I have few recollections of what occurred at the time of the crash, and recall little of the days immediately following it. What follows then is the best I can do describing my crash of April 14th, 2024, and ongoing recovery. I did my final monthly update on December 31st, 8.5 months after the crash. I may consider a quarterly update or two, as I will likely either return to work or retire in 2025.
Note: I would have preferred to write this much earlier than I did, but I could only type well enough as of August 6th (when I published the first part of this), barely, to do so. If nothing else, the writing and the thinking were both excellent therapy.
The Crash
I went out for a bit of a joyride on the afternoon of Sunday, April 14th. I usually head out for an hour or two and do 30-60km on these types of rides. Beyond that it was a pretty unremarkable day – clear and cool for spring in Vancouver.
Just past Boundary Road, I was heading east on Rumble Street in southwest Burnaby, crossing Joffre, when a car turned left across my path, slamming into me at what seemed like it must have been 40-50 km/hr. In my reading of the surgery notes from hospital, they estimated the car was going about 50km/hr from the force of the impact. Regardless, it was fast enough to throw me into the windshield of the car, and up over the roof of the vehicle, according to the police report. I landed on the pavement about 10-15 feet behind it. I remember the other vehicle coming to a stop diagonally, sort of pointing away from me.
The only thing I can recall from the impact is the driver exclaiming repeatedly that he never saw me – on an absolutely clear day with excellent visibility. And before anyone assumes anything, I was wearing a white helmet, and dressed in a very visible bright red cycling jersey. Apparently I never fully lost consciousness, but absolutely everything from that moment until days later in Royal Columbian Hospital is a blur. I know I was conscious at times, but I wouldn’t really say I was “awake” until several days after the crash.
Somehow, I managed to provide my wife’s cell number to a bystander, who called, and followed that up with a text message when she couldn’t reach my wife. In a strange turn of events, the bystander also provided contact info for the driver. Thinking he was a witness, my wife sent him a text asking what he saw, to which he responded that he was actually the driver who hit me. Given BC’s no-fault driver insurance, this hardly matters, as he’ll likely suffer not so much as a reprimand for his careless driving.
I spent three weeks in Royal Columbian Hospital, before being transferred for another five, to GF Strong, a rehab hospital that specializes in Spinal Cord and Traumatic Brain Injuries (more on that shortly). In total I was in hospital for eight weeks.
My wife visited me every day for the whole eight weeks, and the kids as much as their schedules would allow. What I’m about to describe in The Injuries section below gave them all a good scare, and in some ways, particularly the first days were probably as hard, if not worse, for them than they were for me. I wasn’t exactly cognizant of much going on.
The Injuries
Note: This section has obviously had significant contributions from my wife, since I have zero recollection of anything from surgery, ICU or the first week in hospital.
You’ll have to bear with me through this section. My injury list was serious and extensive. I’m also going to try to describe things below in roughly the order they happened.
Stop the Bleeding
When I arrived at Royal Columbian Emergency I had a lot of internal and external bleeding. The most obvious injuries were a massive gash just below my left elbow and additional gashes at my outer left knee and on my outer left thigh. I have scars from all of them, but the real souvenir is about five inches long, extending down my left forearm from my elbow. However, it was all the internal damage that would dominate everything that followed, for months after the crash.
Non-responsive
Once they finished stitching up my wounds, apparently I had become non-responsive. This was when they suspected I’d had one or more strokes, the most likely cause of which being that the force of the crash had damaged my right Carotid Artery. Neurology became involved at this point and, while not even my wife knew at the time, they must have done some imaging, as these pictures were referred to during an ophthalmology follow-up I had on August 2, 2024.
Catheter Embolism
Once they stitched up my external damage, they needed to do something called a catheter embolism. In spite of its scary sounding name, Google says it’s a “minimally invasive” procedure to stop bleeding.
Carotid Artery Stent
After the embolism, the neurologist’s recommendation was to put a stent in my right Carotid artery (which was apparently in much worse shape than my left). The reasoning was two-fold. Not only would it ensure enough blood and oxygen would get to my brain and make additional strokes less likely, but the chances of blood clots would be reduced. They were openly wondering whether my brain would get enough oxygen to prevent me suffering permanent damage. I guess it did, though my wife has probably always suspected my brain is a little oxygen-deficient. At one point in those first days they were planning to stent the other Carotid, but at the time, felt I wasn’t stable enough.
Bowels, Spleen and Diaphragm
Which came first, the bowels or the spleen? Actually, I’m only half kidding. I returned to general surgery with my bowels in my chest cavity and my spleen an unsalvageable mess. Yes, you read that right – in my chest cavity. The force of the accident had jammed my bowels up into a place they weren’t supposed to be, and my spleen was too badly damaged to be saved. The surgeons originally thought they may have to take out sections of my bowels, but apparently found them to be in one piece, more or less.
My diaphragm was also ruptured and needed repair. The surgeon was hoping it could be “coaxed” back down to where it belonged, but ultimately it required surgical intervention.
Multiple Fractured Ribs
I have no idea how many exactly, but I broke several ribs and, honestly, they ended up the least of my concerns. During my recuperation, I really didn’t sneeze or cough much and aside from some slight stiffness I barely noticed them. If only everything could have been that easy. I was, of course, on heavy pain meds in the hospital, so that may have had something to do with it.
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