Friday, March 30, 2007
FATTY CHIPS AND STUFF..........
Back to physio today, as well as hydro.
The necks feeling a lot better than a couple of days ago.
I just wish someone would've told me how long I have to leave the dressing on.
If it starts looking too festy I'll get it seen to.
I popped in to see the girl in Epworth hospital, who was hospitalised at the time of our B & W party, she's doing well and will be going home in a couple of weeks.
It's been 6 weeks, I don't know where the time has gone.
Al's not doing real flash.
The possibility of amputation grows ever larger every day.
His pragmatic tendencies will no doubt help to get him through this experience, and hopefully my mate Dave can have a word with him at some point, seeing as he's gone through exactly the same thing.
I just remembered that I didn't revue the last fish 'n' chips form our local shop.
Not much to say, but it was pretty bad.
Everything was soaked in oil, to the point that I could have cold pressed the chips and ended up with more oil than there is on the outside of Christine's engine and transmission.
So the search for decent fish 'n' chips in Melbourne continues.
Finding the holy grail would've been easier!
Christine was not happy about the chip oil reference.
The necks feeling a lot better than a couple of days ago.
I just wish someone would've told me how long I have to leave the dressing on.
If it starts looking too festy I'll get it seen to.
I popped in to see the girl in Epworth hospital, who was hospitalised at the time of our B & W party, she's doing well and will be going home in a couple of weeks.
It's been 6 weeks, I don't know where the time has gone.
Al's not doing real flash.
The possibility of amputation grows ever larger every day.
His pragmatic tendencies will no doubt help to get him through this experience, and hopefully my mate Dave can have a word with him at some point, seeing as he's gone through exactly the same thing.
I just remembered that I didn't revue the last fish 'n' chips form our local shop.
Not much to say, but it was pretty bad.
Everything was soaked in oil, to the point that I could have cold pressed the chips and ended up with more oil than there is on the outside of Christine's engine and transmission.
So the search for decent fish 'n' chips in Melbourne continues.
Finding the holy grail would've been easier!
Christine was not happy about the chip oil reference.I found out that butchers will not give or sell blood due to health regulations preventing them from doing so.
I also found out that if you ask enough times and select the dodgiest people to ask you will eventually find a butcher that will part with the crimson liquid.
Not only will he part with it, but it will come all prepackaged in a little container straight out of the cool room!
Just goes to show, if you want something bad enough, there are ways and means of making it happen.
I'm slowly making further progress in the crutchless department and am able to 'walk' around the house, although the pain in the right leg and pelvis is still prevalent.
The knees are also protesting a bit, we'll see how that pans out over time.
The pain in general, is slowly dissipating, but it's taking its sweet time about it.
With time I am expecting to be relatively pain free in these areas.
For the moment I'll just keep doing what I'm doing as it seems to be working.
Been thinking about music and stuff too, have to do something about that as it's starting to screw with my head.
I don't know exactly what I'm going to do yet, but I guess the first step would be to buy a car, so I can actually get around with my gear. ( Christine's no good as my bass rig will never fit in )
Next step would be to figure out how the hell I'm going to get my bass rig in and out of the car, that should be good therapy!
Like I said: where there's a will, there's a way.
From there things will progress somehow and I'll be able to once again enjoy playing live music with a band.
I feel ready to lay down some seriously quality music on Melbourne, all I need is some seriously dedicated and gifted musos to do it with.
It's been far too long........
.
I also found out that if you ask enough times and select the dodgiest people to ask you will eventually find a butcher that will part with the crimson liquid.
Not only will he part with it, but it will come all prepackaged in a little container straight out of the cool room!
Just goes to show, if you want something bad enough, there are ways and means of making it happen.
I'm slowly making further progress in the crutchless department and am able to 'walk' around the house, although the pain in the right leg and pelvis is still prevalent.
The knees are also protesting a bit, we'll see how that pans out over time.
The pain in general, is slowly dissipating, but it's taking its sweet time about it.
With time I am expecting to be relatively pain free in these areas.
For the moment I'll just keep doing what I'm doing as it seems to be working.
Been thinking about music and stuff too, have to do something about that as it's starting to screw with my head.
I don't know exactly what I'm going to do yet, but I guess the first step would be to buy a car, so I can actually get around with my gear. ( Christine's no good as my bass rig will never fit in )
Next step would be to figure out how the hell I'm going to get my bass rig in and out of the car, that should be good therapy!
Like I said: where there's a will, there's a way.
From there things will progress somehow and I'll be able to once again enjoy playing live music with a band.
I feel ready to lay down some seriously quality music on Melbourne, all I need is some seriously dedicated and gifted musos to do it with.
It's been far too long........
.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
"OPERATION GO FOR THE JUGULAR"
Ok, for the squeamish amongst you, there is blood in this post, so I hope you're not eating breakfast. ( sis )
Having arrived at hospital at 8:30 am, I was put on a trolley and told to wait.
Wait is what I did, as I didn't have the procedure done until about 3 in the afternoon.
