Last Motorcycle Ride
Im trying to push all of my personal walls and boundaries by posting this and having someone other than my friends and family know the details of my accident (I feel as if my entire circle needs a break from hearing about this) I’ll try to not make this as long as the dictionary… I was in a severe motorcycle accident on September 7, 2020. I was riding my Kawasaki Ninja that I had just rebuilt on my own. I was so proud of her and how she purred (Delkevic exhaust) instead of sounding like an throttled-out crotch rocket. I’ve been riding and working on sports bikes for about 25 years and this was my passion and therapy. I was enjoying the most beautiful day ever to ride. I was getting ready maneuver a pretty gnarly curve; one that I had taken by car many times. As I was leaning my bike into the curve, I saw a truck in my lane. There was NO time to even blink. Just that fast-an F150 ran right into me. I remember opening my mouth to scream but do not remember the sound. I remember the sound of bones breaking and that is a sound all unto its own. I heard and felt metal on metal all around me while I was in the middle getting pushed INTO my bike; I smelled gasoline, exhaust and then I remember nothingness. I lost consciousness thankfully. I awoke to voices everywhere, sirens and everything suddenly feeling so busy. I felt sharp pains and either started screaming or was already screaming because this brought a sheriffs officer to my side. I asked him to hold my hand just so I could tell if he was real or if this was a weird nightmare. Sadly, he was very real. Ever notice the looks on people’s faces when they don’t want to directly answer you? Or don’t know how? I repeatedly asked him what had happened and all I kept hearing was “accident” or someone I couldn’t see saying “she can’t be moved or touched yet”. What? Why? I gripped that mans hand like it was my life force and thankfully he held on just as tight. I needed him. I’ve never been in the position of needing anyone like that but I felt if he were to let go of me I’d disappear. In a mind that that couldn’t comprehend logic and shock right then, this all made total sense to me. While being loaded into the ambulance, an EMT said “this is going to hurt and a lot and if you need to scream just let it….” they never got any further than that because scream did I ever. I felt IT for the first time. Not knowing what the “it” was but I felt it come through my body like one big tidal wave and even into my brain. Like a blinding headache. That’s when I heard transport let the local hospital know my situation before arriving…I was bleeding badly, bones were protruding out of my right leg and pieces of my bike and the parts were still jutting out from my legs…again I’m thinking what? Me No way? I’m an experienced rider and have been for 25 years. This wasn’t me. Your brain can not make logic out of thin air. I was seriously beginning to panic. My EMT then leaned in real close and told me to remember this conversation. To remember this specific time in my life as I was going to need to talk to someone when I got better. Someone who would be able to help me deal with what happened here today. She made me shake my head and promise. I don’t remember anything after that except for bits of scattered memories like wind, knowing that I was flying and feeling cold. I was in too bad of shape for the local hospital and they were life flighting me to the nearest city hospital. I didn’t wake again until being wheeled into surgery. I was finally told after I had an MRI and CT scan and numerous X-rays (I had to have been just completely out of it-no memories at all) that my entire right leg was shattered, ankle and toes broken, all ribs but one broken, I had a severe concussion, etc. I had been resuscitated twice and had lost a significant amount of blood. I have a full titanium leg now. Most days I’m a mess who grits her teeth while making myself walk because if I don’t, these mangled bones will heal wrong and need to be rebroken. So basically it’s been 8 months of hell. I still have three active fractures and am about to have a 5th surgery. There’s little left most days of the woman who was a sassy, sarcastic, energetic ball of quick witted sunshine. I am now in the grips of severe anxiety and ptsd. My identity used to be the go to girl PR agent for Monster Energy and Metal Mulisha who lived life to the fullest. Total adrenaline junkie. What the hell was I going to do now? Who am I now? Obviously speed and wind therapy are no longer an option and I am finally in therapy after almost 8 months of “we can’t see you until Covid is over”, or everyone being booked out 2-3 months and insurance referral nightmares. No one took me seriously about what I knew was wrong in my head and tidal waves of emotional baggage. But. I am here. I can get around finally with a boot/cast and crutches. I still have another year or so to go according to my ortho team. My story doesn’t stop here. I know that. Believing it is a whole different level of thinking and I am not there. At all. I’ve had friends and my boyfriend leave stating I’m “too much” and talk about my accident “too much”. Why can’t I “just move on”? I have been blamed for being absent, mood swings, not being “funny and fun Jen”. While this has been completely devastating to deal with and still is, I know deep inside that their absence isn’t a bad thing. In my soul I know that I don’t want anyone here who isn’t good for me; healing, caring, positive and loving. I am not to blame for the drastic change that happened to me after what I’ve been through. I can’t help that I’m a mess. All I can do is try to walk again, get healthy mentally and physically, and work on these emotions of mine that have been badly beaten down when I needed them to be understood and cared for. I’m still here. I’m still a mother to my amazing son. I’m still a daughter. I’m still friends with the craziest bunch of people who don’t let me get too far down before they all come over loudly banging on my door with food and board games. I’ve learned that’s what it’s all about. Accepting help even when you don’t know how because you’ve always been the leader and you’ve always been the first one there when everyone else needed it. Not knowing my future used to bother me months ago when this first happened. I actually don’t worry about it now. I’m happy to have today. I’m happy my kid and I got to do a project together for school. I shouldn’t be here by any means so even though my life isn’t what it was, it’s more than what I thought it would be. There’s always hope. xo J.
