A time to laugh - Act 2

I ended up with enough entries in my first write, so decided to split them into two sections of more readable snippets.  Enjoy (or at least you will see, as many have noted before, I do have a warped sense of humor)....

  • Thank goodness for a resourceful wife!  In my early days at Harborview, long before I had any arm movement at all, I had to be fed by family, friends or occasionally by Harborview staff when available.  On one such occasion I found myself alone with my l lunch tray before me, yet no way to call for nursing or other such help, as I could not even operate a call button or switch.  Gwen had realized that no one would be there to assist me that day, so she called the Virginia Mason ER to ask if one of the ER techs could break away from VM to travel the 5 blocks to Harborview to feed me lunch.  As luck would have it, one was available as the ER was not busy (aka quiet - a word we NEVER say in the ER itself).  So unexpected by me, in comes my co-worker from VM dressed in VM ER work attire, informing me he was sent by my wife Gwen to feed me lunch at Harborview, before returning to work duty in the ER at VM.


  • I have already mentioned a bit of my bicycling endeavors, still the first recumbent training ride was the most humorous with Keith and I going down twice to the asphalt (now with a bit more details).  Again at this early point in my recovery I could not rollover, stand or walk without significant assistance.  The first low speed tumble came as we cycled uphill as Keith downshifted only to have the chain derail and fall off.  He put his feet out to keep us upright, mine too weak to assist.  Then reaching behind and underneath himself he tried with one hand to get the chain back onto a smaller chainring.  So here we were on an uphill rise with Keith struggling to balance the weight of us and the tandem, brakes on with one hand so we don't roll backwards, the other hand trying to re-engage the chain behind and underneath him.  Myself entertained watching him juggle all this as we slowly began to roll over to our left, Keith struggling with all his might to keep us upright, landing close to the yellow midline of the road.  I landed face down as softly as one can land on asphalt, immediately laughing at the situation, Keith was not so entertained.  After untangling himself from the bike, he had to roll me face up and get me out of the middle of the road.  A couple of passing motorists came to our aid, Keith getting the bike pointed back downhill with me on it, and away we went.


  • The second spill, which followed the first by perhaps 20 minutes, found us headed up a steep pitch on High School Road, the same road I was originally hit on in 2004.  On this occasion my cleated foot came off the pedal causing us to immediately loose all momentum and fall to our right, myself landing twisted against the curb.  While lying prone on the street before Keith could sit me upright, an alarmed motorist remarked that I appeared to be seriously injured. I assured her those injuries were from an earlier bicycle accident, and that I would be fine this time.  At that point another motorist informed us that on his scanner he had heard the medics dispatched to the scene.  My response was that we needed to get away from the scene as quickly as possible; I was not yet ready to see the medics again.  So Keith got me upright with my gait belt, we crossed the street to point downhill, myself holding onto mailboxes for stability, we then got on the tandem and rode away from the area to avoid the medics.  Little did I know by then we were actually being followed by the chief of police in his unmarked car as we rode into Keith's open garage. Though the officer later told me he was baffled by the sudden closure of the garage door, he figured we must not be hurt and the medics were called off.