That gave me a lot of time to remind myself of the little things I hated about being an inpatient.
Things like crap daytime tv, those wonderful plastic lined sheets that make you sweat, the hospital issue arseless gown, having needles jammed in your veins, not being able to eat or drink until the procedure is over, etc.
Eventually I was wheeled into the room, where I learnt that I had been referring to this operation incorrectly.
The correct name for this bit of surgery should have been "Operation Go For The Jugular".
The filter was inserted in an artery in my groin, which was the cause of all the blood running down my arse, hence the name Baboon Butt.
I didn't realise that these contraptions can only go in and come out in the same direction.
This meant that in order to remove the filter, the medical staff would have to go in through my jugular vein!!!!
After receiving some wonderful drug cocktail through the IV line in my arm, I instantly got that funny metallic taste in my mouth and promptly fell into a state of "Ooohhh Yeah! You can do what ever the hell you like to me now and I wouldn't give a rat's arse coz I feel soooo good."
Before I knew it, I was being impaled on some long piece of medical extraction device.......... through the neck.
The whole procedure didn't take all that long really and in the end I was presented with the filter in a little jar as a keepsake.
How nice.
The good thing is I managed to convince one of the nurses, who turned out to be a budding photographer, to snap away while I was on the chopping board.
Lying in wait.
This is what they intended to ram down my neck!
Cover me! I'm going in!
Looking, looking........
The filter on screen with the extraction hook above it.
Got it!
Being wheeled out by the photographer nurse.
Post op. Dazed and confused, but still able to take a selfportrait.
I had no idea the filter was that bloody big!!!
You can see bits of me still stuck to it.
Having arrived at hospital at 8:30 am, I was put on a trolley and told to wait.
Wait is what I did, as I didn't have the procedure done until about 3 in the afternoon.
That gave me a lot of time to remind myself of the little things I hated about being an inpatient.
Things like crap daytime tv, those wonderful plastic lined sheets that make you sweat, the hospital issue arseless gown, having needles jammed in your veins, not being able to eat or drink until the procedure is over, etc.
Eventually I was wheeled into the room, where I learnt that I had been referring to this operation incorrectly.
The correct name for this bit of surgery should have been "Operation Go For The Jugular".
The filter was inserted in an artery in my groin, which was the cause of all the blood running down my arse, hence the name Baboon Butt.
I didn't realise that these contraptions can only go in and come out in the same direction.
This meant that in order to remove the filter, the medical staff would have to go in through my jugular vein!!!!
After receiving some wonderful drug cocktail through the IV line in my arm, I instantly got that funny metallic taste in my mouth and promptly fell into a state of "Ooohhh Yeah! You can do what ever the hell you like to me now and I wouldn't give a rat's arse coz I feel soooo good."
Before I knew it, I was being impaled on some long piece of medical extraction device.......... through the neck.
The whole procedure didn't take all that long really and in the end I was presented with the filter in a little jar as a keepsake.
How nice.
The good thing is I managed to convince one of the nurses, who turned out to be a budding photographer, to snap away while I was on the chopping board.
Lying in wait.
This is what they intended to ram down my neck!
Cover me! I'm going in!
Looking, looking........
The filter on screen with the extraction hook above it.
Got it!
Being wheeled out by the photographer nurse.
Post op. Dazed and confused, but still able to take a selfportrait.
I had no idea the filter was that bloody big!!!You can see bits of me still stuck to it.
After waiting for 2 hours under observation, I took off to another part of the hospital to visit Al.
Whilst there I was joined by Dean, who was riding behind him, his son Tony and my mum.
I was glad to see Al was all talk, it meant the drugs had worn off and he was returning back to his normal self.
I also noticed he was quite pissed off that after spending all that time building his hand up to the point where the movement in it exceeded the doctors highest expectations, he now has a smashed up arm from hand to shoulder, as well as no movement or sensation from the elbow down.
He was very keen to get walking again and is definitely feeling the affects of lying in a come for nearly two weeks, but he reckons he'll be able to walk to the loo and shower by the weekend.
Knowing him, I wouldn't be surprised.
He's always been a very independent bloke and the fact that he had to rely on the carers and mates and family to be able to do a lot of the things we take for granted was also pissing him off.
He didn't say anything, but you could read it on his face.
There were also complaints of crap daytime tv, those wonderful plastic lined sheets that make you sweat, the hospital issue arseless gown, having needles jammed in your veins, not being able to eat or drink until the procedure is over, etc.
Sound familiar?
It sure did to me.
As for the arm, well he still can't seem to get a definitive answer / decision on what's going to happen with it.
Yet another point of frustration.
Time to pay back some of that support I was getting when I was in that position.
.
Whilst there I was joined by Dean, who was riding behind him, his son Tony and my mum.
I was glad to see Al was all talk, it meant the drugs had worn off and he was returning back to his normal self.
I also noticed he was quite pissed off that after spending all that time building his hand up to the point where the movement in it exceeded the doctors highest expectations, he now has a smashed up arm from hand to shoulder, as well as no movement or sensation from the elbow down.
