March 12th 2002, approx 10:30am
The day of Ironies!
I was riding my beloved Kawasaki Ninja to the Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh for a pre-op on a shoulder injury that I had. I'd decided to take the bike as parking was a nightmare & was just coming up to Blackhall when a white van pulled right across my lane from the other side of the road, hoping to fire into the side street on my left.
He'd run a bit of a light & obviously didn't look & *BANG* - Ouchie - I got T-boned.
I flipped over the bike & twisted in mid air. The base of my back hit where the windscreen & roof join, my head & shoulders went through the sunroof & my legs went through the windscreen, literally snapping me in half, backwards.
He then braked (as you might) & I got lobbed back out of said white van. I didn't even have time to nick the change out of his ashtray. After bouncing along the ground for a while, in true motorbiker fashion, I tried to sit up, at which point my body said "ooooh no you dont" & groundwards I went. I tried to crawl towards the bike hoping against hope it wasn't as hurt as I was feeling...I got about four inches.
Two lovely women came to help me, I was a bit of a state at first, pretty confused but they were great & sat with me the whole time. I later found out that both of them (along with three other bystanders) were admitted to hospital for shock, they thought they had just witnessed someone being killed.
After a while I started to calm down, my brain was telling me that my body was not impressed by my gymnastics in the slightest & as such was going on strike. Permanently. It was shutting my body down. I was lying in the road, thinking "I'm dying. Im f*cking dying. I got hit at a pissy 20mph & it's going to kill me"
It was around that time that I came to a cross roads (if you pardon the pun) I could either go out crying & whining or I could go out being me. I chose the latter (not the best choice for some of you admittedly), but I had to make a quick choice & was under pressure!
So I started messing about & joking with the lovely ladies & when the police arrived when asked if I was ok, I said "Yeah I'm great, just having a wee lie down". It kinda threw them a bit & may have gone against me, but when your brain is telling you that you're dying, you don't really think about much further than the next few minutes. By the time the ambulance arrived pain like you wouldn't believe was beginning to spiral into me. They let me take my helmet off & the first thing I do? You guessed it, tried to find my cigarettes. I don't think they were overly impressed!
They began to put me onto a back board, where the two pieces clip in the middle to minimise movememt in spinal injuries. I remember the pain to this day...as they caught about an inch square of my left arse cheek between the boards. Oh my giddy aunt, that brought tears to the eyes!
So I'm in the ambulance, the blues & two's going for it & the young female paramedic was trying to take my stats as I was trying to chat her up (I swear there is something seriously wrong with me) & I don't recall this bit, but it was later retold in the hospital serveral times.
I took my mobile out & called my pops, Geoff to let him know what had happened. Opening line;
"Hey dad, some pr*ck just wiped me out on the bike"
"You're joking, what happened?"
"He broke my baby the bastard"
"Are you ok, are you hurt?!"
"Yeah, my left arse cheek is nipping like hell"
Arriving at the hospital the pain was REALLY kicking in. I can't explain to you how it felt, but I wouldn't reccommend trying it out to find out. After the morphine shot, people started rushing around & the crash team arrived. There was at least eight medical staff around me doing their thing & the pain was unbelievable by this point. I was getting a bit arsey, just wanting to be left alone for a minute, to be honest I still didn't know what was wrong with me & still had the feeling that I was dying (& I wasn't enjoying the experience to be honest). So I started to ask questions, then shouting questions & as the shock wore off, it was all about the pain & there was a lot of it.
They cut my leathers off me (probably one of the most painful parts of the incident as it was only the 5th time I'd worn them) £1800 worth of Dainese T-Age loveliness now in pieces. Bollocks. Then came the moment I'll not forget in a hurry. Firstly, cathator - Ouchies! Then the doc saying "I need to check your sphyncter muscles". To the point my reply was simple - "trust me love, you wouldn't get a fag paper between my arse cheeks right now"
Final diagnosis. Back broken in three places, many broken ribs, broken shoulder & quite possibly the sorest pair of bollocks on the planet (they twatted off the petrol tank on the way over)
After a three week stay in hospital I signed myself out. It was a filthy, dirty toilet of a place & many of the staff didn't have a scooby how to manage severe spinal injuries (one tried to pull me out of bed to eat breakfast) Words were said. Not very nice ones either. One full body brace, two crutches (I refused to get in a wheelchair, I'll explain why later) one very large bag full of very strong pills & escape to freedom. First place I wanna go? Yes, you guessed it, to see my baby, (the bike that is).
Got to the shop where they took my bike & just wanted to cry, my baby was mashed...