Went to see the surgeon yesterday. No earth shattering good news but at least there wasn't any bad news either. It's still too early to see if my hip is healing correctly (that could take another 3-4 weeks!) but since the pain is subsiding and my mobility is improving, the doc gave me the green light to start hitting the gym, pool and the trainer. Basically anything that doesn't cause hip pain is fair game. Good news for sure since I'm going bat shit crazy not being able to do anything physical except for crutching around everywhere which is surprisingly difficult, especially off road.
Come to think of it, my home trails are mighty lonely, maybe it's time to start a new sport, off road crutching. EXTREME! and only about as dumb as off road unicycles...
A few days before I headed for Vermont on my fateful trip, Marcy and I found ourselves with the VERY RARE opportunity of being kid and work free at the same time giving us the opportunity to ride together. Something that only happens a few times of year. It was a beautiful day for me to show Marcy around some of the Bathers trails. It's a crying shame that they are only 20 minutes from our house yet she never rides there. Hopefully, this was the first of many.
Based on this pic, muscle mass isn't the only weight that I'm losing right now...
It's now been 3 full weeks since I broke my hip and I'm fully engaged in the waiting game at this point. Will the hip heal? Will the bone die? Will I go crazy as I watch one beautiful day after another pass by with me doing diddly squat?
The good news is that the pain is very manageable at this point with just Tylenol so no more narcotics for me. They didn't exactly make me feel good while I was taking them but I was terrified of getting hooked so I got off of those as soon as I could. The bonus good news with that is I can now, officially, enjoy a frosty cold beverage again if the opportunity arises. And it arose this weekend. 3 times.
The other good news is that I think I'll be able to get into the gym soon. I'm sure I won't be doing any hip related exercises (weight bearing at least) any time soon but if I'd like to stem the loss of my muscle mass. At this point, three weeks in, I've already lost 9 lbs (which can partially be blamed on lack of beer consumption as well). You'd think that I'd be happy to be losing weight but 9 lbs already is a bit much. Look out gym rats, here I come!
I have been riddled with guilt since I published the "Mungo Baby" series
of posts. Was I being too cruel? Can Brynna somehow sense that I'm
poking fun at her? Does my butt look big in these jeans? It has gotten
to the point that I can't go home and look at that cute little face and
not feel the need to pluck my eyelashes as penance. I also fear that
with the age that children become computer savvy these days that she may
in fact have the opportunity to read these posts. According to my
calculations Brynna will be online by the time that she's three months
old. "that's absurd!" you say? Well if you consider how things are
progressing with computers these days it doesn't seem so crazy.
Examples: My grandmother learned to use the computer in her 70's (and
when I say learned I mean that she was able to consistently lose all of
her work because she didn't understand the concept of saving). My mom
began using computers at work in her 30's. I started using computers in
my late teens. (notice everybody is progressively getting younger?) I
have nieces and nephews that were surfing by five. So it seems to me
that it doesn't take any huge leap of faith to believe that the current
crop of juves will be computer savy before they are done pooping in
their pants. Just to be on the safe side, I've decided to write Brynna
an apology letter. Here goes.
here. How are things? Chance and Grace are doing well. Joe gave me a
wet willie so I gave him a wedgie. I'm writing this letter to let you
know that I am very sorry for the way that I spoke of your bulbous
melon. Its really not so much bulbous as it is gigantic. (hmmm, this
doesn't sound like a very good apology. let me try a different tact)
Your noggin may be huge but have you looked at daddy's head recently?
When a hat says "One size fits all" in parenthesis below it says
"(except for Rick's big fat grape)". Umbrellas fit my head better than
most hats. What I'm trying to say is that having a big head isn't all
that bad. Sure, when you're walking down the street perfect strangers
will yell out "Hey, whats up kickball head?!" or "can you move over,
you're blocking the sun". But they mean nothing by it and I think that
they are just trying to make conversation.
Mommy is a little
worried that the size of your head could be an indicator of a medical
problem but I told her that there is nothing to be worried about. All us
Nelson's look like walking ping pong paddles and we're all just fine.
