bit early for him as he was working so I asked him just to do his best.
Thereafter nothing much went to plan. My neighbour needed his wounds redressed so he could do physio - I got my stitches out about 4 pm, but still no paperwork. Joe had set off about 3:30 pm, arrived in the area about 6 pm but then had to find somewhere to park. Eventually my papers and meds appeared, I said my goodbyes to my ward families and sister fitted my new stormtrooper boot. And then they got me a porter to get me to Joe.
I called him and he told me where to meet him. Big hug with the ward sister and asked her to send my thanks to everyone involved in my care from cleaners to consultants -everyone had been fantastic.
Porter and a nurse took me out. Joe wasn’t there. They got me off their chair and unloaded my gear and left me on a bench in the drizzle. Bit harsh I thought but hey ho.
Joe was at the wrong pick-up point. He turned up and I tried to load me in the car across the back seats. Very uncomfortable. After a short drive we had a readjust and I put my leg between the front seats.
Home achieved at 9 pm. My dogs went mad - lovely homecoming. Then we shared a Chinese, had a gin and tonic, and Chilled.
Then the final hurdle – Stairs. Hopped up the first half, then on knees, which pulled really tight on my thigh stitching. I crawled across the bedroom and forced myself onto the bed with my good leg and then just laid waiting to see if I was going to have a heart attack or not. Eventually my breathing calmed down. We got comfy with our piles of leg pillows, had our first little cuddles in 3 weeks and drifted off.
What an adventure! Not the normal type with nice views and stories of fine foreign ales. But yet a true biker’s tale. Reading all your posts on Facebook has really helped us while we have been immobile.
Thank you. We really look forward to being involved again soon.
Stay safe out there X
Tracey and Paul
Notes:
- What Three Words - an incredibly useful App for giving your location to within 3 meters. Paramedic staff love it.