He was very keen to get walking again and is definitely feeling the affects of lying in a come for nearly two weeks, but he reckons he'll be able to walk to the loo and shower by the weekend.
Knowing him, I wouldn't be surprised.
He's always been a very independent bloke and the fact that he had to rely on the carers and mates and family to be able to do a lot of the things we take for granted was also pissing him off.
He didn't say anything, but you could read it on his face.
There were also complaints of crap daytime tv, those wonderful plastic lined sheets that make you sweat, the hospital issue arseless gown, having needles jammed in your veins, not being able to eat or drink until the procedure is over, etc.
Sound familiar?
It sure did to me.
As for the arm, well he still can't seem to get a definitive answer / decision on what's going to happen with it.
Yet another point of frustration.
Time to pay back some of that support I was getting when I was in that position.
.
Monday, March 26, 2007
A LITTLE ROCK 'N' ROLL AND A SPLASH OF BOOZE.........
I should be in rehab right now, but it seems there was some sort of mix up with the taxis.
I specifically informed reception that I'm having day surgery on Tuesday and asked if she could cancel Wednesday's taxi.
She's obviously cancelled the cabs for the entire week, oh well, looks like I get the day off.
Didn't much feel like jumping through hoops today anyway, especially after the weekend just gone.
Friday night I kept myself relatively nice and saw Silver City Highway playing at the Empress.
Saturday I took off to Sunshine of all places.
Diesel was playing there with support from The Sparrows and I also wanted to meet a band photographer.
She's based in Canberra and it was nice to be able to put a face to the person I've been talking to on DeviantArt for some time now.
We didn't get a hell of a lot of time to discuss photography as she was working, but it was still good.
I must say Diesel was pretty impressive and very entertaining.
I was expecting a full rock outfit instead of the acoustic guitar, bass and percussion.
Although stripped back like that, the arrangements and performance were incredibly dynamic with a fair bit of jamming / improvisation going on.
Even when he played some of those 'classics', the songs and his performance of them had evolved greatly over time.
Following that I popped into a birthday party for one of my mates Andy, who is usually plying me with bad beer at the Empress.
It's only natural, seeing as he's a barman there.
As a matter of fact there were a few bar people there as well as my housemate Gemma!
It is indeed a small place this city of 3 million people.
Around 8 in the morning the small bunch of people still partying had finally decided to go home, much to the relief of Andy, as by that stage his eyes were hanging out of his head, his jaw looked like it was about to leap off his face and he was in real danger of becoming incoherent.
This is what happens when you take the rugby ball off a bunch of Kiwis and replace it with the song 'The Gambler' by Kenny Rogers.
Let that be a warning to everyone.
Sunday had brought on a lovely hangover, which was dealt with by having lunch with Mum at the Quarry Hotel and a little hair of the dog on the side.
We were on our way to visit Al in hospital, but when I called him he said there was surgery coming up that day and it would be better to come another day.
He sounded very frustrated with the whole situation as he can't seem to get a really clear diagnosis / prognosis from the medical staff.
The amputation of his arm is still a strong possibility and the latest surgery is mainly to have a really close up look at the nerve and tendon damage in order to make a more thorough assessment.
As I'll be in the hospital for "Operation Baboon Butt" tomorrow, I'll hopefully get a chance to catch up with him then.
.
I specifically informed reception that I'm having day surgery on Tuesday and asked if she could cancel Wednesday's taxi.
She's obviously cancelled the cabs for the entire week, oh well, looks like I get the day off.
Didn't much feel like jumping through hoops today anyway, especially after the weekend just gone.
Friday night I kept myself relatively nice and saw Silver City Highway playing at the Empress.
Saturday I took off to Sunshine of all places.
Diesel was playing there with support from The Sparrows and I also wanted to meet a band photographer.
She's based in Canberra and it was nice to be able to put a face to the person I've been talking to on DeviantArt for some time now.
We didn't get a hell of a lot of time to discuss photography as she was working, but it was still good.
I must say Diesel was pretty impressive and very entertaining.
I was expecting a full rock outfit instead of the acoustic guitar, bass and percussion.
Although stripped back like that, the arrangements and performance were incredibly dynamic with a fair bit of jamming / improvisation going on.
Even when he played some of those 'classics', the songs and his performance of them had evolved greatly over time.
The Sparrows
Diesel
Following that I popped into a birthday party for one of my mates Andy, who is usually plying me with bad beer at the Empress.
It's only natural, seeing as he's a barman there.
As a matter of fact there were a few bar people there as well as my housemate Gemma!
It is indeed a small place this city of 3 million people.
Around 8 in the morning the small bunch of people still partying had finally decided to go home, much to the relief of Andy, as by that stage his eyes were hanging out of his head, his jaw looked like it was about to leap off his face and he was in real danger of becoming incoherent.
