My Bike Acco

Ok, I have been asked to put my story in writing so here goes, I'm by no means a novelist so I'll just tell it as I would if I was talking to ya face to face . I have been ordered by the NSW courts not to publish this story or at least the outcome and details of the court case, but I will include some info as I feel it has some importance and will also help you to understand the outcome.

The NSW courts can either sue me or take a flying fuck at the moon, the choice is theirs .

The story starts on the 21/11/86, I am heading to Melbourne from Sydney to my brother in-laws wedding with my good mate Steve. As luck would have it my missus decided to catch the train down rather than sit on the back of my bike for 10 or so hours. The other fantastic bit of luck is the fact that Steve is a fully qualified first aid officer.

I arrived at Steve's house at around 7 am in the morning, it was unusually cold for this time of the year and so we both carried some extra clothing knowing that the weather in Vic can be a bitch at the best of times. We left Steve's shortly before 8 am and made our way through the burbs and onto the Hume Hwy at Liverpool, we were in no hurry as we had all day to make the trip and also knowing the stretch between Liverpool and Goulburn is a HWP wannabe magnet, we cruised along at a nice steady  pace.

On reaching Goulburn it was time for a little snack, we settled for the usual Bacon & Egg roll, then shortly after headed off again, the time was now approx 11am, so as you can see we were not breaking any speed records getting there. My memory becomes a bit vague after this point and so I am relying on information supplied to me by Steve and other witnesses. As we left Goulburn, heading for a little town called Gunning (which is now bypassed),  Steve was riding in front, the last think I recall is Steve slowing down and as I pulled along side him I noticed him zipping his jacket up to protect himself against the cold wind, from here I was riding in front, but it was to be a very short lived lead.

As we approached the Cullerin Ranges, we found ourselves on some badly cambered winding corners, I had made it through the first few and came upon a very tight S bend with a recommended speed limit of 65kms, ( note: this is for all weather conditions), I made it through the first bend, and then the second, but as I was exiting the second bend and heading up a slight incline, there was a freshly patched pothole in the natural cornering line of a bike (or car for that matter).

The instant my bike hit this patch, I lost traction with the rear wheel ( I was in the process of righting the bike from a leaning position and accelerating out of the corner), and the bike flicked out toward the edge of the road, I managed to correct the slide, but unfortunately as I regained traction, the bike gripped and tossed me over the handle bars, at this stage things start to get real interesting.

As I am sliding on my arse towards the wrong side of the road with the bike sliding only slightly behind me in the same direction, (both heading South up the hill), a Semi trailer happens to be heading North down the hill right into the path I was travelling. The truck driver saw what was about to happen and did the normal thing of jumping on the brakes.

The bike ended up wedged under the prime mover, while I ended up sliding in under the tri axle (under full brakes), all 6 wheels of the tri-axle on the trailer ran over the top of me and then spat me out the back to be nearly run over by car following the semi. The bike exploded on impact and set fire to the prime mover, (who just happened to be carrying ~20 tonnes of flammable liquids), his hydraulics were burnt and as a result had to be towed 36km's into Goulburn, hehe, this is to me the only real funny part of the whole story.

By this time, Steve has caught up and when he rounded the corner, all he seen was my bike under the semi, flames everywhere and a very distressed truck driver ( he along with everyone else thought I was dead). So, Steve put the fire out, used the CB in the truck to call for help and then came around the back of the truck to see what was left of me. As usual I greeted him with a grin, (yes I was still conscious) , and enquired about the condition of my bike . Needless to say it was stuffed, I assume you have seen the pictures, if not then get on with it.

As luck would have it, Steve is a trained first aid officer and a bloody big bloke to go with it, I know for a fact that I owe my life to him and his quick, level headed, and pig headed decisions (explained later). There also happened to be an off duty cop following the semi and his experience and actions were also a big help. Together they made sure I was in a position to have my helmet removed, the rest they left for the pro's.

As we were all waiting for the cops and the ambo's, a priest happened to stop (well he didn't have much choice, the road was blocked for an hour or so), and as all good priests do, came over for a bit of a rubber neck. What he seen didn't instil him with much confidence in me being around for next Sundays mass, so he proceeded in giving me the last Rites (this is where the explanation on Steve's pigheadedness and size comes in). Steve is about as religious as I am, hehe, meaning we go to church for weddings and funerals and that's it (what? that surprises you ?? ), now when he seen said priest leaning over me mumbling some ritual crap, he grabbed him by the collar and literally lifted him away saying something along the lines of, "Fuck orf, he ain't dead yet and ain't gunna be anytime soon", hehe, Steve is Da Man .

