In an Instant

Like this post, things just come unexpectedly.

When I moved to San Jose, CA back in 2007 I was an avid blogger. Focusing mostly on topics of art, innovation, faith and occasionally the sport of triathlon. Over several years we created a tight community of readers/followers and I really enjoyed the avenue for self expression and valued deeply those who cared enough to engage. However, in time, as life began to press from many different angles and with a shifting center of purpose, I decided those writing days were over and I would eventually walk away from DoxA, my blog of seven years (it still lives but only as a content placeholder and can be found HERE).

One consistent topic on my old blog was my love for triathlon, a sport I’ve been doing since 2001. Occasionally I would post training observations, or weekly training plans but mostly race reports; lengthy, blow by blow descriptions of what happened prior to and during a particular race. Anyone who read those reports were subject to receiving a medal themselves for proving they too embodied true endurance. Mostly however, these reports were intended for my own memory of the experience and also for those who later would want to race those venues and have some knowledge prior to a first crack at the course and conditions. When I stopped DoxA, this site, IronmanFaith was conceived.

IronmanFaith began at the end of 2012 just after competing in the Ironman World Championships (Kona, Hawaii). It’s focus has been singular, content myopic and purpose informative. But this just didn’t seem important to me to keep me at the keyboard regularly so, in time… my time, went elsewhere.

“Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.”

I’ve been on vacation… Raced two weeks ago on the Big Island of Hawaii… Got 4th place in my division where I struggled with the heat and lack of run training. Looking ahead I’ve Vineman 70.3 next month so I’ve been closing out my vacation, this last week at home, with lots of swim, bike and run. It’s rare but treasured when I can get a week like this primarily because it takes so much time to get the needed miles on the bike to make a difference. Which is why Monday I gutted out the first triple digit weather day here with a 75 mile ride and then the planned Wednesday a 95 miler and today’s 120 mile ride.

Wednesday morning I left the house with the plan of riding south but a mile out remembered I had forgotten something back at the house so I returned only to determine going north would be more enjoyable since it was a little overcast and my long ride on Saturday was also planned for the south. So, I did a recalculation of distance and time in my head rerouted a familiar course to Redwood City and back. About 30 miles into the ride somewhere in Portola Valley it started to drizzle a bit. Then by the time I had gotten up Old LaHonda to Skyline it had turned to a light rain. Since we have had very little rain this year and because what goes up does come down I knew I’d need to be extra cautious on the decent on Hwy 84 into Woodside. At this point the rain was steady and the roads soaked. I spent the out and back to Hwy 92 gaging the wind and staying aero. Taking the inner route home along Stanford University on Junipero Serra/Foothill I had a nice tailwind and even though it was raining the temperature was quite nice although extremely humid.

Now 84 miles into my ride, I come to the place where I turn in and get pretty much a straight shot home. But after I turn on McClelland at Cupertino Bikes, where I purchased the bike I was riding, I am playing the numbers in my head just how much more time and distance is left before I make myself a protein shake and chicken sandwich for recovery.

Subconsciously, “brake going into turn… it’s wet… slow” Consciously, “I’ll use the frozen greek yogurt I bought yesterday…”

Simultaneously, there is a sound of a quick scrape, the clink of metal bouncing on the road, the sight of my sunglasses flying off my face and going over my head and the feel of deep impact at my right hip, then helmet hitting the ground… I slide to a stop. I’m on the inside corner of a steep, 180 degree, hairpin turn. What just happened?

I look up. My bike is six feet uphill from where I lie. Glasses and CO2 cartridge 6 feet downhill… I start to get up. I’m nauseous. Cars are stopping. A large, white van is just uphill and could have easily run over me on this blind corner… the driver, a woman is walking toward me. “Are you okay? Do you need an ambulance?” I shake my head no. “I’m alright.” But I knew something was not right. Another lady walks over and asks if I need her to call 911. Again, I decline. Now just standing there, these good samaritans are waiting for me to tell them what to do… but I don’t know what to do. For some reason I can’t put weight on my right leg although I can move it in all directions. The lady with the van offers to take me to the hospital. I tell her I’ll be fine maybe if she could just take me back to Cupertino Bikes. I call my friend Scott who lives only a few minutes away but he doesn’t answer… once at the bike shop I realize I can’t even get out of the van to walk into the store… She looks at me with a “Whadya want me to do?” look.

I impose… “Seriously, you don’t mind taking me to the hospital?” (Did I just say that? REALLY? One, I never ask for help… Two, to go to the hospital?!) “I don’t mind she says… El Camino is only 15 minutes away.” I ask, “Could you take me to Kaiser?” One thing I didn’t want was an ambulance; then I would have been taken to the trauma center at Valley Medical. “Sure.”

At this point, I begin to stiffen and realize I’ve been completely rain soaked and no longer keeping my core temperature up with an elevated heart rate. I’m chilled and begin to shake. She gives me a towel, I wrap it around my back. She turns up the heat full blast… “Who is this woman?” I think… God, you sent me an angel! I ask her name, she tells me, I repeat it a couple times in my head to not forget, I tell her mine… We drive to Kaiser on Lawrence and Homestead… she pulls up to the ER and goes in to get a nurse. I struggle to get out of the van… a man walking by takes my shoulder and puts me in a wheel chair and walks me into the ER.

AIR CONDITIONING!!! I violently start to shake. I’m freezing. My angel goes and retrieves the towel… a couple minutes later a nurse brings a heated blanket… I wait in line for my turn to be checked in. After about 10 minutes they push me to the front of the line to an attendant who asks questions… my angel actually answers for me… and in an instant I’m whisked off to a room.

