My commute home from work did not go as planned.

Crash scene looking south on I-880 northbound in Hayward from the median shoulder, motorcycle partially cropped bottom left lying on its side, the Lexus that hit me parked in the middle. Dense traffic crawling past.

Impact

The motorcycle’s fork meets the car’s rear tire, snapping the bars out of my hands with enough force to twist the frame. The front wheel locks up and my motorcycle becomes a catapult.

My airbag vest deploys an instant after I take flight. I have time to savour how it restricts my neck’s mobility as I return to earth. I take a hard landing and a pretty short slide. Not ideal1.

Secure scene

I move myself to the shoulder; it would really suck to get hit by two cars in a row. The bike’s already there so I sit on its far side, a makeshift bollard crammed full of lithium cells.

Assess injuries

I self-administer first aid2. ABC. A&Ox4. C-spine. No apparent mortal injuries, my gear worked. I slip out of my suit and notice my left arm isn’t right. Ugh, I’m going to miss my flight to Portland tomorrow.

Make contact

I fish a phone3 out of my tank bag and dictate the essentials to Tanya:

Wed, Aug 21 at 17:00
hit by car. I'm OK. I think my wrist is broken. Waiting for ambulance
Oh duck

Police

CHP was on scene immediately, likely the same cruiser camped out looking for HOV violators that I’d passed just a moment before. If you’re a local you know the spot. Surely they saw that Lexus crossing the double white?

“Do you know how fast you were going?”

No.

“65-70?”

Couldn’t say.

“70 mph” shows up later in the crash report as if I’d volunteered the information myself. Don’t talk to the police.

Medical

The medics on scene did their own assessment, were suitably impressed by my (relative) lack of injuries, and were very interested in my vest. They offered me my choice of destination, there being multiple Level I trauma centers in the area. Caught without having done any research, I chose “whatever’s on the way home”, which brought me to Eden Medical Center.

Notes from my H&P:

CHIEF COMPLAINT:

Scott C Perry presents as a Bravo Trauma Activation

Scott C Perry is a 39 year old male brought in by ambulance as a bravo Trauma Activation

39 year old male was involved in motorcycle accident. He was traveling at 60 mph4, wearing helmet and full gear, that on impact inflates as a body airbag. He was able to ambulate on scene. He arrives awake with an abrasion to the right elbow and deformity to the left wrist.

ASSESSMENT AND PLAN

39 year old male involved in motorcycle accident resulting in a left acute comminuted displaced fracture along the left distal radial metaphysis with dislocation.

  • Aspen cleared
  • Multimodal pain control
  • Close reduction and splinting in ER
  • Plan for definitive repair 8/22
  • Will admit

Turned out my wrist wasn’t broken, just, uh, “disassembled”. A shot of fentanyl in my IV (and some local anesthetic) numbed things up enough to attempt a “reduction” but my wrist fell back apart immediately without the radius backing it up. Oh well. Trauma sent scans to orthopædics, who expressed concern about bone death and wanted to operate the following day.

But I did learn a new word5!

com•mi•nut•ed |ˌkɑmən(j)udəd| adjective technical reduced to minute particles or fragments. • Medicine (of a fracture) producing multiple bone splinters. ORIGIN early 17th cent.: past participle of comminute, from Latin comminut- ‘broken into pieces,’ from the verb comminuere, from com- ‘together’ + minuere ‘lessen.’

That night and the following day were pretty rough, but I made it into the OR less than 24 hours after my crash. Post-op note:

PRE-PROCEDURE DIAGNOSIS:

Left radial shaft fracture - highly comminuted
Left distal radial ulnar joint dislocation

POST PROCEDURE DIAGNOSIS:

same

PROCEDURE(S) PERFORMED:

Left radial shaft fracture - highly comminuted: open reduction and internal fixation
Left distal radial ulnar joint dislocation: closed reduction

A one hour operation turned into two6, but it was all good news when I woke up. There was no damage to my joints’ surfaces, which should mean no injury-related arthritis down the line. I can expect to make a full recovery. In a year.

Discharged home that evening, I spent the next three days in bed with my arm elevated thinking of all the stuff that needed to be done. I called my insurance company. Told my boss I’d need to work remotely for a little while. Located my motorcycle. Gathered wisdom from friends with relevant experiences.

What a mess.

  1. For the non-motorcyclists out there, you want a long slide because it spreads your kinetic energy over time (and space). “Speed doesn’t kill, deceleration kills” may be technically correct, but public roads are a terrible place to take your chances. ↩

  2. Motorcycle crashes are why I got my wilderness first aid cert, though my intention was always to avoid being my own patient. ↩

  3. My work phone. The one in my pocket—my phone—had run out of battery during the ride. I also switched over Find My. Still need to replace that battery. ↩

  4. For the record, I did not hazard any guesses about my speed to anybody—I don’t look at my gauges when riding in murderous conditions, my speed was whatever I reckoned (accurately or not) as appropriate based on the traffic around me. ↩

  5. If you’re tempted to search the internet for this word, be advised that the results will include images that cannot be unseen. ↩

  6. It’s comforting to learn that estimates are the same in every field. ↩