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Glad you're back in the saddle. Those colors reminded me of how my thigh looked after tearing some things during a slick-concrete laydown. Only the ER doc took one look and prescribed vicodin. Never got that one filled. Afraid I might like it too much.

 
Glad you're back in the saddle. Those colors reminded me of how my thigh looked after tearing some things during a slick-concrete laydown. Only the ER doc took one look and prescribed vicodin. Never got that one filled. Afraid I might like it too much.
Luckily I wasn't prescribed anything addictive. At least, I didn't get addicted.
Had a good seven days of riding, some 1800 miles in total.

Click on image for larger view



The ankle gave me no trouble except when pulling my boot on and off, but I had to be very careful coming to rest, also parking so that I could push the bike off its side-stand without too much effort.

Ankle continues to improve. I am occasionally using a packet of frozen peas to treat it, seems to further reduce the swelling. There are still some movements that can make me yelp!

Have to say, I'm not used to having injuries that take weeks, if not months, to heal. As a kid, I could fall out of trees, crash my push-bike, lose fights with my brother. The blood would stop flowing within minutes, the bruising would disappear after a couple of days, scabs would be gone within a week or so.

Part of the joys of growing old, I suppose, but (as is often said), growing old is better than the alternative.

 
I severely sprained my ankle 15 years ago...took months to heal and years for the swelling to go away.

Volleyball is very dangerous.

 
I severely sprained my ankle 15 years ago...took months to heal and years for the swelling to go away. Girls Volleyball is very dangerous.
Fixed it for ya Wheatie.
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I disagree my western Minnesota friend. Girls volleyball is AWESOME!

I will pretend not to be offended by your belittling of my serious injury.
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Have to say, I'm not used to having injuries that take weeks, if not months, to heal. As a kid, I could fall out of trees, crash my push-bike, lose fights with my brother. The blood would stop flowing within minutes, the bruising would disappear after a couple of days, scabs would be gone within a week or so.
Part of the joys of growing old, I suppose, but (as is often said), growing old is better than the alternative.
Just last week on our vacation ride through West Virginia, I had an almost-drop moment that I'm still feeling today. We were two up, side cases, top case and tank bag full, at least half a tank of fuel, so she was top heavy by a fair bit. I was attempting to back into a curb at an angle to park and we started tipping to the right. I used every ounce of muscle I had in my right leg and arm to keep us from going over, but what saved it was Laura thinking fast and counter-leaning to the left! I figured I'd feel it in my leg after that, but that was fine. My right wrist however is still hurting from the stress I placed on it. Ligament or tendon or something got over-stressed and strained and I have no idea how long that will take to go away. That afternoon, I could hardly hold my helmet in my hand for the pain. Luckily, it seemed the pain was mostly from weight-bearing, so I could still work the throttle to get us through the rest of the trip. Wrist even hurts a little as I type this. Getting old sucks, but is definitely better than the alternative!

 
Riding is funny. And I am stupid. When I had my laydown and tore my thigh, I was riding in less than a week, albeit in severe pain when getting on and off the bike. Maneuvering was fine. I'd stop a block short of work and get off and back on at a gas station. My leg was so stiff and painful after being still for the commute, I had to do a practice dismount and limber up a block away for the first few days to avoid seizing up and falling over while dismounting at work (where people I knew might see it happen). More recently (pretty darn recently), I had an emergency appendectomy. When I came to from general anesthesia, still blissfully unaware that my first and only catheterization had occurred and been removed (removed, evidently, by tying it to a door and slamming it), though no one told me (imagine my surprise), the patient chart on the wall said "movement as tolerated". Since my goal was to set a land speed record for recovering from an appendectomy, I took this rather literally, and was doing toe and heel lifts at 2am (one hand on my IV rack), just hours after surgery. After careful consideration, I believe that may have been too soon. The next day, I struggled into my 5.11's and boots, put on a hat and sunglasses, and did my best to fake a normal walk, sneaking down to the hospital cafeteria in search of red bull (note- hospital administrators are either bastards or are geniunely concerned with a healthy diet... no red bull). I was walking like Ozzy barely shuffling along when I derped back onto the ward. The charge nurse looked at my dumb ass and quietly noted that they'd been looking for me. The godawful pain from overdoing it that first 24 hours sucked. I got back on a bike after 4 weeks, which was just 2 weeks shy of being cleared to do anything like that, before being cleared to go back to work (I had aleady been back to work starting a week after surgery). It was stupid, but I was fine, started with padding the bike around in the garage, and then to short rides. Mac- glad you were able to get back to business so soon. Great pic.