This is what happens when you take the rugby ball off a bunch of Kiwis and replace it with the song 'The Gambler' by Kenny Rogers.Let that be a warning to everyone.
Sunday had brought on a lovely hangover, which was dealt with by having lunch with Mum at the Quarry Hotel and a little hair of the dog on the side.
We were on our way to visit Al in hospital, but when I called him he said there was surgery coming up that day and it would be better to come another day.
He sounded very frustrated with the whole situation as he can't seem to get a really clear diagnosis / prognosis from the medical staff.
The amputation of his arm is still a strong possibility and the latest surgery is mainly to have a really close up look at the nerve and tendon damage in order to make a more thorough assessment.
As I'll be in the hospital for "Operation Baboon Butt" tomorrow, I'll hopefully get a chance to catch up with him then.
.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
BACK TO WORK AND THE RED ARSE BARON ........
So there I was, all contemplative after celebrating my one year anniversary.
A bit mopey, hibernating, thinking about 'stuff', when all of a sudden things took a bit of a turn.
Today I went to my former place of employment to discuss returning to work.
Apart from myself there were the occupational therapist, the service department manager, the occupational health and safety bloke and one of the directors.
We had a discussion regarding all the restrictions I have, the plan to slowly increase my work hours and amongst other things, what I would actually be doing there.
All this I was ready for.
What really threw me was when the director started asking me about what I want to be doing in the next 12- 18 months, where I see myself etc, even hinting at steering me towards a service advisor role, something I'd tried to steer clear of for some time due to the ridiculously long hours involved.
That I was completely unready for!
I tried to explain that at this point my focus was fairly short term and that I really couldn't give him an answer at this point.
I don't know how I feel about all that.
We'd decided that my starting day would be next Tuesday and that I will be doing 10 till 4 on Tuesdays and Thursdays until the next review.
At the end of the meeting I went downstairs to say g'day to some of my colleagues and then buggered off home.
I pulled the mail out of the mail box and noticed a letter form the Alfred Hospital.
It was from the radiology department, informing me that my day surgery is booked for the 27th / 02 / 2007.
I was a little confused as the 27th of February had obviously passed and I can't recall being poked or prodded that day.
During the phone call to radiology, I was informed that it was to be March not February.
"Operation Baboon Butt" is finally on!!!
That slightly clashed with my return to work program as that would make it next Tuesday.
Hmmmmm.
Decisions, decisions.
Go to work, or be poked and prodded and end up with an arse covered in blood?
In the end I felt it would be easier to postpone returning to work rather than trying to deal with the hospital.
So, here's to surgery number 11 and me returning to work.
'clink'
.
A bit mopey, hibernating, thinking about 'stuff', when all of a sudden things took a bit of a turn.
Today I went to my former place of employment to discuss returning to work.
Apart from myself there were the occupational therapist, the service department manager, the occupational health and safety bloke and one of the directors.
We had a discussion regarding all the restrictions I have, the plan to slowly increase my work hours and amongst other things, what I would actually be doing there.
All this I was ready for.
What really threw me was when the director started asking me about what I want to be doing in the next 12- 18 months, where I see myself etc, even hinting at steering me towards a service advisor role, something I'd tried to steer clear of for some time due to the ridiculously long hours involved.
That I was completely unready for!
I tried to explain that at this point my focus was fairly short term and that I really couldn't give him an answer at this point.
I don't know how I feel about all that.
We'd decided that my starting day would be next Tuesday and that I will be doing 10 till 4 on Tuesdays and Thursdays until the next review.
At the end of the meeting I went downstairs to say g'day to some of my colleagues and then buggered off home.
I pulled the mail out of the mail box and noticed a letter form the Alfred Hospital.
It was from the radiology department, informing me that my day surgery is booked for the 27th / 02 / 2007.
I was a little confused as the 27th of February had obviously passed and I can't recall being poked or prodded that day.
During the phone call to radiology, I was informed that it was to be March not February.
"Operation Baboon Butt" is finally on!!!
That slightly clashed with my return to work program as that would make it next Tuesday.
Hmmmmm.
Decisions, decisions.
Go to work, or be poked and prodded and end up with an arse covered in blood?
In the end I felt it would be easier to postpone returning to work rather than trying to deal with the hospital.
So, here's to surgery number 11 and me returning to work.
'clink'
.
Monday, March 19, 2007
ONE YEAR ON.........
So there it is.
12 months have past and many things have changed.
I for one, am glad that on this 17/18th of March I was able to walk a few steps around without any crutch at all.
It's not much, but considering that this time a year ago the only thing I could move was my head, I think it's a vast improvement.
There's nothing quite like lying on your side in the middle of a road, in the middle of the bush and, trying to move all the sore bits and pieces and finding you can't, to really put life in perspective.
From being but a smear upon the landscape to regaining the ability to perform something resembling walking, is pretty darn good as far as I'm concerned.
It's nice to be able to do all those things we generally take for granted, like having a shower ( took 2 weeks in hospital and even then it had to be done by nurses ), being able to go to the loo AND clean yourself up afterwards, having two hands available to 'do stuff', being able to catch a tram or drive a car ( obviously the bike thing is out of the question ), prepare a meal or even put on a barbecue!
