Not the North Fork Century recap
It’s 1:30 pm on Sunday, and I should be on the North Fork of Long Island more than halfway toward my first-ever cycling century (that is, a 100-mile ride). Instead I’m home from the hospital, nursing a very swollen lip and sore ribs, having crashed before I even got to the bus.
I was up at 3:45 am, with everything set out for clothes, gear, money, photocopies of my driver’s license and medical insurance card, etc. Missy was up with me, so she wished me good luck and told me to call her when I got to the bus at 31st Street and 8th Avenue that would take us out to North Fork. I was *dreading* the ride from the apartment to the bus, much more than the 100-mile ride itself. All of the bars close at 4 am, and there are tons of crazy people out. I pondered taking a cab, if I could find one that would take me and my bike, but decided to tough it out and ride the mile and a half to the entrance. I left our apartment just after 4, and was meeting my bike group at 4:15. Down CPW, through Columbus Circle, then on to the newly-created bike lane down Broadway. I’d take that throguh Times Square, bear right on to 7th Avenue, then turn right on to 31st to get to the bus.
At 57th and Broadway I thought that I would be better-off in a cab. It had rained overnight and all of the roads were slick. Taxis were racing down Broadway, and drunks were wandering about into the street, trying to hail one. Through Times Square I jumped on to the sidewalk for a block because it was safer. On 7th Avenue police cars blocked the far right lane, so I was constantly looking over my shoulder to see if I had room. When I got to Penn Station at 32nd and 7th, I was kinda relieved and decided that I could just hop on to the 31st Street sidewalk to get to 8th I went to make the turn through a puddle and….
*SMACK*
Not sure exactly how, but my wheels gave out a bit underneath me and I hit the curb, flying off the bike and landing face-first on to the sidewalk. I got up and thought for a second, “am I OK?”, and instantly realized that my right front tooth was bent in (though not dislodged, and not loose) and I had cut the inner part of my upper lip badly. I then needed to sit back down as my head felt light. Thankfully, nothing else in me seemed to be broken and I had not lost consciousness and so I went into my back pocket, pulled out my phone, and called Missy.
“Hi honey! You made it to the bus OK?”
“I fell. I fell on my face at 31st Street and 7th Avenue.”
“Call 911, I’m coming down.”
I then called 911, told the dispatcher where I was, and then saw two of my bike club people, Mike and Felicia, riding down 31st. I called out for Mike by name, and they stopped to check in on me. The cops arrived, then Missy arrived by taxi, and then the ambulance. My 100-mile bike ride day was over at 1.5 miles logged. Mike and Felicia went off to catch the bus, Missy took the bike via taxi back to the apartment, and I took the ambulance over to New York Hospital at 68th and Lenox.
I ended up being at the hospital from about 5:15 until 9. I have four or five stiches on my inside upper lip, a tetanus shot, a prescription for Percoset, and I have to go back tomorrow to have their dental group (which is closed on Sunday) look more closely at the bent tooth. The only other injuries were a couple of jammed fingers on my left hand, none broken, and a very small surface gash on my right knee. After sitting around for a couple of hours I noticed that my right side rib cage also started to feel very sore, and it remains so now, nearly ten hours later. I don’t think I broke a rib but we’ll see how that feels tonight and tomorrow. I exchanged IMs with Felicia just to let her and the others know that I was fine, and she responded that at 8:30 am they were still waiting for the weather in Greenport to clear up. Hopefully, they got going and are well on their way.
In retrospect it was my tiredness, laziness and general idiocy that caused me to fall. Our SIG leader Paul would tell me that that’s what I get for cutting corners in wet road conditions, and he’d be right. I fear that they might not be able to save the tooth tomorrow and I’ll need a replacement, or that the surgery needed to get it back into shape is more extensive than just nudging it back into place. It’s hard to eat because my bite is off, and I feel like my tooth is a foreign object in my mouth. The lip will heal on its own in a few days but for now I look like I lost a fight. And, most depressing to me, my first century ride is now likely put off to September. On the plus side, it certainly could have been worse (like hit by a car or broken an arm or leg), and New York Hospital is a better place to be treated than St. Luke’s Roosevelt. And who knows, maybe I’ll end up with braces and my teeth bleached, and the whole thing will be some ego-boosting cosmetic improvement. We’ll see what the oral surgeon says tomorrow.
2 years ago