This is what being hit by a car is like

Warning: the following account of my recent incident with a car is long and may be upsetting for some people. I've written it in the hopes of getting people to think about the consequences of their actions. Please pass this onto your friends and family, please be safe on the roads.

I was riding home from work mid-afternoon on Friday the 15th of June.  It was rainy and cold so I had my fluro orange and wonderfully water-proof Ground Effect She Shell on. I was riding my lovely Linus duchess so I wasn’t zooming along. Just gracefully cruising home as I usually do. I got to the intersection of Collins and Brougham St where the intersection is currently blocked to cars going through to Simeon. However the workmen had left a space for pedestrians and cyclists to cross. I waited on the road on the right side of the car that was turning left (not wanting to get run over you understand) and when the lights went  green I checked to make sure that no one was running the red before heading off.

I do this check every time I’m stopped at a red since the February earthquakes; there seems to be an epidemic of red light running in Christchurch. I safely made it to the gap where the crossing is in the middle of the road and observed a red car that was pretty much stationary at the lights. Of course I thought it was safe to continue, I was on a green, the red car seemed to be stopping, the car beside it in the further lane was stopped and had been for a while so I pedalled on. And the woman in the red car put her foot down.

She hit me when I was right in the middle of her bumper and everything becomes a blur of images for me here. I remember seeing the sky and feeling the bonnet give as I landed on it. I remember feeling shocked that this was happening, disbelieving that someone could be so stupid. I remember the back of my head striking the road and feeling my helmet do its job (I'm pretty sure if I hadn't been wearing my helmet I'd be dead or a vegetable), and then the rest of me hit the road on my right side. Then I’m pretty sure I blacked out for a couple of seconds as everything was blurry and fuzzy, but as my senses came back the first thing I did was wiggle my toes. Thank God they were moving.

Then I realised I couldn’t breathe and there was a woman standing over me saying “Sorry” and “Are you ok” over and over. As I gasped for air the pain hit and I began to make the most horrible wounded animal sound. I didn’t want to make this noise, it wasn’t me making it, it was the pain. I managed to roll into the recovery position on my left side and when I stayed still the noise stopped.
I gasped to the woman, still not believing what had happened, “Did you run a red light?” and she started explaining that she did, but she thought that it was blocked off so no one could cross. She even said she didn’t check because she didn’t think it was necessary. This made me so angry that I started sobbing and I pointed out to her that children cross here all the time and if it had been a child she would have probably killed it. She is lucky she only hit me.

Owie from hitting the road.

Lots of people appeared and told me not to move, which wasn’t a problem because my world became pain if I so much as flinched. A really lovely lady brought me a pillow and covered me in a blanket. I lay there on the road, curled in the recovery position, feeling the cold rain falling on me, being so grateful for the my Ground Effect jacket that was stopping the water from soaking me, and my new thick long Chalkydigits jersey that was keeping me warm. I told everyone I was ok, that I was warm enough and listened as they called the ambulance. I stared at the bumper of the red car and noticed a dent in the middle of it. I thought of how upset my husband was going to be. Once the ambulance and police had been called I got one of the lovely women looking after me to call my husband. I could tell he was so shocked and I yelled out to him that I was ok, hoping to calm him down. Then I had to wait.

I lay on the road in the cold rain with trucks and cars whizzing past me, looking at the grey sky. That grey sky is what I see when I try and sleep at night. That and the shape of the red car suddenly moving forward and there’s nothing I can do to stop from being hit.

The ambulance arrived really quickly and stabilised my neck before putting me on the backboard. Oh the pain. I was now lying on all my really sore bits and trying not to blubber. They lifted me up and got me in the ambulance and just then my poor husband arrived. He looked so scared. And seeing me in the ambulance didn’t seem to make it any better. I tried to tell him it wasn’t serious, I hadn’t broken my back, that I was ok, but it didn’t make a difference.

Then the ambo’s had to cut my clothes off me to get the collar on. I cried when they cut into my ChalkyDigits jersey, I’d just bought it the night before and I was so happy with the way it had protected me from the cold road. Then the horrible collar was on and it was time to cut the rest of the jersey and my She Shell off me.  The ambo’s laughed at this to cheer me up. They were really wonderful.

Finally I was covered in electrodes and being fed orange flavoured panadol liquid. It did nothing for the pain. Then they gave me NOS. I sucked the canister dry and it did nothing for the pain. The ride to the hospital seemed to go on forever and then when we got there it felt like another eternity till they gave me more pain meds. Even that wasn’t getting rid of it, just winding the volume down. When I finally went for my x-rays it was pretty rough going for me and for the young trainee techs. Every little movement I made would be agony and when it was over I was relieved.

