Table of Contents: The Big Bike Accident - September 1, 2004

My first day back was Wednesday the 8th. I had a really hard time waking up so early (7:30 a.m.). I'd been getting up a lot later. I did not have much energy. I had corresponded with several of the managers in the group earlier about letting people know individually about my accident so every new person that saw me didn't ask "Oh my God, what happened?" This approach had actually been the suggestion of one of them. I didn't want to use a mass e-mailing, as so many in the group do. I didn't want to make a big deal of it.

I decided to forgo coffee for no special reason other than it seemed to make sense. So I didn't have that extra kick to help me wake up. But I would make a steaming cup of tea when I got to work to make up for it. There was no way I was going to have nothing warm to drink! And, OK, so tea has some caffein. But not as much.

When I got to work, it seemed that no one had been told anything! I got the "Oh my God, what happened" from just about everyone. So I had to go through my explanation a number of times that day. My office is way in the back, so I was able to keep from seeing too many people at once when I first got in. People were great, though - supportive, and telling me that I didn't look that bad.

My day started with a meeting which I don't usually look forward to. In fact, for the past many months, (the project is nicknamed "HazMat") every Wednesday morning I'd wake up, and think "Fucking HazMat", referring to the 9:30 Wednesday meeting. Today, I couldn't think of anything I'd rather have done first thing in the morning. I got a chance to reconnect with my team, and I didn't have to think very hard. It was great to see everyone. Judy told a hilarious story about a bike accident she'd had (if you can imagine an accident being hilarious), and had me in stitches. She's a good story-teller.

At one point, Linda the project manager was going over some white board scribblings from a meeting earlier in the week, and I realized that I just wasn't processing them. I asked her whether I really needed to understand this, and thankfully I did not. I had a big mug of tea and a mug of banana/strawberry smoothie. I was alternately spooning their contents into my mouth, which was one of the only ways I could drink, at the time.

Before the accident, I'd been planning to start on some of the harder to do's when I got in the next day. Well that wasn't going to happen today. I needed to find some really easy tasks. I didn't even know if there would be any. I was feeling very groggy, and didn't want to make stupid mistakes in important places. I did manage to find enough to do to fill up about four hours. I never shook that sleepy feeling, even with a double does of tea. Eventually, the sleepiness increased to the point that I couldn't stay at work any longer, so I went home.

I went to bed, and despite the constant scream of circular saws next door, managed to eventually fall asleep. I did not get up until two hours had passed. The ratio of work-to-sleep wasn't great - I was hoping it would change soon. I was able to work for another hour, until Ian got home. I felt pretty energetic during dinner, so I decided to walk the dog, since Ian wouldn't be able to do so until much later, and she obviously was expecting an outing. I wasn't out very long, but I was exhausted when I got back. This worried me. I was able to work for another couple hours after dinner, just enough to finish up what I'd been working and to feel good about what I'd been able to accomplish that day.

The next day was a little easier. I continued to make progress on my to-do list, and there were two meetings. I lasted just a little bit longer, and then my attention span was shot. Even though there was an hour before my dentist appointment, I went home. I got a few minutes rest before I had to leave again for the appointment. After the appointment, I went to the bike shop and bought a new helmet. I knew I'd need one before I could ride even my mountain bike through town. I'd never ride without a helmet if I could help it!

Back home I was able to fit in an hour of work before Ian got home. Him arriving, plus the high energy of the dog, plus the loud chatter of our very loud neighbor was making me feel very stressed out. I needed to get away from this commotion. I went upstairs and laid down for awhile. I began feeling sorry for myself, which is something I'd tried very hard not to do and had been able to avoid since the accident. I feared that it was going to be months before I'd be able to resume normal life. I was wasting my evenings away, not getting any exercise, and not working on any of my projects. I missed my pre-accident life very much and wanted it back. Ian came upstairs and joined me. I told him how I was feeling.

At some point, he told me something really helpful. He'd talked to someone who knew that Vicodin stays in one's system a lot longer than one would think - for days, in fact. This could mean that my fatigue was really from Vicodin and not because of the accident. I had only just begun to cut way back on my Vicodin use, which meant that if my fatigue was not accident-related I ought to start feeling more chipper soon. I decided that no matter what, I was going to the gym tonight. I needed to regain a sense of normalcy.

I did not work that evening. I did not want to spend my evenings working. I didn't think that would help me freshen up for the next day, which I was obviously going to need to do. After letting my dinner digest for an hour or so, I headed off to the gym. This was the first time I'd appeared in public since leaving the E.R. I biked through town to the YMCA. I was a little nervous when I saw that the lobby was full of kids and parents, but getting through the area was uneventful. No one stared. I was happy that the Y was still here for me. It was like a life-long friend; no matter how long I was away, it was always there for me when I returned.

I did my weight routine, and could tell that I'd lost some ground. Then I prepared the stair machine for a very easy workout - only 15 minutes, and I kept the exertion level low. I took a look at the page I'd bookmarked in my book, and nothing looked familiar. I realized that I'd been away from it for so long I'd need to backtrack. As I flipped back through the pages, I could recall nothing of the story. I decided that I would just have to start over again. I think I might have started over before, because the first couple chapters seemed very familiar.

The 15 minutes passed quickly, and I knew I could do more. I resumed for another 15 minutes and began actually breathing a little harder. I didn't care how hard I worked, I just wanted to be there doing something. I knew that I'd build back my strength over time. I'd been sick many times and had to start over before. I would probably be sick many more times before I died, so I just didn't worry about it.

My third day back to work, Friday, I was feeling a lot better. It was still very hard to get up in the morning. We'd resumed our revered tradition of getting breakfast to-go from Eastern Accents. The barrista, whom I've always chatted with, was really glad to see me and told me that she'd been very worried about me. She was the mother of the previous barrista, and was from Indonesia. She was very motherly in her worry, and I was touched. It had not even occurred to me that she would worry. I'd figured that, at most, she probably wondered where I was last week.

I decided, against my better judgment, to get coffee, even though I'd felt a little sick to my stomach after finishing yesterday's huge mug of tea. The barrista and I were able to arrive at a pretty good compromise. I got a single shot of decaffeinated espresso in a huge mug of foamy milk - really a latte instead of my usual extra-strength dry cappuccino. I would have considered this drink to be for wussies before my accident, but today, it seemed like my safest bet.

I worked almost normally on Friday. I was plowing through my to-do list, and was reaching the point where I'd have to begin on the more thought-intensive work. Thankfully, that could wait until next week, when I'd be feeling even better. When the day was over, I had "church" to look forward to. It had almost felt like a normal Friday! I had even missed a dose of pain medication at the prescribed time and had not noticed. This was a great sign. It meant that my pain was fading away, and probably soon I would not even need the pain medication.

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Next: First Round of Appointments

Table of Contents: The Big Bike Accident - September 1, 2004