It’s now six months since a spontaneous random dismount (crash) from my mountainbike left me with a badly broken shoulder. I remember lying on the ground next to my bike. I knew I had broken something ‘cos your arm just cannot go where mine had just been. I remember cursing, that I would be in plaster for six weeks, which is the usual amount of time it takes for a break to heal. Later when I arrived at hospital, they told me that I had dislocated it. Great, I thought, pop it back in, and away we go. But they went on to explain to me that it was very badly broken as well, and would never be the same again!…
I took me three months to get back on my bike for an extremely painful 200 metres ride up and down the street.
Those first few rides were agony, but I persevered, riding a singlespeed along the canal towpath.
Now six months on I’m back in training, and looking forward to entering some events (not so fast sonny boy!). My visits to see Mr Cool, my consultant often leave me feeling a little down, and last Monday’s visit was no exception. He told me that the joint mobility I have now is pretty much all I’m gonna get, which ain’t great. I wont be painting any ceilings, or going on a trapeze that’s for sure, and I’ll have to give up the javelin. There could be a case for manipulation under general anaesthetic, but the risk is that it might leave me worse off than I am now. He went on to say that in any case the whole thing (head of humerus might die) might start to degenerate. But that could take up to three years!
I was feeling a bit down by now, progress, seems so slow.
My lovely physio Ellie, who is also a mountainbiker with a Sanata Cruz Juliana, seemed to sense my despair, she assured me that things would get better, and was confident of being able to squeeze a few more painful degrees out of the offending shoulder.
She’s right. I’m just gonna get on with it! I’ve come a long way in six months, and I’ve got a long way to go. So be it.