It has taken me just over a year to get to this point.
Today was my final appointment at the hospital in relation to my broken ulna. Broken right across in an bicycle accident 30 April 2015. My final check up.
It is just a short 10 minutes walk from home to that familiar tired old building. One building of many many within the expansive St Vincent hospital area in Melbourne.
As I sit in the waiting room of the St Vincent hospital’s “Red Clinic”, I reflect over the event for the last year.
I was pretty sure that the hospital would discharge me this time. In fact, the doctor wanted to discharge me after my last visit there. I managed to convince the doctor of one more appointment. Which I then postponed to after Good Mrs and I had been overseas and returned home. Just in case that something would turn out during that trip.
Nothing did and here I was.
Looking now at the picture I took from inside the hospital above, I hope that I am not violating any privacy laws. The two people you see in the picture are both staff, not patients, so I think not. Hopefully not.
After 30 minutes or so in the waiting room, somebody calls out my name and I am transferred to a treatment room. Another few minutes of waiting until a doctor arrives. This was my view while waiting there.
The assessment is over in a couple of minutes. The doctor and I had a bit of a chat and he asked me to move and bend the arm in various directions. The doctor finished off by suggesting that “we probably don’t need to see you here anymore”. In other words, I was discharged.
So what had led up to this point?
Well, I was “flying” over my bike as I instinctively slammed the brakes trying to avoid hitting a dog who appeared in front of my bike. I hit the asphalt on that bicycle path with my bended right arm first, with the result that my right ulna broke right through. Just below the elbow.
A trip to St Vincent Hospital’s emergency ward followed and an operation a few days after that. The doctors put 3 wires into my right arm to ensure correct and aligned healing. All that happened inside this main hospital building.
There were then some ups and downs during the first healing process. I did complete walking the 775km Camino de Santiago with the help of hiking poles some months later. Although I did cancel my trip at one time, only to rebook it later.
After I returned to Australia, I had a second operation to remove those wires. That was back in early December last year.
The second healing process started off well, but the injured area got inflamed after Australia Day weekend. I am sure that I got “cocky” and overdid things. Too much of everything so close after the second operation. Too much hiking, too much going to the gym, too much swimming. The inflammation set me back yet again, but eventually things improved and here we are.
The below is not a french stick or a piece of bread. This is how the scar and my skinny arm look like today. The doctors told me that the scar itself will gradually turn white which would make it less and less visible over time.
Never mind, a few battle scars just proves that you have lived, right? Shark attack, anyone?
Now that I am discharged from the hospital, there is only one final thing to do. Get back onto and ride that bike. And stay on it.
I have booked my bike in for service next Monday, just in case, but after that… If my mind will not play tricks on me…
I spare you, dear reader, any more pictures from how my arm looked immediately after the accident. If you are really interested and have not seen it yet, I have published pictures from then in an earlier post. You will find them if you want.