Double Update from the Weeks of July 31st and August 7th
Today, August 10th, I am 3.5 weeks out of my wheelchair. Yesterday, I paid the medical bill for my emergency room visit. Thanks to my health insurance, I paid about 1% of the padded charges. The bill could have thrown me into fierce personal debt if I had not had health insurance. The generous GoFundMe campaign (which raised about $17,000) would have paid for less than half the cost of a CT scan (sans insurance). The funds from the GoFundMe have allowed me to take time away from working and focus on my recovery. That itself is a vast and priceless blessing.
This newsletter will now shift to provide updates biweekly. I am well on the way to a new and better normal. As I return to my bike, I want to acknowledge that my healing has been going better than expected. My hunch is that it is because I have been surrounded by so much love. One of my earliest get-well cards included the statement: Healing Happens in Community. I see the truth of this card applied in practice. There is no doubt that feeling loved is good for your mental health. I now see that it is also impressively powerful for your physical health as well.
I have started to see my healing process in separate phases. Phase 1: the rough patch while in the hospital. Phase 2: the days of my life in a wheelchair. Now, I am at Phase 3: walking on my own. At each of these steps, I have had so much support. Through this journey, I have been blessed with real human gems all along the way. Some of my friends began as acquaintances. Over the course of this calamity, these friends I now consider family. Photographs of a few select human heroes are included here.
Phase 1: My recovery started on a sweet note. While I was still in the hospital, my friend Mayuresh recorded an impressive series of good wishes from the Midweek Rollers in video format. I met Mayuresh at a CouchSurfing Lake Crash last year. Since then, we have gone on countless adventures together. I credit his friendship and support for bringing me to the Atlanta cycling community. Initially, I thought Mayuresh was a sort of AI computer engineer genius. Now I know he is more skilled than any engineer I have ever known. He can fix tech issues, install ramps, cook, drive (OK), and be dearly human.
Phase 2: The wheelchair days. A few days after I returned home from the hospital, my friend Benjamin helped me prepare for a little house party. The party was a loving way to return home after so much trauma. I developed a wall of cards from the party and well-wishers to cheer me on my recovery. Though we only met earlier this year, Benjamin has shown me heartwarming kindness and caring. He consistently showed up weekly to help me around the house or take me on adventures.
Phase 3: Getting out of the house under my own power. Lis was the first to visit me in the hospital. She was also the first to give me a reason to hoot and holler outside of the home. Last week, Lis invited me to share in the joy of queer lube wrestling. I usually do not like being a spectator. However, watching able-bodied friends fight for a good cause brought back my whistle. The whistle is a thing. See my crew trying to whistle in my MWR video. Lis found space in her life and heart to care for me through her own life challenges. I cannot even describe the depth of my love and appreciation for her existence.
Yesterday, I went to hang out with my bike family on MWR. My limp is minimal, and the damage on my wrist is difficult to perceive. I look cycle ready to the untrained eye. A few people even asked why I was not back on my bike. Little do they know, I am getting ready. My physical therapy involves a bit of upright bicycle practice. In the meanwhile, I am thankful for the saintly MWRoller who pulled me on his reinforced trailer for a joy ride yesterday.
Little did I know that I would be seeing Mayuresh, Lis, and Benjamin in a whole new light. Just one month before my temporary leave of (cycling) absence, Captain Clint invited us on his sailboat. We had the lucky luxury of choosing to bike or boat. As I reflect on the past few months, I realize that while I lost a bit of cycling time, I gained depth in my heart and friends for a lifetime.
