So, I'm waking up on Saturday morning, a little hungover from the Full Moon party the night before. Scott's already gone, but bless his heart, he left me hot coffee in the carafe. He left before 8 a.m. for Cheeca Lodge to set up for their Earth Day celebration. After our late night, I hoped he wasn't feeling as bad as I was. But, I remembered he had been working most of the night and hadn't drunk as much as I had. Even so, I knew he was worn out…I was feeling for him.
Donna called and we commiserated with each other and blamed Pierre's chocolate martinis AGAIN. They hurt us every time but we keep drinking them because they are just so damned good. Between the two of us, we piece together all the events of the party the night before. "The fireworks were great." "Did I see the fireworks?...oh yeah! I remember, they were awesome!" Stuff like that.
I hang up and decide to go for a bike ride. It's a glorious day and I think it would make me feel better to get some fresh air and some exercise. Fully sun-screened, I put two bottles of water in a small cooler and place cooler, cell phone and house keys in my bike basket and off I go.
The bike path is finally open to the north so I decide to go that direction. The day is absolutely beautiful, a nice breeze blowing and very little traffic on the bike path. After a while I stop in the shade for a drink of water and check the time. I've been riding almost 30 minutes and I wanted to ride an hour, so it's almost time to turn around. I ride just a little further up the path, and then make a leisurely turn to head back the other way. As I turn, my front wheel goes off the path and hits some loose gravel. You know that feeling when you are falling and it seems like slow motion? It was like that. I knew the bike was going down, almost caught it, then went right down on my knee. In coral gravel.
I got up immediately, thinking, "Whew, that could have been bad, I'm glad I wasn't hurt." Then I look down at my knee. Then I pull the walnut sized piece of gravel out of my knee. It's kind of numb and doesn't start to bleed, so I tell myself it is fine and get back on the bike and start riding south. After a few seconds I look down and there is blood running into my shoe. I say, "F**k, f**k, f**k, f**k…" and on like that for a few more seconds, then think, "What am I going to do?" I'm still 30 minutes from home and I have a huge bleeding hole in my knee.
As I pass the Key Lime Products store at MM95, I decide there really is no other choice, so I pull my bike up to the door and go in. I walk up to the counter and ask the woman working there if I could trouble her for a paper towel and kind of gesture toward my leg. She looks down, gasps, then hands me several paper towels and offers the use of her bathroom. I thank her profusely and take her up on it. In the bathroom I take a good look. It is pretty bad. The skin is actually curled under inside the gash…it looks really weird. I wash it as best I can with soap and paper towels and sort of get the bleeding stopped.
When I walk out of the bathroom, the lady working there is waiting and offers me a band-aid (I can't believe I didn't get her name. She was so nice. I intend to go back and thank her and buy something! They have really cute stuff…if you are local, go buy something from them.) There were two woman sitting having coffee at the counter and one of them says how it must hurt. I say, "You know, it looks like it should, but it is actually numb." Then I say (just to gage their reaction really,) "I'm wondering if I need stitches." They all agree that I probably do. Damn.
There is really nothing to do but get back on the bike and ride home. I knew I could call Steve or Donna and they would come get me, but it didn't seem that bad. As I'm riding, the band-aid starts to come off. I have to keep reaching down and patting it to keep it stuck on. Other than the mantra of "F**k, f**k, f**k…," the ride is kind of a blur. I was so mad at myself and so not looking forward to the prospect of an emergency room visit.
I finally make it home and have a chance to really look at my knee. I try to tell myself that I just need to get it cleaned up and maybe it's not as bad as it looks. Then I realize there seems to be bits of gravel embedded in the raw skin. Then I pull the folded skin out of the cut and stop what I'm doing immediately, grab my purse and keys and head to the hospital.
It was my very first time as a patient in an emergency room. Luckily they were not busy and they took me in right away. The doctor came in and said, "We're going to numb it up, clean it up, then sew it up." And that's what he did. Once he numbed it with tiny needle pricks all around my knee, which did hurt a little, I watched him clean it out. Whatever he used to numb it was amazing. The wound was immediately numb. He pulled up the flap and used tweezers to pull quite a lot of gravel and coral pieces out, and I didn't feel a thing. Then he squirted liquid into it and washed it good, then started stitching. I had never watched anyone stitch me up before…it was kind of fascinating. (It's funny how the mind works. As I watched him sew my skin, I was thinking of movies I've seen where the hero stitches up his own wounds, and how I didn't think that was something I could ever do.)
The topic of bicycle accidents was readily discussed by everyone I encountered during my visit at the hospital. From the receptionist, two different nurses (including a really cute male nurse who bandaged me up!) to the doctor himself, I heard horror stories of bike accidents. The most common apparently is being hit by a car. It seems that happens a lot here in the Keys. Also, the doctor had some funny stories of people who were riding their bike because they were too drunk to drive. According to him, the law is cracking down on biking under the influence. Of course the doctor asked me if I wore a helmet and of course I said no, although I might be considering knee pads after this.
