One who is injured ought not to return the injury, for on no account can it be right to do an injustice; and it is not right to return an injury, or to do evil to any man, however much we have suffered from him.
Socrates
Life was different when I got home. I had a cast on from my balls to my toes. Getting around was difficult. I was in a wheelchair for a few weeks. Eventually, I graduated to a cane. That came with a problem, there was a twisted wire that was holding my knee together. That was banging against the cast when I moved. It was very painful. I was off any painkillers.
I still tried to do the things that needed doing. I remember one incident clear as glass. My carpet was dirty and needed vacuuming. Standing and doing that was impossible. So I lay on my side and crawled and cleaned. When I finished, I turned to look at the wonderful job I did. Everywhere I had crawled, I left a white trail where I dragged my cast and leg behind me. I just started to laugh.
Eventually, I would end up in an ER. I figured that if a doctor could cut a window into the cast where the wire was hitting, I would be able to survive a little longer. I still had weeks to go for the next round of surgery.
When I got into an examination room, I could overhear the Doctor in the background complaining that he was going to be late for a golf game. He was angry at that.
Sadly, the rest of this incident is true, with no embellishments.
He was in a real hurry, he was ramming the cast-cutting saw into the cast hard. I asked him to slow down. He made a comment like I was an idiot, mentioning the saw wouldn’t cut flesh. Just then, I felt the saw dig into my leg. Blood poured out all over. When he got close enough, I punched him in the face. I knocked him to the floor. I grabbed some bandages, put them on the wound, and left.
No police came after that. I figured we were even, I guess he did too.
I lived uphill from the Hospital, and 3 days a week I would hobble down to physio and do painful workouts. I was determined to walk again. Going down the hill was ok, coming back up, not so much.
I continued that for a long time. The time came for the surgery to remove the wires from my knee. That involved another four hours under the knife.
The time came for the cast to come off. My leg was skinny on one side. Walking was still tough. Driving was even tougher. I couldn’t bend my knee. The only way to drive the 5-speed truck is with my leg straddled across the passenger seat. I had to use my cane to work the gas pedal. I learned to put it into neutral quickly, then my clutch foot was available for braking. From the outside, you couldn’t tell anything was different. For passengers, I am sure it would have been nerve-racking. Don’t worry, I didn’t drive often, just when there was no other choice. I still walked up and down the hill to physio. I needed to exercise my leg.
It took two years before I could walk without the cane, another two or three to hide the limp. I still do not have full range of motion. Weather changes are painful.
I did go skydiving, but I did make sure that I hit the center of the landing spot, where there was a ten-foot diameter pit of pea gravel. I also climbed a mountain, but there was a lot of swearing.
After 5 years, I was able to ride my Harley again, I even took a long ride into the United States. I saw Rushmore, Deadwood, and Sturgis before I went home.
I will never run again, When I try I look like a three-legged chicken. The important part is that I never gave up.
Even after the next big accident, this time with a broken neck and broken neck, that is another story.