After the xrays I got more meds and finally the pain was bearable. I just couldn’t stop crying though, I was so very angry. Eventually the doctors came and told me I hold some damage to my pelvis, but that it looked minor and that I could go home. They got me to stand up and I almost passed out from the pain. I had to give a urine sample to make sure my kidneys weren’t damaged, but I couldn’t walk so I had to have crutches. It was agony using them, but my kidneys were fine and my lovely mum in-law arrived to take us home.

Nightly meds - the liquid is particularly traumatic

Now the final indignity was upon me as I had no clothes so I had to wear disgusting lost and found clothes home.  I ate pizza and ice cream and codeine when I got home, but I couldn’t sleep at all and ended up awake till 5 in the morning. I managed to sleep till 7 when the cat woke me. Sigh

Saturday things weren’t so bad. I could move about with only a walking stick and managed to sleep better that night, although I had to listen to a podcast of Through the Looking Glass to stop my brain seeing the grey sky and the red car. The next day, Sunday, everything went wrong. I woke up sore and when I moved I screamed. My back ribs on the right popped out of place and the pain for shocking.
We managed to get me dressed and back to ER we went. I stood in line for 10 minutes holding my ribs in place and finally got triaged as a high priority. Another set of painful xrays and there were no punctured lungs so I was sent home with horrible strong pain killers and instructions to see my GP on Wednesday.  The next few days were pretty rough. The pain was really bad a lot of the time and I couldn’t sit up or stand up without my husband helping me. I was completely helpless. I could only lie on my back.

My awesome GP turned all that around with a great routine of drugs. Now I say great because it has completely got my pain under control, but I hate it. I don’t like taking drugs at the best of times and now it feels like I’m taking great handfuls.

So almost two weeks on I’ve got one or two broken ribs, a bruised lung and a damaged pelvis. I’m pretty much stoned out of my mind all the time and can’t really move round much. I can sit now and can get myself up and down if I’m very careful. I’ve missed a week of work that ACC doesn’t cover so I’m a grand down just on wages. I’m lonely at home by myself, and I have no idea when I’ll be able to ride again. The woman who hit me is being charged with Careless Driving Causing Injury and the policeman I’m dealing with is really good.

So there you have it. That is what it is like to be hit by a car. Please try and avoid it and most of all try and avoid doing it. Maybe send a link to this onto your friends and ask them to avoid doing it too. Cars hurt a lot. Way more than crashing into a trees or gateposts or the ground. I am very very lucky to be alive, and pretty much intact, but I’d be fine if the woman had obeyed the road rules. Please please please don’t run red lights, Ever.  On your bike or in your car, and if you are in a car and see a bike run a red light, remember that your car is deadly if it hits a pedestrian or cyclist, just because someone else breaks the law doesn’t mean you can.  Please obey the road rules. It could happen to you.

Touring – Very Serious preparations

My training has been going well, and I discovered another not very sensible training tip while out riding in the Port Hills on Wednesday. Without a jacket or lights. The tip is: getting lost is a great way to have a longer ride than you were planning, and therefore pushing your boundaries harder. That is a good thing. What is not a good thing is if your reason for being lost is because you are inside a cloud and have zero visibility (no exaggeration, I couldn’t see more than 2m in front of me most of the time). Add to that a nasty cold wind and the afore mentioned lack of jacket and lights and you have a slightly freaky ride. Luckily I did have a base layer of wool on which saw me pretty right and I had plenty of food with me, also there wasn’t any traffic thank goodness. I was pretty disappointed when I finally popped out of the cloud and found myself heading down to Gebbies Pass. That meant an extra 35km on my ride and the weather was closing in. I stopped for a hot pie and a hot chocolate at the Blue Duck Cafe and then took off into what had become a nasty head wind. Finally I realised I was getting way too cold and rang my husband who came and picked me up from Tai Tapu with 70kms of riding under my belt for the day. Yay!!! Talk about an amateur mistake. Kiddies, always take a jacket into the hills!

Onto more exciting things, I have booked my train trip to Greymouth and my plane flight back from Queenstown. Waaaahoooo! I’m leaving next Thursday, so preparations have gone into overdrive. I went on a spending spree yesterday and acquired all the necessary things I didn’t already have. And here she is, Rocky Ell, fully kitted out and ready for the trip (disclaimer: bedroll in photo differs from actual thermarest that will be used, I haven’t picked it up yet).