I even spoke to the occupational therapist today and we'll be having a meeting with my new manager on Thursday in order to discuss a 'return to work' program.
As with a year ago, I'm still in pain, although it is just a fraction of what I felt back then.
A year ago it became very apparent that I was rather poorly when I tried to locate parts of my body that didn't hurt.
I ran out of parts very quickly.
I still don't know how I stayed conscious through it as my helmet had its own fractures bearing witness to the impacts involved, but it's not something I'll forget easily.
Especially with Al's smash occurring a week ago!
A year ago we and (Sydney) Geoff, John P., Gino and Adam were embarking on what was to be a weekend of cruising around the state on our two wheeled contraptions.
A year on and I'm still screwed up and Al's in the I.C.U., knocked out with drugs and facing amputation of his arm.
Life dances to a different beat than we mere mortals do.
Saturday's barbecue went very well, and couldn't have happened without the help of my mates.
It was good to see some of the people who had helped and supported me in the last 12 months and especially Al's family and friends.
I hadn't seen some of these fine people for too long a time and it was good to catch up and even have a chat about all the smashes and what not.
Consider it the kind of therapy americans pay a lot of money to other people for.
If only they had mates like mine.
I didn't know how Al's family would react to being invited to a barbie in the light of all that's happened in the last week, but I'm glad I did.
I think it did them some good to get a change of scenery and maybe see that eventually there is some light at the end of the convalescence tunnel.
12 months have past and many things have changed.
I for one, am glad that on this 17/18th of March I was able to walk a few steps around without any crutch at all.
It's not much, but considering that this time a year ago the only thing I could move was my head, I think it's a vast improvement.
There's nothing quite like lying on your side in the middle of a road, in the middle of the bush and, trying to move all the sore bits and pieces and finding you can't, to really put life in perspective.
From being but a smear upon the landscape to regaining the ability to perform something resembling walking, is pretty darn good as far as I'm concerned.
It's nice to be able to do all those things we generally take for granted, like having a shower ( took 2 weeks in hospital and even then it had to be done by nurses ), being able to go to the loo AND clean yourself up afterwards, having two hands available to 'do stuff', being able to catch a tram or drive a car ( obviously the bike thing is out of the question ), prepare a meal or even put on a barbecue!
I even spoke to the occupational therapist today and we'll be having a meeting with my new manager on Thursday in order to discuss a 'return to work' program.
As with a year ago, I'm still in pain, although it is just a fraction of what I felt back then.
A year ago it became very apparent that I was rather poorly when I tried to locate parts of my body that didn't hurt.
I ran out of parts very quickly.
I still don't know how I stayed conscious through it as my helmet had its own fractures bearing witness to the impacts involved, but it's not something I'll forget easily.
Especially with Al's smash occurring a week ago!
A year ago we and (Sydney) Geoff, John P., Gino and Adam were embarking on what was to be a weekend of cruising around the state on our two wheeled contraptions.
A year on and I'm still screwed up and Al's in the I.C.U., knocked out with drugs and facing amputation of his arm.
Life dances to a different beat than we mere mortals do.
Saturday's barbecue went very well, and couldn't have happened without the help of my mates.
It was good to see some of the people who had helped and supported me in the last 12 months and especially Al's family and friends.
I hadn't seen some of these fine people for too long a time and it was good to catch up and even have a chat about all the smashes and what not.
Consider it the kind of therapy americans pay a lot of money to other people for.
If only they had mates like mine.
I didn't know how Al's family would react to being invited to a barbie in the light of all that's happened in the last week, but I'm glad I did.
I think it did them some good to get a change of scenery and maybe see that eventually there is some light at the end of the convalescence tunnel.
That's me being all ghostly like. I guess I came very close to becoming one..
Friday, March 16, 2007
AT LEAST MY SORE BITS AREN'T FACING AMPUTATION...........
That'll learn me to go gallivanting off into the wild hinterland of the Victorian west coast!
Been paying for it ever since, although today it's a little betterer.
All that walking, driving in the car and general activity has certainly been good physio in the sense that it has built up my stamina and strength, but did my poor broken arse and legs have to hurt so much?
I didn't realise it at the time, but it was exactly a year since Gino and I took off for a Moomins adventure in the Grampians where I nearly died of thirst and heat stroke.
I think it was a fitting way to slip back into the Moomins attitude of searching out adventures far and wide.
It certainly was a bit of an encouraging boost to my confidence, knowing that I can engage in some of the activities I was so fond of before, without anyone's help.
Granted I did it in a cage instead of on two wheels, which some of my mates may scoff at, but reality is what it is and I just do what I can in the circumstances.
Now that I've got a taste for it, I'm keener than mustard to get out more often, preferably to some locations where I can go a little nuts with the camera.
Tonight it's time for another episode in the 'quest for decent fish and chips' drama.
