letter to derrek

Hey Derrek
Great to hear from you
November 19th I was riding to work
I had been riding to work for the last few months. I was gaining confidence because I was not getting frustrated. However on November 19th, I CRACKED. I think you'll understand my feeling
I just got out from the toilet at the Imperial Palace and mounting my bike on the sidewalk to continue to work. Another cyclist came around and cut me off. Before I could think about my safety I decided to seek revenge. In a fit of bike rage no longer contained I became more stupid to punish the other persons stupidity. It was maybe the 100th time it had happened to me and it I wasn't the first time I had done this but I paid the price this time. I came up and tried to cut him off. He must have panicked and swerved into me. Because the next thing I knew I was standing besides my crashed MTN bike wondering where I was. I went from loosing control of my feelings to loosing consciousness. I couldn’t believe what I had just done and I felt like I was in dream. I knew I had to get to work so I apologized and told him I would send an apology email. That satisfied him and the policeman at the scene. I rode to work. I was in pain in my right shoulder. My helmet was smashed. I did my classes then I went to a nearby hospital. It was a military hospital and I didn't have my insurance card with me any way so I rode home. I took a hot bath, drank a beer and popped some ibuprofen, slapped on an ice pack and I began to feel better. I went to work the following days but not with bicycle as I realized I lacked the temperment to bike commute at least for the time being. I had time off during the week to see a doctor, however I saw no need since I just saw some contusions and I just kept up the painkillers and ice packs for a week. I did write an apology email to the guy but I didn't take responsibility for the accident, instead I simply put that I "regretted the incident" and left it at that. The following weekend Yoshiko and I went hiking in beautiful Yamanashi prefecture for red leaf watching and an overnight stay.


My arm was in a makeshift sling but I was feeling better, strangely the bump on my right shoulder was still not fading. The Sunday morning after our return I went cycling and felt okay. We went shopping on our bikes later that day and my backpack felt strange on my back. Finally we noticed that my right scapula was drooping. We decided to see a doctor the following evening to figure out what was going on. The doctor saw my shoulder and said I had a contusion. I pointed out my scapula and he said let's do an x-ray. That’s when we learned the truth of my injury. I had a completely separated clavicle. It was just hanging out there. The doc said it was too late to reset it and I'd have to go to the hospital and see what they could do for me.
I went to the hospital and they took new x-rays and completely reviewed my injuries. They came to the conclusion I had two choices. Either do nothing and have the separation for the rest of my life or do surgery. I figured that this was the time to do the surgery, as I believed that it would be a hellish problem in my life especially when I get older. I opted for the surgery, which would be placing a metal piece in my shoulder to hold the clavicle down while the ligaments will be stitched back together and healed. So I went to the hospital for surgery on December 5th.
Keep in mind that because of the location and involvement of the procedure I would have to be put under completely, totally knocked out for a couple hours. I had to come a day before. They didn't let me leave and I just had to hang out and eat skimpy meals. I couldn't sleep and the snoring of the other patients was intolerable. In the morning I couldn't take a crap and I couldn't have my morning coffee or in fact any food. They asked me to try a self-induced enema. I put the tube in and squeezed the liquid up my ass. I pulled the tube out and the applicator tip stuck in my rectum. I had to push it out and it came out with a bunch of stinky water. No stools... They finally gave up on me taking a crap and prepared my surgery. They injected me and brought me to the operating room. The doctor looked like he was in his element, the anesthesiologist put a mask over my face and told me in English, “take deep breaths”… I woke up and was being returned to my bed. The doctor said it was a success. My shoulder was fucking killing me. They put me on the bed and I think they believed I would just lie there with the painkillers coursing through my veins in a deep sleep. In order to facilitate this sleep they put some weird circulation leg warmers on my shins and a heavy heat blanket over me. There was a tube in my penis. I was having nothing of it. My shoulder was fucking killing me. I was whimpering and crying in pain, kicking off the blanket and leg warmers and demanding to be re-positioned on the bed for I was sure that was the primary reason the pain was so outstanding. However it was very hard to convey these concerns because my throat was totally dried out from having a tube thrust in it during the surgery not to mention the oxygen mask on my face. So the nurse put some super strong painkiller with a liquid anti neurotic and it kept me asleep for a little while. But again I woke up and still felt really bad. I finally reached over with my trusty left hand and drew my right elbow in toward my body. For some reason the surgery team had rested my elbow pointing out which twisted the shoulder and the moment I brought my elbow in toward my body 80% of the pain vanished. I could finally rest. But again in a few hours I woke up because of the snoring from the other patients in the room and my hunger. I called the night nurse and asked if she would remove the penis tube. She brought out a syringe, which attached to the tube and pulled water right out of my dick, which hurt, then she removed the tube which HURT MORE THAN ANYTHING. She was a very nice nurse and I felt kind of sorry but I was just in hell. Next I tried to pee and it felt like burning pain from hell and only a trickle came out. The nurse told me it would go away soon. Finally the morning came and the nurse said I could drink water. I drank a half-liter and peed again. The pee felt better and I was relieved. Next they brought breakfast. I ate and it burned my mouth. I had not eaten in 36 hours. I ate more slowly and it was all right. Then I began to feel the painkillers working. I was really relaxed. I went down to the hospital shop and bought a pack of donuts. I ate all of them and felt great. I went back up to my bed and ordered and ice pack. The patients in the room were much more quiet awake then asleep. I relaxed well and napped all day while switching ice packs. My cycling buddy Kishi san visited me and then Yoshiko came and we were able to check out of the hospital. My bill was around 1400 dollars for the three days and two nights. We had a real meal for dinner at a Bar/ Restaurant. I came home and had my first evening sleep in three days. In the morning I took a real crap. I'm at home now and recovering well enough to write this email to you. I got to go to work tomorrow. I have my stationary trainer set up to ride with one hand. The metal shoulder piece has to stay in for about two or three months then I have to do surgery AGAIN.
I have to decide if I really have the temperament to bike to work any more in Tokyo. It's something I've been doing for the last fifteen years, but it's no longer a need. I do get to pocket my commutation fee when I cycle to work, but 1400 bucks is a lot more than any commutation fee for years to come. I like my job here and we have a nice condominium, life is good here but what are my limitations? Can still ride in the mornings, Sundays, or on my stationary trainer if I choose never to commute again?
Lyle