From the photo you can see that I’ve kitted Rocky Ell out with a lovely new front mudguard, rear-view mirror (shudder), bike pump, and handlebar bag. I’ve also swapped out her worn grips for my plush race grips, fitted a myriad of lights and put the bottle cages off my roadie on her. And for added authenticity in this photo I’ve loaded all my clothes, my tent, sleeping bag, towel and various healing balms and pills and stuff onto her. The only thing that’s missing is food.


As you can see from the rear she is a sweet sight with reflective bits galore to grab the attention of any campervan driver.



A view of the cockpit shows my sweet bum-bag handle bar set up, newly installed speedo, double lights for penetrating the thick West Coast rain and of course my no- at-all lame rear vision mirror to keep me appraised of any rearward perils.


And finally the most important addition of all, my mascot. Now I need your help, beloved reader. I have no name for my mascot, it being a gift from my father in-law last night (I think he’s trying to tell me something about being a goat). So get those comments coming in with your brilliant suggestions. I’ll make a list out of the top 5 on Sunday evening and whack a poll up for your voting pleasure. Then on Wednesday night, on the eve of my epic (for me) journey, I’ll have a winner and an appropriate christening ceremony will take place. Thanks in advance for your help, oh intelligent and astute reader.

As well as update you on the name search, I thought I’d show you some of the gear I’m taking with me. The first instalment is:
Home away from home


Isn’t it a beauty? I have to thank my gorgeous and generous friend Sarah Smart for loaning me this veritable mansion.


You’ll notice the spacious interior with more than enough room for me and all my gear (not shown here). It has lovely indoor outdoor flow and is erectable (is that a word?) in no time at all.
Best of all it is light and easily packable when broken down into its component parts, as shown below. I look forward to spending many a comfortable (and dry, aye Sarah) night in this tent listening to the rain and, if I’m lucky, the kiwi.


So with only 6 days to go till I’m off I’ll be heading out at the weekend for some more big rides before resting up next week. Get your suggestions for a name for my mascot flooding in!

PS:The reason I've been so tardy posting recently is because I've been setting up my website to document my writing endeavours (incuding the result of this tour). Check it out at ahidingplace.com

A Public Service Announcement

Post crash helmet safety

So you’ve had a bit of a crash? It’s time to check out the old brain bucket for any incidental damage. It may be that you don’t think your head even touched the ground, especially if you’ve cleverly employed the “out-stretched limb” technique of face-hitting-the-ground (FHTG) prevention. Of course we all know there are dangers inherent in employing the out stretched limb, particularly arms, to prevent FHTG, however these dangers are usually rewarded with the very nice NBN (not broken neck), LOC (lack of concussion), TAIMS (teeth all in mouth still) and NBDW (no brain damage whatsoever). However just because you’ve avoided FHTG doesn’t mean your head hasn’t hit the ground during your balletic dismount. Check for tell-tale signs.

Scuffs, for example on the front near the visor.



Or to the rear. If either are visible then your head has hit the ground and if both are visible then your head has obviously rolled along the ground!



It is CRUCIAL that you check for further damage. Are there any dents in the exterior the helment?



If yes then your head has probably hit something both hard and pointy. Time to check for cracks, especially in the area of any dents. They may be obvious like so…..



Or more subtle like this one.



It maybe that you don’t find any cracks, but have both scuffs and dents, and if you also have some broken bones then you MUST THROW AWAY your helmet. If you do have cracks then you MUST THROW AWAY your helmet. It is important this is done safely.

First you’ll need some safety approved footwear. I recommend steel capped boots.



Since you are obviously accident prone (hence the broken helmet) I also recommend knee pads, a full face helmet and the all important ugly safety glasses. With these in place you are ready for the log splitter.

The most reliable technique to employ is to have your log splitter hit the helmet with the flat end, this will reduce the chance of nasty ricochets. Ensure you sight your target carefully.



DO NOT stare at other things in the vicinity.



Keep a nice stable stance with legs akimbo.



And destroy that helmet. Repeat as necessary.



You should end up with a safely destroyed and unusable pile of polystyrene and plastic and a fantastic feeling of satisfaction and responsibility.



Place the contents in the appropriate rubbish receptacle.



Congratulate yourself on a job well done.


Now go out and spend plenty of money on a replacement helmet. Remember all those scuffs, dents and cracks would have been on your head without you dearly departed helmet!