On Bec's recommendation we will be sampling the piscetorial and tuberous culinary presentation of a local take away shop, reliably purported to supply quallity F&C at a reasonable price.
Can't wait to sample the oil and salt covered goodness.
Wouldn't it be nice if it turned out to be the one shop that I've been searching for all this time and is located right here in my backyard?
Well, the news about Al is that he isn't.
He's responding to stimuli, but is still heavily sedated and the quacks are trying to figure out whether to amputate his arm or not.
His son Tony has started a blog: Two Wheel Rosella, in order for friends to keep track of the progress.
As some of the readers of my blog are friends and acquaintances of his, I've put a link to it in the sidebar.
I just remembered that I'd posted a photo of him not long after he put his hand through a band saw a while back.
In it you can see him wearing the brace on his right hand.
And to think that it had pretty much all healed up nicely and then bang!
.
Been paying for it ever since, although today it's a little betterer.
All that walking, driving in the car and general activity has certainly been good physio in the sense that it has built up my stamina and strength, but did my poor broken arse and legs have to hurt so much?
I didn't realise it at the time, but it was exactly a year since Gino and I took off for a Moomins adventure in the Grampians where I nearly died of thirst and heat stroke.
I think it was a fitting way to slip back into the Moomins attitude of searching out adventures far and wide.
It certainly was a bit of an encouraging boost to my confidence, knowing that I can engage in some of the activities I was so fond of before, without anyone's help.
Granted I did it in a cage instead of on two wheels, which some of my mates may scoff at, but reality is what it is and I just do what I can in the circumstances.
Now that I've got a taste for it, I'm keener than mustard to get out more often, preferably to some locations where I can go a little nuts with the camera.
Tonight it's time for another episode in the 'quest for decent fish and chips' drama.
On Bec's recommendation we will be sampling the piscetorial and tuberous culinary presentation of a local take away shop, reliably purported to supply quallity F&C at a reasonable price.
Can't wait to sample the oil and salt covered goodness.
Wouldn't it be nice if it turned out to be the one shop that I've been searching for all this time and is located right here in my backyard?
Well, the news about Al is that he isn't.
He's responding to stimuli, but is still heavily sedated and the quacks are trying to figure out whether to amputate his arm or not.
His son Tony has started a blog: Two Wheel Rosella, in order for friends to keep track of the progress.
As some of the readers of my blog are friends and acquaintances of his, I've put a link to it in the sidebar.
I just remembered that I'd posted a photo of him not long after he put his hand through a band saw a while back.
In it you can see him wearing the brace on his right hand.
And to think that it had pretty much all healed up nicely and then bang!
.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
14 DAYS
I have been quite enjoying the self imposed internet abstinence, but it had to come to an end eventually I guess.
I have finally got the wireless 'thingy' repaired and am fully connected, well as soon as I can get my computer to talk to the bloody router!!! ( here's where my two computer savvy housemates enter into the picture ;)
A lot can happen in two weeks.
The Sydney Road Festival was on ( photos to come later ), Cam finally left for the land of grey ( U.K. ) last Sunday, I went down to Cape Otway over the weekend and Al had a collision with a 4x4 ute on Saturday.
He's currently in a medically induced coma at the Alfred hospital intensive care unit.
Before taking off in a big iron bird, Cam had entrusted his Christine to my care.
Christine, for those not familiar with her, is a big 70's XB Ford Falcon, cream / beige in colour, with a penchant for cruising the highways and byways of this fair state.
All it asks for is a little oil and water every now and again, and a shitload of petrol to fuel its automatic 4.1 litre 6 cylinder drivetrain.
In the tradition of all that is 70's, it has two brown vinyl upholstered bench seats, so it can happily accommodate 6 fully grown adults in style and comfort.
The two spare tyres are both flat ( who needs a spare?! ), the oil cap and fuel caps had absconded long ago, there are more holes in the exhaust system than Johnny Howard's argument for using 'clean coal technology', the rust is actually holding a couple of the doors and the driver's floorpan together, one of the hubcaps falls off occasionally so you're always on the listen for the telltale ring bang ding, the fuel gauge only goes half way regardless of how much fuel is in the tank, the headlights would be well augmented by holding a zippo lighter out of the window, the outer door handles break in typical Falcon fashion and there is more oil on the outside of the engine than in it.
Having said all that, the damned thing just keeps truckin' and has been on many an outing far and wide, as well as possessing an amazing ability to preserve one's licence.
One can not speed in that automobile.
Not because it's not capable of breaking the speed limit, but more that one just can't be arsed rushing in a cruiser like that.
Driving this car requires some easy listening / reggae / funk on the radio and a hat.
A can of beer or joint help too.
Finding myself with the prospect of a long weekend and vehicle at my disposal, I decided to throw caution to the wind and head down to Blanket Bay at Cape Otway.
I hadn't been there since about a year and a half ago and felt about overdue for an escape form the urban sprawl that is Melbourne.
Having traversed about half the distance I got a phone call form Kerry.