Seven stitches later, a bandage on my knee and a band-aid on my shoulder from the tetanus shot, I was headed to CVS with an antibiotic prescription. The doctor thought with the sheer amount of gravel and dust he found that both the tetanus shot and the antibiotics were necessary. Later, finally at home settled on the couch, I had time to reflect that my day had certainly not gone the way I had expected. But, my hangover was gone.
Donna called and we commiserated with each other and blamed Pierre's chocolate martinis AGAIN. They hurt us every time but we keep drinking them because they are just so damned good. Between the two of us, we piece together all the events of the party the night before. "The fireworks were great." "Did I see the fireworks?...oh yeah! I remember, they were awesome!" Stuff like that.
I hang up and decide to go for a bike ride. It's a glorious day and I think it would make me feel better to get some fresh air and some exercise. Fully sun-screened, I put two bottles of water in a small cooler and place cooler, cell phone and house keys in my bike basket and off I go.
The bike path is finally open to the north so I decide to go that direction. The day is absolutely beautiful, a nice breeze blowing and very little traffic on the bike path. After a while I stop in the shade for a drink of water and check the time. I've been riding almost 30 minutes and I wanted to ride an hour, so it's almost time to turn around. I ride just a little further up the path, and then make a leisurely turn to head back the other way. As I turn, my front wheel goes off the path and hits some loose gravel. You know that feeling when you are falling and it seems like slow motion? It was like that. I knew the bike was going down, almost caught it, then went right down on my knee. In coral gravel.
I got up immediately, thinking, "Whew, that could have been bad, I'm glad I wasn't hurt." Then I look down at my knee. Then I pull the walnut sized piece of gravel out of my knee. It's kind of numb and doesn't start to bleed, so I tell myself it is fine and get back on the bike and start riding south. After a few seconds I look down and there is blood running into my shoe. I say, "F**k, f**k, f**k, f**k…" and on like that for a few more seconds, then think, "What am I going to do?" I'm still 30 minutes from home and I have a huge bleeding hole in my knee.
As I pass the Key Lime Products store at MM95, I decide there really is no other choice, so I pull my bike up to the door and go in. I walk up to the counter and ask the woman working there if I could trouble her for a paper towel and kind of gesture toward my leg. She looks down, gasps, then hands me several paper towels and offers the use of her bathroom. I thank her profusely and take her up on it. In the bathroom I take a good look. It is pretty bad. The skin is actually curled under inside the gash…it looks really weird. I wash it as best I can with soap and paper towels and sort of get the bleeding stopped.
When I walk out of the bathroom, the lady working there is waiting and offers me a band-aid (I can't believe I didn't get her name. She was so nice. I intend to go back and thank her and buy something! They have really cute stuff…if you are local, go buy something from them.) There were two woman sitting having coffee at the counter and one of them says how it must hurt. I say, "You know, it looks like it should, but it is actually numb." Then I say (just to gage their reaction really,) "I'm wondering if I need stitches." They all agree that I probably do. Damn.
There is really nothing to do but get back on the bike and ride home. I knew I could call Steve or Donna and they would come get me, but it didn't seem that bad. As I'm riding, the band-aid starts to come off. I have to keep reaching down and patting it to keep it stuck on. Other than the mantra of "F**k, f**k, f**k…," the ride is kind of a blur. I was so mad at myself and so not looking forward to the prospect of an emergency room visit.
I finally make it home and have a chance to really look at my knee. I try to tell myself that I just need to get it cleaned up and maybe it's not as bad as it looks. Then I realize there seems to be bits of gravel embedded in the raw skin. Then I pull the folded skin out of the cut and stop what I'm doing immediately, grab my purse and keys and head to the hospital.
It was my very first time as a patient in an emergency room. Luckily they were not busy and they took me in right away. The doctor came in and said, "We're going to numb it up, clean it up, then sew it up." And that's what he did. Once he numbed it with tiny needle pricks all around my knee, which did hurt a little, I watched him clean it out. Whatever he used to numb it was amazing. The wound was immediately numb. He pulled up the flap and used tweezers to pull quite a lot of gravel and coral pieces out, and I didn't feel a thing. Then he squirted liquid into it and washed it good, then started stitching. I had never watched anyone stitch me up before…it was kind of fascinating. (It's funny how the mind works. As I watched him sew my skin, I was thinking of movies I've seen where the hero stitches up his own wounds, and how I didn't think that was something I could ever do.)
The topic of bicycle accidents was readily discussed by everyone I encountered during my visit at the hospital. From the receptionist, two different nurses (including a really cute male nurse who bandaged me up!) to the doctor himself, I heard horror stories of bike accidents. The most common apparently is being hit by a car. It seems that happens a lot here in the Keys. Also, the doctor had some funny stories of people who were riding their bike because they were too drunk to drive. According to him, the law is cracking down on biking under the influence. Of course the doctor asked me if I wore a helmet and of course I said no, although I might be considering knee pads after this.
Seven stitches later, a bandage on my knee and a band-aid on my shoulder from the tetanus shot, I was headed to CVS with an antibiotic prescription. The doctor thought with the sheer amount of gravel and dust he found that both the tetanus shot and the antibiotics were necessary. Later, finally at home settled on the couch, I had time to reflect that my day had certainly not gone the way I had expected. But, my hangover was gone.
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