What happened when I didn't keep the rubber side down (Warning: yucky descriptions of injuries)

I wasn't so sure about posting this at first - I didn't want to freak people out who hadn't had a bike crash before, and also wasn't so sure that everyone would want to hear the alternately gory and boring details of the follow on from my bike crash.

Then Maja asked if I would perhaps do a post on it, and I thought, well if she is interested maybe others are too - maybe it will actually be strangely reassuring to know what it might feel like when that dreaded event happens. That one that we hope will never happen to us, but as several-times-a-week cyclists and especially as racers (or potential racers) probably will . I know that the past two and a bit days have already taught me some useful but difficult stuff in terms of pain and injury management, both physical and psychological.

Of course, all crashes are different in many ways, but it seems there are some common themes, so here's a description of my experience (sans photos - if you want to see pictures of the wounds in all their technicolour glory, just ask me!).

I have to say, I didn't expect to come down in the context that I did for my first crash - I don't know why, I guess I imagined it would happen perhaps skidding on some gravel or bumping into someone's tyre during training or a race, or cornering fast. Maybe even a collision with a car (gulp!). It happened, though, during a drill where we placed our hand on a partner's shoulder and practiced leaning into them. As I leant against Simon's shoulder it seems that I probably leant a bit hard, my bike wasn't exactly level with his but a little behind as we went down a slight incline, and my bike just went sliding from under me.

It was a weird experience that moment of hitting the ground and sliding along the tarmac to an eventual halt. Familiar in that I'd seen it many times watching races on TV, yet so foreign not having experienced it myself before. I attempted to move straight away (I was lying face down and my bike was on top of me - I think, although witnesses may have a more accurate description) but it hurt so much I had to just lie there for a minute or so, not caring about anything but the pain. After a couple of minutes I rolled over, assisted by the others in the group, and lay again for a minute or so before I sat up a little.

A woman who was a nurse and happened to be standing there at the crit track had seen the accident and came over and checked me for broken bones, head injury etc. It seemed that there was nothing immediately dramatically wrong, but this didn't help me feel a lot better, and despite my hopes that I would be tougher in this sort of situation, I started to cry with the pain and shock. I have come to the conclusion now that this is SO to be expected for many people when something like this happens, and it is silly to feel embarrassed about crying, because it's a horrible experience and very deserving of tears. And it doesn't mean you're soft, it is just the brain's way of dealing with what has just happened.

When I was ready to move a little and he was sure that nothing was broken, Simon took me over to the side of the track and sat with me for a while, asking me more questions and checking to see what other possible injuries I might have. On inspection, there was some obvious road rash - thank goodness I was wearing layers, or the wounds would most likely have been more extensive - and my upper arm hurt when I moved it, although it didn't feel broken, there wasn't enough tenderness and no swelling. My lovely Vikings jersey which I had just gotten a couple of weeks ago had a big hole in the elbow.

As the group continued their training - they were all really concerned when the accident happened, but somebody (Rach?) figured that it might be better for me to have some space to recover - I actually enjoyed watching as I started to recover a little and the shock subsided - it was a nice distraction and they looked really cool sprinting around the track!

As I had my car, Simon drove me home with Anna following in her car, as I couldn't fit his bike in my car as well. Anna stuck around with me at my place, waiting while I showered and gingerly peeled off clothing, dreading what goriness was underneath. A large patch of skin on my knee was sheared off and I had a smaller patch of road rash on my elbow. There was some major bruising, stiffness and swelling happening already on my knee and elbow around the wounds. And my upper arm muscle - it LOOKED absolutely fine, didn't feel at all tender to the touch, but certain movements, sometimes just tiny ones in a certain direction, were enough to make me gasp with pain.

I showered and cleaned up the road rash as best I could, wincing with the stinging and the pain in my arm. I'm glad Anna was there, because I really needed someone there after I got out of the shower and awkwardly and painfully dressed myself. As I came out to the lounge room, she asked how I was and I burst into tears again, I think just looking properly at the damage, and the pain from showering and dressing was too much, it just got to me a bit. I was a bit worried that my arm hurt so much, and Anna rang her mum to ask about medical centre/emergency options. She also spoke to her brother who had broken a bone (his arm?) recently and after discussing his experience with me, we concluded that it was unlikely it was broken. I decided to just do the RICE thing (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation) as I couldn't face trying to sort out after hours medical care or waiting hours in Emergency at the hospital.

Anna helped me pack a few things into a bag and drove me to my sister and brother-in-law's place (I decided to delay telling my mum as I knew she'd freak out) so that I wouldn't be by myself if the pain did get worse. I spent the night there, tended to carefully by Annie and Pierre who made me some tasty healing soup and pasta and helped with dressing my wounds.

After an uncomfortable night of broken sleep, I got up the next morning and again assessed my injuries. It didn't feel any worse than last night, but not much better either. On the way home from Annie and Pierre's place, we stopped by the chemists for some special dressings which had been recommended to me by several cycling people. They are sort of like a thickened piece of glad wrap - you can see through them to check the healing of the wound, and they don't absorb any fluid or gunk but create a very moist environment which is supposed to be the new standard for healing rather than letting things dry out. Now, apologies to any squeamish people out there, but this is the grossest part - it means that all the yellowy ooze from the wound just pools in there, and you have to loosen the dressing a little at the edge to let the fluid out if a lot collects in there. It's pretty disgusting and I felt a little ill just looking at it!

The rest of Sunday afternoon and evening and this morning passed pretty uneventfully - I watched the Tour de France 2nd stage on Sun night until I fell asleep, which was an enjoyable distraction. I found though that my arm was still pinging with pain when I attempted to do so many simple things like pull jumpers on and off, put my hair up, even just moving in a certain way when sitting or lying down. The pain would actually make me feel a bit sick, it's a sort of deep muscle type pain.

I had been taking Panadol only, as my stomach is sensitive to painkillers like Nurofen. It became clear though when I saw the doctor this afternoon that I needed something stronger to deal with the pain, as it was starting to wear me down. She prescribed Panadeine Forte, and gave me a referral for an ultrasound and X-ray of my shoulder and arm if the pain wasn't improved by Thursday. The nurse at the medical clinic also re-dressed the wounds, explaining that the 'Tegaderm' clear dressings are really supposed to be used in sterile environments such as hospitals and more for regular observation of the wound where regular dressings would obscure the view. She said that in other circumstances such as mine, it is better to use Bepanthen cream to keep the wound moist, then a regular non-stick dressing to absorb the ooze, so that there wasn't so much moisture that it encouraged bacterial growth. It seems that there are many differing opinions on this sort of wound management depending on who you talk to, but she seemed to be experienced and knowledgeable in this area, and it didn't seem that her recommendation would cause harm, so I decided to go with it.

She seemed a bit surprised as well that I hadn't gone to Emergency or at least a medical clinic straight after it happened. Thinking about it now, it probably would have been a good idea. I really wasn't keen on it at the time, but I guess there's always the chance that something important could get missed that needs immediate treatment.

So that brings me to now, feeling sore and stiff, a bit guilty for choosing a sport with a high risk of accident and injury, a bit worried about how this might affect both my bike riding/racing and my other non-bike life stuff (work and such) in the immediate future.

I hope this post is helpful in some way rather than detrimental - I don't want to put anyone off riding or racing, but I guess it's a reality of what we're doing that injuries will happen.

If any of you have a perspective on this aspect of cycling that you would like to share, I'd be really keen to hear it. To know how you've dealt with past accidents/injuries or any concerns or fears you have around this and whether it affects what you decide to do or not to do on the bike.