Here, I’m surrounded by nurses. The intent, get me out of my wet cloths and clean my wounds. An attending doctor, Dr. Yoon, talks about my previous medical history and addresses my physical condition as beneficial for getting through this and then explains all the immediate concerns and sends me off to radiology. The X-Rays are painful… the technicians curious and not masking their concern… I told them, It’s not good to point at the screen and make a face when the patient is watching. They smile, I’m wheeled back to the ER. Another nurse stops in to tell me an anesthesiologist is on their way to give me a pain block… but before that happens Dr. Yoon comes back in the room… “I’ve got some news for you.” He pauses. “It’s not good.” Longer pause. “I’m sorry to tell you… you broke your hip.”

I tried earlier to prepare myself for news, which would be difficult to receive… I wasn’t ready for this. Instantly, the thoughts of hip replacements, aging quickly, walking with a limp or cane, were some of the better ones. The thoughts of never running again, social rides, gaining weight, having to go on a diet made me shiver. Tears welled in my eyes, my voice cracked, “Well, this is a game changer.” Dr. Yoon looked at me compassionately and patted my hand. “We’ll do our best to get you back.”

At this point different hospital personnel started to arrive, first someone from admissions, then finance, I got a visit from someone who wanted to talk through my emotional and mental state… the next person to walk in I expected was the anesthesiologist to give the nerve block but introduced himself as Dr. Le (Dr. Tung Le) who will be my orthopedic surgeon and that he just studied my medical history and X-rays and, as he said, cleared an operating room for an emergency procedure. His reason, my health, the potential for future bone damage (or avascular necrosis) and need for hip replacements and the sooner done the better outlook for successful reconstruction. So, with that I was admitted on what was referred to as a “Fast Track” (even had a blue wristband to prove it).

From this point things become a blur. I was wheeled in to pre-op, where the anesthesiologist leaned in and said, “I’m a cyclist… so for me, this is personal. We’re gonna take really good care of you.” Soon there was a warm comfort, I kissed my wife goodbye and as they wheeled me off to another room I may have been awake for ten seconds. The next thing I remember was Joy encouraging me to wake up. She informed me Dr. Le felt the surgery went as well as he could have hoped for and that he was hopeful that the set was nice and clean. I then told Joy to go home and rest, it had been a long day for her. I was then taken to my room on the fourth floor. As the nurses rolled me into the room they said, “Welcome to the penthouse.” It was a huge corner room at the end of the hall. “You’ll rest well in here. It’s the quietest room we have and you won’t be bothered by another patient.” Wow! that was nice… “Anything else you need?” The only thought that went through my mind in that instant… “Food?” Coming right up! and within 10 minutes I had a full meatloaf dinner sitting in front of me. I gave the nurse a look. “You’ve been cleared for solid foods.” I wasn’t going to argue. I ate everything I was so hungry. Only an hour out of surgery and I’m eating meat and potatoes… go figure.

I was in and out of sleep that night but in the morning the pain started to set in. “What are you giving me?” I asked the nurse handing me a little cup with a tiny pill. “Oxycodone.”

“How much?”

“5 milligrams… that’s not a lot.”

Joy arrived with a real cup of coffee and clothes. I was told I’d be discharged by noon. Jon Talbert and Betsey Morales stopped by. Jon jumped in bed with me and took a selfie of us… I knew where that would be going later in the day and told my wife, I needed to start making some phone calls to certain folks before they see it on Facebook.

A physical therapist came in showed me how to use crutches and put me through an obstacle course before clearing me for departure. He gave me a green light. I changed clothes. When I walked out of the bathroom Bob Keyarts from WestGate walked in the room. Bob is a friend who over many years has worked the Tour of California, Georgia, Utah and the USPro Cycling Championship as well as multiple Ironman and 70.3 races as a motorcycle referee. He helped me into the car… Thanks Bob!

Now home… it’s quiet. Now, it’s a couple days later. Now, the reality of what will be the new normal for some time is sinking in. Right now I had planned to be out on a long 120 mile bike ride. I haven’t moved 120 feet. I’m getting good and using crutches around corners and through tight spots but it’s still a pain to negotiate the toilet seat. Joy has surrounded me with a bounty of drinks, food, entertainment options but the pain meds make me incredibly sleepy. I can lift my right leg and move it in all directions. I just can put any weight on it for two months. I’ve been doing a lot of reading for those (especially athletes) who have gone down this road before. Just like anything on the internet… it’s hard to know what’s true and what will be true for you. While my theology doesn’t agree with God having done this for a reason, I do believe, in time, I will be better because of it. Funny, watching commercials for fitbit or Nike or Gatorade motivate me in a whole new way now, while at the same time, make me a little sad. I refuse to sulk but I am pissed. I’ve cancelled all my remaining races and reservations for the rest of the year… I think I’ll volunteer instead. I’d like to take a shower. I’d also like to clean my bike (for those of you who are wondering… it’s just fine. Not a scratch anywhere I could see.)

So, there you have it… I’m competing now in a whole different type of race. It’s one which has only one competitor, me. The good news… I know me and the bad news… I know me too. So, I’ll still need your prayers, support and encouragement. Thank you already for the outpouring of support and prayer I’ve seen just on Facebook alone. But this is just the beginning. So, like an Ironman race itself… it’s all about the pace.

Oh, and one last thing… my angel (found via google). I’ve left a message for her. Her name is Nathalie Mosbach and she operates a dog hiking service called “The Dog Hikers” I can only imagine by the kind and selfless care given to me on Wednesday that if you need anyone to look after and care for your dog, I couldn’t think of anyone else you would want.

Thank you Nathalie!