I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t even a little bit depressed.
This weekend was a lot of fun. Back to back trackdays with SBK775 up at RFR where I got in a lot of kickass riding with fast guys and good friends. Sunday ended up being some great racing…especially watching the first timers go out and battle each other. Watching Mike morph from a C-group-panty-waist into a full fledged A-group racer-boi was pretty awesome.
It’s weekends like that that I cherish and don’t forget…This weekend won’t be muddled up and lost in memory as so many of my weekends do given that I’m at the track so much. Toe even got a few shots of me that are now my favorite pics ever!
But Monday… Monday had awesomeness written all over it until I had to go and be the dumbass I sometimes regret being… Toe, Han, Kyle, Rob, and myself decided to go shred the gnar in downtown Sacramento on bicycles. I kinda led them around to a few places where Matt and I like to get jukie wit’ it… but since it was only about 6pm and not the usual midnight runs that Matt and I take, we kept getting kicked out of places… finally, we end up by the Pyramid Building where we haul ass down a steep hill and try and drift at the bottom.
Toe set a pretty impressive mark… so I tried to top it… and I did… with about a 25mph highside onto my scaphoid bone wearing only dirtbike gloves for “protection.”. *sigh*
I knew within a few minutes that it was broken. Not that I’ve really even broken very many bones…but I could tell that this injury was different than anything I’d felt in the past. We rode the 20-something blocks to go get dinner before going back to Han’s truck to load up and head back to my house. I had to be at the track for the backwards day at Thunderhill the following day, so I just manned up, wrapped my wrist, and drove to the track Tuesday morning.
It hurt. A lot.
I was completely bummed that I couldn’t ride. I’d been looking forward to the backwards day for MONTHS. Even if I couldn’t shoot it, I was going to pay to ride it that day; it’s THAT much fun. Instead, I watched and took pictures all day (which was a feat in of itself) while everyone else had a total blast. I was steadily growing more depressed.
Tuesday night, I went to the ER. I got there around 10pm and was finally seen around 3:30am. Yep, it’s broken. Scaphoid bone.
I didn’t really know anything about the scaphoid, so I researched it a bunch. Turns out, it’s one of the worst bones you can break in terms of recovery time. I’ve read of poeple in casts for as long as 1 year. Reason being is that the bone has a very poor blood supply…and bones require a good supply of blood in order to heal quickly.
The more I’ve learned about it, the more dissapointed, sad, and depressed I’ve become.
The pain hasn’t really subsided much…I’ve been having a hard time sleeping at night. This week, I’ve napped twice. For those that know me, they know that if I take a nap, something must not be right. I just keep thinking about how I won’t be able to ride for a long time…how simple tasks, like tying my kid’s shoes are virtually impossible…how when the twins come, I very well could still be in a cast…
Then this morning, it hit me. Like a ton a bricks…and I suddenly felt very foolish. I thought about Eric Arnold.