A short catalogue entry, for the sake of getting it down in ASCII:
- Fractured tibia, just below the plate of the knee joint. It was screwed together in France, and the screws will come out in a couple of years. Apparently it may give me arthritis in later life, but that might happen anyway, and in 20 years I can get it replaced anyhow. Pictures at geoff’s blog
- Damaged spleen; described to me as a bag of blancmange, slightly fractured. Had I been in the USA it would have been whipped out, but the French way was to dry me out on nil-by-mouth for several days (in case of sudden need to operate) and keep me alive via glucose and saline IV.
The French prefer to avoid intervention unless necessary.
The spleen has some small benefit in preventing infection, though you can live without it. According to my CT scan last week there is a small haemotoma (blood blister) on the surface, butthat will clear up on its own. Damaged spleens tend to remain a bit fragile, so I should avoid being in further car crashes, etc.
- Damaaged left kidney; see spleen above, regarding “let it be” treatment. Over the course of several days, urine went from “Tea” to “Port” to “Irn Bru” to “Fosters”, and I have rarely been happier than to see Lager. Apparently the kidney took a bigger mashup than the spleen (less protection) but they recover better. Should be dandy from now on.
- Ribs; apparently I’ve cracked 10 ribs, but this number goes up and down depending to whom you talk and what you ask; most of the damage to ribs is on the left in the form of traditional cracks, sometimes several cracks in the same rib. I’m told this will all sort itself out eventially, but it’s odd to feel clicking when breathing in deeply. More seriously I cracked 2 or 3 right ribs mere centimeters from the spine, implying a massive back impact that could have left me in a wheelchair had I not been wearing my Knox Back Armour.
- Chest wall and gut; basically my entire left side from armpit to knee, and my tummy, has been pummelled. The flesh is swollen, internals are bruised, and there’s a purse-stitched hole under my armpit where the drain used to reside. The colours are fading (hooray) but it’ll be a couple of weeks before I approach normal.
- Leg muscles; 50% of normal size, due to under-use; the CPM machine is turning what remains into jelly, but that’s probably a good thing, long term.
- Scars: one chest drain, a couple of screw holes and a small incision on the knee, and that’s it. Hardly sexy.
So I’ll live, and will make prettymuch a complete recovery, and probably show few physical symptoms after 6 months. Everything currently works, although aches and pains abound. I’m fortunate in many ways, not least in my insistence in having good kit, most expecially the back armour which I consider the best 90 quid I ever spent. If you are a biker, get some of the same.
Socially and administratively I’ve put my life on hold; getting better is my #1 priority, and so insurance hassle can wait a little longer.
I summarised the situation to my family as follows: I now feel I’ve had the disreputable childhood I always wanted; it’s with some interest I look forward to seeing what happens next.
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