Gravity Kills

Today I went cross country cycling.

I probably won't be going again for a while.

To cut a rather long and boring story short, I flew over the handlebars while going downhill in the pouring rain. A lot of things can be said about how I really shouldn't be allowed to cycle anywhere but on a flat dry ground with no one within a 100m radius, but we'll save that for another day.

So.

I was rather apprehensively going downhill when I saw a huge dip, and thought, oh crap, this can't be good.

Next thing I knew - sky, ground, sky, ground, sky, ground, ground, ground - this is gonna hurt really bad.

Gravity is an evil thing indeed.

On a sidenote, it's interesting that while my life was flashing before my eyes (and so was the sky and ground), the first thing that went through my mind was, If my parents found out they are so gonna kill me. 21 years of bringing me up and I repay them by breaking my neck in a forest.

Where was I? Oh yes.

And while I was sprawled out on the muddy ground, my bike decided it missed my presence and skidded and hit me.

Life is good.

So there I was, undecided whether being in a foetal position would involve less blinding pain, when it occurred to me that I was on the ground in the middle of a downhill track.

Great.

I somehow managed to drag both myself and the bike off the track, and thus assuring myself that yep, ABC (Airway, Breathing, Circulation) intact to a certain extent.

Once the pain had subsided slightly I decided that it would now be a good time to survey the damage.

Limbs. Intact. There's blood down one leg but it looks rather superficial. Grazes to the hand and face, nothing serious. Knee is swelling up quite a bit, but that's to be expected. Full range of movement in all joints. Check.

Now what.

The friends came out to help and we decided to go back to the forest centre. Which involved more cycling. In the rain.

And everyone I cycled passed gave me really horrified looks, which worried me slightly because as far as I was concerned I was pretty okay. I was CYCLING back, how bad could it have been. I think it must've been the bloodied leg.

It was bad enough that I had to cycle myself back for some form of treatment, but when we got back to the centre no one knew what to do with me. The staff showed me a first aid box and threw out its rather random contents and sifted through it.

Then he looked at me and said, "I don't know what all these things are for..."

Sigh.

So I said, "Trust me, I'm a medic" and proceeded to mend myself.

Apparently I looked pretty okay for someone who just did a spectacular endo on the fastest section of the trail.

So, not only did I fall and hurt myself (and my pride), I had to get myself back and then self-medicate.

And in true Schaudenfreude style, my friend told me that when I fell he almost whipped out his camera to take pictures of my misfortune, but managed to restrain himself only because I was on the floor moaning in pain.

Good friends like him are hard to come by these days.

And that's why there's no pictures.

Anyways, whilst I am still in considerable amounts of pain, I am alive, and have developed slight paranoia over the possibility of developing septic arthritis or a kidney contusion.

The swelling and pain have gone down slightly, and I haven't been peeing blood, but we'll see.

I'm guessing tomorrow will not be a good day to be me.