That's when I received the really shitty news about Al's high speed meeting with the 4x4 that morning.
Apparently he'd come a cropper close to where I had my collision with the semi nearly 12 months ago.
I was looking forward to having him over at the bbq this Saturday.
It's meant to be a thank you bbq for all those who have helped and supported me during my recovery, I'm guessing it'll be a bit of a hollow celebration.
As always, I had pulled off the road to answer the call, and stayed there for a while after hanging up.
I eventually decided that it was best I keep moving and try not to dwell on it too much.
Easier said than done.
I eventually made it to Blanket Bay and reacquainted myself with the beautiful beach and rocks, which meet the southern ocean.
Being a long weekend, there were more people than you could poke a stick at and all the camping sites were well occupied.
I was fortunate enough to find a secluded solitary spot just out of Blanket Bay.
I didn't take a tent as I was pretty positive it wasn't going to rain and instead slept on an air bed next to the car ( in case any branches were to fall down during the night ).
It was absolutely awesome to be sleeping in the middle of the bush, under the starry southern sky, with nothing but the grunting koalas to keep me company all night.
The next morning I was hoping for some sunrise light in order to take some photos of the amazing rocky coastline.
All I got was overcast greyness.
None the less I spent some time in the cave ( a cave facing the sea where my mates and I spent a lot of time 18 months ago just hanging out drinking beer, and contemplating life, universe and everything, whilst listening to the droning bassy hum the wind was creating as it blew itself into and out of the cave ), watching a lone cray fishing boat go about it's business of pulling up pots.
Whilst waiting for the sun to tear apart the clouds I built a rock sculpture ( as I'd done previously ), although this time I was limited as to the size of the rocks I could use due to having one arm preoccupied with wielding the crutch.
Eventually I realised that the sun was not coming out and decided to go exploring over the rocky shore.
Even on one crutch I got further than any other time I'd been there and ended up taking some photos for the hell of it anyway.
I stupidly chose to drive back along the Great Ocean Road.
It meant being stuck behind people doing 40km/h and rubber necking at the scenery or behind great big lumps of 4x4's loafing about and generally getting in the way.
I saw one 3 car pile up in a seaside town and it was completely beyond me how they managed that doing the 40/50km per hour with cars and pedestrians everywhere.
Having had very little luck finding decent fish and chips of late I decided to stop off at a rather unassuming take away shop in Anglesea and give their fare a try.
After about 10 minutes I took my paper wrapped packet of salty and oily goodness down to Bells Beach and proceeded to tuck in, with a semi warm can of VB to wash it down with.
The fish was not oil soaked, but had just the right consistency with batter that was just brown enough.
Both had the kind of structural integrity that would be the envy of many an engineering feat and the size of the shark fillet wasn't too bad either.
Where the whole thing fell down as a package was the in the chips department.
They were just too damn soggy and had the consistency of a freshly soaked sponge.
Still, it was a vast improvement over the past samples and a disappointment that it was only available over 100km out of Melbourne!
As I'd gotten closer to Melbourne I spotted a gaggle of about 10 harley davidsons ahead.
Not long after that I came across a blockage in the road and no prizes for guessing as to what the cause was.
There in the middle of the road were two of the things, broken down.
And with typical harley arrogance, instead of pushing their useless boat moorings out of the way, they just left the paint shakers where they'd shat themselves to block up 1 out of 3 lanes.
Bloody typical.....
Monday, I spent some time at Moomba with mum, walking around and checking out all the sights and sounds, watching water skiing, laughing at the punters on the rides, etc.
Quite an enjoyable afternoon although, I was pretty knackered after all that and ended up having a quiet one in that night.
Overall, a great weekend, although I've been paying for it ever since.
Today is Wednesday and I'm still sore as!!!!
Hopefully will come right by the weekend.
Here's hoping that Al will come out of it as soon and best as possible.
.
I have finally got the wireless 'thingy' repaired and am fully connected, well as soon as I can get my computer to talk to the bloody router!!! ( here's where my two computer savvy housemates enter into the picture ;)
A lot can happen in two weeks.
The Sydney Road Festival was on ( photos to come later ), Cam finally left for the land of grey ( U.K. ) last Sunday, I went down to Cape Otway over the weekend and Al had a collision with a 4x4 ute on Saturday.
He's currently in a medically induced coma at the Alfred hospital intensive care unit.
Before taking off in a big iron bird, Cam had entrusted his Christine to my care.
Christine, for those not familiar with her, is a big 70's XB Ford Falcon, cream / beige in colour, with a penchant for cruising the highways and byways of this fair state.
All it asks for is a little oil and water every now and again, and a shitload of petrol to fuel its automatic 4.1 litre 6 cylinder drivetrain.
In the tradition of all that is 70's, it has two brown vinyl upholstered bench seats, so it can happily accommodate 6 fully grown adults in style and comfort.
