Racing

I got round to having a look at the x-ray taken of my femur last week. As I said at the time, it doesn't look like it's made much progress. Judge for yourselves...

I noodled with the viewing tool you get with the x-rays and added the measurements of the gap. Hmmm - 29.9mm is more than an inch!

Things have changed significantly for me in two days. Now I'm on crutches, with permission to drive, my horizons have expanded enormously. Yesterday I went into the office, had a chat with our HR person and agreed a timetable for a gradual return to work. And saw my boss, who is very keen for me to get back. And caught up with all my collegues, which was great.

Crikey, but I was knackered by the evening, tho! Moving on crutches is hard, especially when the rest of your body has done bugger all for ten weeks. I'm hoping it gets easier. And also that my weight loss stops now - I'm down over a stone since the accident, but moving about will hopefully stop the muscle loss.

Today I popped over to see my mum, and tonight I'm taking my girlfriend out for dinner. It's almost like being normal!

Today was a big day.

First, the not so good news - the x-ray of my right femur shows little or no improvement. The consultant seemed relatively sanguine about this (I guess that's his bedside manner), but wants to wait 6 more weeks, and if nothing is still happening then it'll be time for more surgery.

But now for the good news - the left tibia is declared 'fixed', and I'm up on crutches. The doc wants me to 'stimulate' the femur a little by giving it a tiny taste of weight-bearing - starting at 10% now, and rising to 30% over the six weeks. So, I shook hands with the doc and headed down the corridor to see Louise my physio, who was nearly as excited as I was. With the aid of a set of scales we found that 10% of my weight is basically my leg, relaxed (which makes a sort of sense), so I can do what is called 'touch weight bearing'. And then it was up onto the crutches, and learning how to walk again. Which takes a fair amount of concentration, and is moderately hard work physically (and I have to be careful with the femur) but God it feels to good to be up on two legs. I had a brief moment of emotion, but Louise said not to worry, as she averages two patients a week crying on her.

And not only, but also - I've been given official medical approval to drive! So I may pop into work tomorrow. Because I can.

Yesterday my good friend Steve payed a visit, and turned up with a motorcycle and sidecar - he's one of a number of friends who are turning to such devices in their middle years. I guess there's worse perversions.

So, I climbed into the chair, Fiona got on the back, and Steve took us for a 5 mile run round. It was bloody great! Apparently, at one point we reached a heady 65mph! I was actually dead easy to get in and out of the chair, tho there was the small problem of what to do with the wheelchair (F stuck it back in the flat).

Tomorrow is the day for new x-rays of my legs, and all sorts of decisions to follow thereafter. Watch this space.

A few little details to report, but not much proper progress.

I managed to borrow an exercise bike (thanks Rudy), and have been doing two 20 minute sessions a day. Sometimes while watching the Tour De France on TV. Althought I've kept the resistance low, it's been great to actually get my heart and lungs working, and even break sweat. According to my heart rate monitor, I've been getting my heart up to around 100bpm, which is ok for now.

I also swapped some emails with Andy Mackay, who was the chief sector marshal at the point where I had my accident. I asked him how I crashed (as I have no memory of it), and he replied with the following:

As for what happened, well, you appeared to come into the kink before the bridge too quickly and when you realised you'd overcooked it you sat up and grabbed the front brake. When passing our point at the end if the coast road your back wheel was a couple of feet into the air and you were starting to go over the front. At this point you parted from the bike and it scuttled off to the left, clipping a bank and running back across the road and hitting the other side quite gently. Unfortunately, that was the only gentle bit of the incident. You, having parted from the bike, flew through the air at about six foot straight into a telegraph pole, which I swear is now bent backwards slightly! The pole protector was hardly marked by the way, so thanks for that! Given the force of the impact we initially feared the worst, but we never give up, so on reaching you we got to work and one way or another got you sorted and away in the ambulance (with a Police escort no less!). As the scruts needed to take the bike and measure up the scene, and we had to do statements for the Police, things were a bit delayed, but once we got underway again we soon got messages back through the Police and the Medics that you had perked up a good bit on route to Nobles, which cheered us all up no end!

As I've said before, if it wasn't for Andy and his team, I wouldn't be here now, so I obviously owe them a great deal. I shall try to repay them, in beer, next time I'm on the Isle of Man.

I have my next appointment with Mr Holt, my leg consultant, a week tomorrow. This will be 10 weeks (and a couple of days) post-op. We'll see what the x-rays reveal this time...