For example, when Darren was born his head was so huge that initially
the doctor's told my mom that he was most likely mentally retarded. My
mom protested the diagnosis and simply had to march me and Uncle Rusty
into the room to prove her point. When you get to know Uncle Darren,
you'll see that he's not retarded in the least. He's just a lovable
goof, sort of like a big floppy eared dog. Everybody loves him but get a
bit annoyed when he humps their legs.
So I hope this clears things up.
Love you sweetness.
(p.s. something tells me that I'll be writing an apology to Uncle Darren next)
Things haven't changed much recently so I have nothing to blog about (where are my SSUSA posts you might ask? maybe next week) so I'm going to recycle some of my favorite posts from my now defunct DAMNelson's blog which charted the first few years of Brynna's youth. Rehash #1 will be useful for any man need to learn how to change diapers. Enjoy.
Episode 1 of Ricky's Knee is actually a post from a couple of weeks ago titled "How to be a good dad".
In it, I described (duh) how to be a good dad. I've decided that for
Episode 2 I will elaborate on my first two rules of being a good dad.
Changing diapers and getting poo on your fingers in the process.
Actually, more specifically, how to check to see if a diaper needs to be
changed without getting poo finger.
If, while holding your baby,
you detect a hint of baby potpourri, there are a series of checks you
can make to confirm the presence of dookie.
Step one: With thumb
and finger grasp the bottom of the diaper and give er a squeeze. Did it
feel like a tube of toothpaste? If so, go on to step 2. If not, you're
probably in the clear because it was just a cute little baby fart. Baby
farts are cute, daddy farts are not. Why is this? Discuss.
two: While facing the baby away from you and holding her under the arms,
proceed to jamb your nose into the back of the diaper and take a giant
wiff. Do you feel like passing out? If so, move on to step 3. If not,
rejoice in the fact that you didn't just stick your nose mere fractions
of an inch of baby butt vomit.
Step three: This is where things
can go horribly wrong. Very carefully grasp the back of the diaper at
the waist band, pull it out and peer down baby's plumbers crack. Be
very, very careful not to grasp the inside of the waist band. I have
made this mistake before and got the ole stink finger. Don't say I
didn't warn you. If you have poo on your finger of if you were smart
enough to simply see the poo go onto step 4.
Step four: Arguably
the most important step takes a bit of finesse. In your most frantic
voice, yell to your wife that you "think" baby needs a change but you
just realized you forgot to check the headlight fluid in the car (the
gullibility/intelligence of your wife will dictate how believable the
story needs to be) and that you need to get to it immediately. If you
successfully weezled your way out of changing the diaper, proceed to
step 5. If you're stuck doing it yourself, you're on your own.
five: Sneak out to the garage where you secretly stashed a mini fridge
stocked with beer. Pop open a beer while randomly clanging various
objects around the garage to feign productivity. Enjoy the beer, you've
It occurred to me over the weekend that I didn't really explain my injury very well over the last two weeks. Sure, I gave a brief description but I feel a better one is required. I blame it on all of the pain meds.
A broken hip is a fairly common injury (who doesn't have a grandparent who broke a hip?) and generally heals pretty quickly and easily (assuming you don't have underlying health issues). Unfortunately for me, I like to turn things up a notch and do things right so I had to fracture my femoral head in a unique way. The normal direction of a hip fracture is helped by muscle movement with the muscles actually pulling the bone back together facilitating healing. In some cases, this allows folks with broken hips to walk (tentatively) within a week or so. Me? I had to get creative and break my hip at a odd angle so that every time I use my leg, it pulls the bone apart. This means 6-8 weeks of non-weight bearing. Awesomeness. Did I mention it's my right hip so I can't drive either? Extra awesomeness!