The two spare tyres are both flat ( who needs a spare?! ), the oil cap and fuel caps had absconded long ago, there are more holes in the exhaust system than Johnny Howard's argument for using 'clean coal technology', the rust is actually holding a couple of the doors and the driver's floorpan together, one of the hubcaps falls off occasionally so you're always on the listen for the telltale ring bang ding, the fuel gauge only goes half way regardless of how much fuel is in the tank, the headlights would be well augmented by holding a zippo lighter out of the window, the outer door handles break in typical Falcon fashion and there is more oil on the outside of the engine than in it.
Having said all that, the damned thing just keeps truckin' and has been on many an outing far and wide, as well as possessing an amazing ability to preserve one's licence.
One can not speed in that automobile.
Not because it's not capable of breaking the speed limit, but more that one just can't be arsed rushing in a cruiser like that.
Driving this car requires some easy listening / reggae / funk on the radio and a hat.
A can of beer or joint help too.
Finding myself with the prospect of a long weekend and vehicle at my disposal, I decided to throw caution to the wind and head down to Blanket Bay at Cape Otway.
I hadn't been there since about a year and a half ago and felt about overdue for an escape form the urban sprawl that is Melbourne.
Having traversed about half the distance I got a phone call form Kerry.
That's when I received the really shitty news about Al's high speed meeting with the 4x4 that morning.
Apparently he'd come a cropper close to where I had my collision with the semi nearly 12 months ago.
I was looking forward to having him over at the bbq this Saturday.
It's meant to be a thank you bbq for all those who have helped and supported me during my recovery, I'm guessing it'll be a bit of a hollow celebration.
As always, I had pulled off the road to answer the call, and stayed there for a while after hanging up.
I eventually decided that it was best I keep moving and try not to dwell on it too much.
Easier said than done.
I eventually made it to Blanket Bay and reacquainted myself with the beautiful beach and rocks, which meet the southern ocean.
Being a long weekend, there were more people than you could poke a stick at and all the camping sites were well occupied.
I was fortunate enough to find a secluded solitary spot just out of Blanket Bay.
I didn't take a tent as I was pretty positive it wasn't going to rain and instead slept on an air bed next to the car ( in case any branches were to fall down during the night ).
It was absolutely awesome to be sleeping in the middle of the bush, under the starry southern sky, with nothing but the grunting koalas to keep me company all night.
The next morning I was hoping for some sunrise light in order to take some photos of the amazing rocky coastline.
All I got was overcast greyness.
None the less I spent some time in the cave ( a cave facing the sea where my mates and I spent a lot of time 18 months ago just hanging out drinking beer, and contemplating life, universe and everything, whilst listening to the droning bassy hum the wind was creating as it blew itself into and out of the cave ), watching a lone cray fishing boat go about it's business of pulling up pots.
Whilst waiting for the sun to tear apart the clouds I built a rock sculpture ( as I'd done previously ), although this time I was limited as to the size of the rocks I could use due to having one arm preoccupied with wielding the crutch.
Eventually I realised that the sun was not coming out and decided to go exploring over the rocky shore.
Even on one crutch I got further than any other time I'd been there and ended up taking some photos for the hell of it anyway.
I stupidly chose to drive back along the Great Ocean Road.
It meant being stuck behind people doing 40km/h and rubber necking at the scenery or behind great big lumps of 4x4's loafing about and generally getting in the way.
I saw one 3 car pile up in a seaside town and it was completely beyond me how they managed that doing the 40/50km per hour with cars and pedestrians everywhere.
Having had very little luck finding decent fish and chips of late I decided to stop off at a rather unassuming take away shop in Anglesea and give their fare a try.
After about 10 minutes I took my paper wrapped packet of salty and oily goodness down to Bells Beach and proceeded to tuck in, with a semi warm can of VB to wash it down with.
The fish was not oil soaked, but had just the right consistency with batter that was just brown enough.
Both had the kind of structural integrity that would be the envy of many an engineering feat and the size of the shark fillet wasn't too bad either.
Where the whole thing fell down as a package was the in the chips department.
They were just too damn soggy and had the consistency of a freshly soaked sponge.
Still, it was a vast improvement over the past samples and a disappointment that it was only available over 100km out of Melbourne!
As I'd gotten closer to Melbourne I spotted a gaggle of about 10 harley davidsons ahead.
Not long after that I came across a blockage in the road and no prizes for guessing as to what the cause was.
There in the middle of the road were two of the things, broken down.
And with typical harley arrogance, instead of pushing their useless boat moorings out of the way, they just left the paint shakers where they'd shat themselves to block up 1 out of 3 lanes.
Bloody typical.....
Monday, I spent some time at Moomba with mum, walking around and checking out all the sights and sounds, watching water skiing, laughing at the punters on the rides, etc.
Quite an enjoyable afternoon although, I was pretty knackered after all that and ended up having a quiet one in that night.
Overall, a great weekend, although I've been paying for it ever since.
Today is Wednesday and I'm still sore as!!!!
Hopefully will come right by the weekend.
Here's hoping that Al will come out of it as soon and best as possible.
.