 
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Riding is funny. And I am stupid. When I had my laydown and tore my thigh, I was riding in less than a week, albeit in severe pain when getting on and off the bike. Maneuvering was fine. I'd stop a block short of work and get off and back on at a gas station. My leg was so stiff and painful after being still for the commute, I had to do a practice dismount and limber up a block away for the first few days to avoid seizing up and falling over while dismounting at work (where people I knew might see it happen). More recently (pretty darn recently), I had an emergency appendectomy. When I came to from general anesthesia, still blissfully unaware that my first and only catheterization had occurred and been removed (removed, evidently, by tying it to a door and slamming it), though no one told me (imagine my surprise), the patient chart on the wall said "movement as tolerated". Since my goal was to set a land speed record for recovering from an appendectomy, I took this rather literally, and was doing toe and heel lifts at 2am (one hand on my IV rack), just hours after surgery. In hindsight, that was too soon. The next day, I struggled into my 5.11's and boots, put on a hat and sunglasses, and did my best to fake a normal walk, sneaking down to the hospital cafeteria in search of red bull (note- hospital administrators are either bastards or are geniunely concerned with a healthy diet... no red bull). I was walking like Ozzy barely shuffling along when I derped back onto the ward. The charge nurse looked at my dumb ass and quietly noted that they'd been looking for me. The godawful pain from overdoing it that first 24 hours sucked. I got back on a bike after 4 weeks, which was just 2 weeks shy of being cleared to do anything like that, before being cleared to go back to work (I had aleady been back to work starting a week after surgery). It was stupid, but I was fine, started with padding the bike around in the garage, and then to short rides. Mac- glad you were able to get back to business so soon. Great pic.
Guess serious motorcyclists are the sort who can be a bit anxious to get going again. I'd (secretly) tried on my boot, sat on the bike, tried pusing it off its side-stand long before I should. Don't tell SWMBO, though. I'd suffer a lot more.

The pic above is actually my son's. He caught the light just right. This was opposite our hotel in Gairloch, looking out towards the Isle of Skye. Been there one or two times a year since 2004, it looks different every time. If you look at the horizon above the centre bike's mirror, you can just make out Skye.

Local saying: "If you can't see Skye, it's raining. If you can see Skye, it's going to rain". Love the place.

 
It's simple: Boys are stupid.

When I was 12, I had my appendix removed at 1201 Friday morning. Had spent all day doubled up on Thursday, and the doc about crapped when he got my white cell count. Stayed in the hospital until Saturday afternoon and with staples in my stomach was playing football on Monday. My doctor was super pissed when he found out. Luckily I was 12 and healing was easy.

Just like you guys I still do stupid stuff. Somehow it's bred into us. We think pain will go away on its own if we tough it out, and are slow to see doctors. We are bad patients because we don't listen like we should and do too much too soon. Will we ever learn? Probably not, but whatever...I can still stitch my own arm if I have to.

 
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It's simple: Boyd are stupid.
When I was 12, I had my appendix removed at 1201 Friday morning. Had spent all day doubled up on Thursday, and the doc about crapped when he got my white cell count. Stayed in the hospital until Saturday afternoon and with staples in my stomach was playing football on Monday. My doctor was super pissed when he found out. Luckily I was 12 and healing was easy.

Just like you guys I still do stupid stuff. Somehow it's bred into us. We think pain will go away on its own if we tough it out, and are slow to see doctors. We are bad patients because we don't listen like we should and do too much too soon. Will we ever learn? Probably not, but whatever...I can still stitch my own arm if I have to.
Broken bones, stitches, yada yada. Done them. The best was recently- I cracked one rib and separated 2 (totally un-bike related) on Friday. Hurt like hell to do normal things like breathe. I'll tough it out, always did before. Played 18 holes of golf on Sunday. Drs office 1st thing Monday. In retrospect even sneezing with damaged ribs is easy compared to golfing with damaged ribs. Take my word for it, don't do that....

 
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