To be honest, while what I described above sucks, the real suckiness revolves around my long term prognosis. There are two possible "issues" that might crop up. In the next few months, I'll know if the bone is going to heal properly or not. Yes, that's right, because of the nature of the break, it may never heal which would require me to have a hip replacement late this fall (and then going through all this non-weight bearing nonsense again). Secondly (and of most concern) is that even if my hip does heal, there is a chance that the bone will die within 24 months because of compromised blood flow again requiring a hip replacement.
That's a long time to think.
You may wonder why my surgeon didn't just do a hip replacement while they had a chance. Good question. The reason is that because of my age, if the hip does in fact heal properly, having my own hip is best for the long haul (fake hips have a life span as well as some limitations).
So that this post isn't all about doom and gloom (whoa is me!), I'll
also grace you with this sweet video of my rocking a power buggie at
Home Depot last week. Drove the ladies wild!
Despite how crappy the weekend ended, the days leading up to the Hip-ocalypse were quite fun. Downright awesome actually. Arriving in Vermont early on Friday afternoon allowed me to meet up with Tyler (he who beat me at the carrabassett 50 last year) for a fun close to three hour tour of the trails around Stowe. Not how I would typically spend the day before a big race but I wasn't taking SS USA seriously anyway. Instead, I was there to ride my bike and have fun so it was all good. After the ride, a dip in the Mad River was had and then beers and burgers at the Matterhorn during the registration party.
Saturday brought a very fun SS USA hosted by Bike29. I've never before managed to have four beers during a race and still finish well and have fun. That post will be coming shortly. Firstly though, is the horrid interview I gave to ThomP for the Cycling Dirt Page. It makes me cringe to watch it so please be kind. Remember, I'm very sensitive these days. :) Watch more video of 2012 SSUSA on thom.cyclingdirt.org
The day last week that I left the hospital, I insisted on taking a shower since they had an almost handicap shower with rails and a chair available and I didn't know when I'd have another chance for a shower since our only shower currently resides on the second floor.
The first few days at home, I subsisted with wet washcloth and baby wipe wipedowns. It wasn't long though that we realized that something had to happen and soon; all night sweats and lots of couch time had given me a serious case of swamp ass as well as a general body funk.
Like the good, sexy nurse that she is, Marcy headed off to buy me a solar shower so I could get my suds on out on the front porch.
Oh glory be was it delectable!
had to keep the undies on because even though we live in the
boonies, we have a 6 yr old in residence
the ducks patiently waited their turns
the only thing that would make this pic sexier is if I had long
flowing hair to toss around instead of a nipple beard.
Hopefully indoor showers will be doable soon but, for now, this will allow Marcy (and anybody else) to be near me without being personally offended.
If you're friends with me on Facebook, you've probably seen the cryptic post I made from the back of an ambulance on Sunday and then the subsequent only slightly less cryptic description a day or two later.
Folks have been curious about details so I'll start to fill them in here. I'm pretty dopey (more on that later) so I'm gonna keep it short and sweet.
Sunday I went for a sweet ride in the hills of Waitsfield with my buddies Jeff and Andy. There was talk about hitting up the Mad River after the ride for a quick dip before my 5 hour drive home.
As we finished up the 3 hour ride, we descended a gravel to pavement road. As we got onto the pavement, I glanced back to make sure Andy had made the turn at the top of the hill not realizing that Jeff was slowing down to go down to the river (I thought we were going to the cars first). When I turned back, I was on top of Jeff and had no time to swerve, grab brake or do any other sort of evasive maneuver. Here is the GoPro video of the ensuing crash.
Jeff and I went down in a pile. I immediately knew that something was very wrong because I had difficulty rolling over. Hoping that it was a case of getting stunned, I laid there hoping to be a be able to walk it off. After about 15 minutes, it was obvious that I was in trouble and an ambulance was called.
A half hour ambulance ride was followed by x-rays (and some of the worst pain I've ever experienced when my foot got stuck on a sheet) and the prognosis that I had a fractured femoral head (crushed actually) and surgery was going to be necessary. That's right folks, 37 year old has a broken hip and the very distinct possibility of a hip replacement in my near future if the bone doesn't recover.
More as I find the time and clarity through the many pain meds.