Friday, September 25, 2009

Local Bike Shop... lucky they survived!

Typically, I love my Local Bike Shop. They are fun, they save your bike, and they can be founts of knowledge.

And sometimes they can be pretentious know-it-alls! As I stopped to pay my repair bill after the completion of repairs from my Big Crash, a smug skinny guy proceeded to lecture me on bike technique, even inviting me to his clinic! He smoothly informed me I was doing things wrong and came about a breath away from implying that I crashed due to sheer stupidity. Naturally, he would have been carried over that set of train tracks on the backs of angels singing hymns to his goodness.

Here's the real lesson for us. Did I use the best technique for going ovr the tracks? Of course not... I didn't see them in time to properly react. It's called "going too fast for the conditions", not "bad brake technique". When one's front tire is skidding out, you should not apply the front brake, but rather, try to float until you are on firm ground again.

you should also realize that everyone can crash, and everyone does at one time or another. Riding can be dangerous, and no one is so perfect that they avoid crashes.

Not even you, Mr. "I've spent hundreds of hours training to become certified". Let's just say you ticked me off!

Monday, September 21, 2009

Creepy fortune cookies!

Well it has been fun. In addition to the broken hand, I got the flu, then the tests came back with a bonus infection. (And I'm dehydrated.) So I get to take drugs and drink unblievable quantities of water.

M started his day with a stiff neck and a temp. Back to the doctor. Turns out he's develped a horrible cold. We decided on Chinese food for the soup. (Literally, we got soup and fortune cookies. They probably think we are nuts.)

My fortune cookie said "disease". His said "to catch a cold".

Guess they don't play...

Monday, September 14, 2009


1) Take a bunch of frozen peeled bananas. Put in food processor. Process. If needed, add a little water or milk. Soon, it starts looking just like soft serve. Voila! Banana "ice cream". Very good for sick priest on an edited version of the BRAT diet... no rice made at the moment, so it's more like the BAT and chicken soup diet. We don't keep normal rice on hand anyway... all ours is red rice, wild rice, forbidden rice, arborio, sushi rice... M had to make a special trip to get me plain saltines and ginger ale.

2) My cats have gotten weirdly aggressive towards my cast. They are taking and attacking the pillow I use to prop it at night. And today, Origami happily sits in my lap. But if The Cast gets in-between me and him, he'll swat at the cast and taste my fingers as if they are little aliens. Snowbeast also attacks the pillow, but spent most of his day lying in the hamper being very pleased with himself.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Tired and blah

I'm waiting for when the physical part catches up with the mental part. Mentally, I'm thinking, "rah-rah, beautiful day, let's get some fresh air and go outside and play! Just because I can't bike doesn't mean I should remain home like a slug!"

Meanwhile, the physical part catches a bug, gets all phlegmy, spikes a temp on alternate days, and says, "Right on, evildoer. We are sitting on the couch feeling crummy, sick, and miserable. Just try that 'active stuff' on me, and I will make you regret it."

I am not accustomed to this. Bleargh!!

Friday, September 11, 2009


I love sweater weather, and the warm cozy feeling of cashmere. But what I love most right now is realizing that my cast is too big to fit through most sleeves. HOWEVER, I have always hated having things tight around my wrists. My shirts are French-cuffed, and most of my sweaters either bell or 3/4 sleeves.

Does this fall into the category of "everything happens for a reason"? "I hate having things tight on my wrists!"... "oooooo, look, I can wear a sweater with a cast!"

Thursday, September 10, 2009


It is probably safe to say it was my toughest day so far. I was in quite a lot of pain, and so tired. This was a rough morning as I simultaneously wanted scrambled eggs and toast while I also burst into tears of exhaustion right at the table. And I was hurting so much. Shortly after breakfast, I wrote the ungrateful post.

Since then, work kicked me out early so I can "go rest" since they thought I looked "drawn", the doctor gave me a more comfortable cast so my injured muscles would be immobilized and could rest, a surprise bee-themed care package AND the last season of Battlestar Galatica arrived in the mail, and M decides to bring home sushi.

Somewhere in there is either the grace or humor of God...

Tired out and ungrateful!

I had a lovely conversation with a patient yesterday. She is recovering from an illness that has threatened her ability to live independently. And she said, "I always used to be grateful... and I am grateful... just not now!" I held up my splinted hand, and said, "Let me tell you, I am so not feeling grateful today, either!" She laughed then, kicked the Nurse Practicioner out of the room, and we had a prayer for God to grant us the people around to carry us through these times.

Let me tell you, I'm so not grateful now. I've been having a lot of pain and after describing my issues to the spcialist, he moved my follow up, "let's see if you are healing so you don't need surgery" appointment up since they don't like what they are hearing. I do not feel good right now and I do not like this. I have work to do and I actually like my jobs despite the attempts of some folks to convince e that I shouldn't like them, and I want to tell these bones to stop playing, stop hurting, and heal as fast as the bruises.

And after a week of getting by on my own I guess I felt that when M returned, all that would be so easy. M would cook, clean, scrub the tub, wash the cats, fold my clothes, and basically make things right.

I was not counting on M returning from research totally exhausted from a week of 24 hour work, stuffed so full of playa dust that he was still sneezing it out last night, and jet-lagged out of his skull. He's like me after Police Week, and who else in the world has the right to work so hard but me? Hello! (ummmmmmm.... perhaps there's a message to me here...) So we became a house of two sickies when I thought he'd descend off the plane ala Mary Poppins.

On one hand, that is a testament to my perception of his abilities in regular life.

On the other, it sure shows that real life invades my happy dreamworld at times!

Sunday, September 6, 2009

One handed blogging...

The Vagabond will try to blog one-handed. She figures it might be interesting (to her, at least), to blog the little bits progress made as she recuperates.

The basic story: At mile 50 of a century, the Vagabond came across some train tracks. She was going over 22 mph, and did not see the tracks in time to respond. The tracks won that skirmish, and the Vagabond crashed, spectacularly. She went down first on the right side, getting her hand tangled up in the brake. She hit the ground with enough force to bounce up and over "like a pancake", to skid to a stop on the left. Very thankfully, her helmet absorbed the brunt of the head impact and her long sleeves and pants took the road. She has very liitle road rash, but did break an important bone in her right hand, rendering this rightie's right hand useless for at least a month.

The bike also suffered, and is now finally at the bike doctor getting its wheels trued, its brakes repaired, and its chain and cogs cleaned of grit. The Vagabond figures she is done for this season, and vows to dedicate herself to lots of hiking tis fall to compensate. Unless the doc clears her to ride a tandem... right, M?

Naturally, being a priest, the Vagabond finds it interesting to consider that all summer she had a foreboding feeling that something bad was going to happen. And she had this recurring dream of being on her bike with a broken hand.

Pshaw. No one dreams that literally, right? The Vagabond is aware, however, that her previous ability to sense what she can only call "disruptions in the force" has been uncannily accurate when it comes to hospital pagers and police calls. With M preparing for a research trip, she figured she'd be sensible. She insured M in every way she could to be sure she'd be ready for the worst and that nothing could go wrong, even finding emergency contact info for an off-the-grid event.

M came through with flying colors, healthy, happy, successful in research. The Vagabond came home from a bike trip... with a broken hand. The Vagabond is going to pay more attention to very detailed recurring dreams in the future. In the meantime, she is going to have some serious talks with her Boss In The Sky concerning whether surgery is really His plan for the life of her hand and if he might like to perform an instant miracle or at least do something about the swelling, pain, and slow healing of road rash. She suspects some life lessons on patience might be in store, instead...