The Police arrived before the ambulance, took one look at the bike and myself, wrote it off as a fatal accident and actually left the scene shortly after the ambulance arrived, it took approx 20 minutes for it to arrive, by this time I had been in and out of consciousness more times than a groom on his honeymoon  .

This is where the story takes a turn and takes on a graphic description, (that is after all *why* you are reading this yes ??), I am told that no less than 4 people that were rubber necking actually leaned over the Armco railing and puked  when all the gooey bits were exposed, bloody sooks . As per normal procedure the ambo's cut my leather gear off, (apparently the leather is what saved my legs from being torn off), in doing so they revealed my right knee which was basically "open" to view, my kneecap was smashed and eventually removed, too many bits to rebuild they told me, so any wishes I had of kneeling to pray in the future were taken away <HEG> .

There was also a gaping gash behind my left knee, which I am told was not a pretty sight. My left femur was snapped clean off and had actually turned 180° plus over lapped by around 6 inches (150mm), this meant that my left foot was facing in the opposite direction and was far from where it should have been, the ambo's kindly told me to hang onto something while they straightened it out as it "might" hurt .
I grabbed Steve's hand as it was the closest thing around, and to this day (16 years after), I still remember the pain as they pulled and twisted my leg, I nearly broke Steve's hand by squeezing it, and apparently let out a scream that will haunt many people for years to come.

Speaking to the ambo doc at the hospital a couple of weeks after the event is how I learned the next bit of info. Normally with suspected spinal injuries the ambulance travels at a fairly slow speed for obvious reasons, in my case the doc said it was the first time she had ever seen the needle on the speedo bouncing off its stopper, the ambo was one of the old F100 type, she reckons they were doing around the 200 mark!.

Arrive at hospital.

Ok, arrive at Goulburn Base Hospital in the following condition:

No blood pressure ( had 12 pints transfused over the following few days, some of which was unscreened)
No pulse (my heart stopped 4 times in the back of the ambo on route)
Suspected Spinal injuries (which turned out to be c3, c4, c5 and L5 )
Broken Left Femur
Left Femoral artery cut (that explains lack of blood pressure )
Broken right knee
Smashed right knee cap
Broken right ankle
Broken right wrist
Both hips broken
Pelvis broken in two places
Severe nerve damage to right shoulder (this was to be my biggest challenge during my recovery)
3 cracked vertebrae in my neck (which were not found until many years later while searching for the reason to severe constant headaches) and also a ruptured disc at L5

Some other minor injuries that were discovered during the following few days, were a couple of broken ribs, burns to my right arm and right leg, the Sartorius Muscle was torn off at the knee joint and has just curled up a died I guess ?, my Tibialis Anterior muscle was squashed to the extent where it broke out of its protective covering, (basically a hernia), and now when it flexes it stands proud as a huge lump on the front of my leg, great party trick .

Hospital stay and Operations

The main aim was obviously to stop the bleeding, repair the damaged arteries and then to put the pieces back where they belonged, and hopefully facing to right direction. From memory I was in and out of surgery at least 4 times the first week, during one of the latter operations they inserted a 425mm long titanium pin inside my left femur, it was removed 8 months later as it shifted and was causing great discomfort, it now rests in a drawer somewhere.

My right kneecap was also removed during the first week, it was decided not to put in a replacement as they usually only last ten years and I was young and fit enough to manage without it. As a result of the operation and trauma to my knee, the scar tissue and lack of use caused it to lock in a slightly bent position, after months of physio and seeing a so called specialist, (I would love to name him, but can't afford the lawsuit), I was introduced to a new orthopaedic surgeon, who after looking at my leg, x-ray's and physio reports, had me in hospital again the following day. They basically used brute force to break the scar tissue and when I woke up, I was on a machine that was bending my knee joint for me 24 hours a day for a week. I was told that as it had been left for so long, I would probably never be able to get more than 90° bend out of it, but after much pain and training, I can now bend it as far as I always could.

I was in intensive care for just under two weeks, by the third week they had me up on crutches starting to walk again, the nurses, doctors and all the staff at Goulburn Base Hospital, were in no uncertain terms responsible for my fast recovery, they were a great bunch of people, hard as nails, but all had a great sense of humour. I could write a book on my time in that hospital, it was probably the worst time in my life and yet I had great fun there, they were real good at practical jokes, so you had to be alert all the time. One thing *all* hospitals have in common though, and I cannot understand the reason?, is that they insist in waking you to ask if you would like something to help you sleep .

In the last week of my stay, quite a few of numerous stitches were removed, on one occasion the nurse pulling the stiches was called away and said to me ,"you keep going, I'll be back soon", so I did, hehe, pulled several of the stitches out and when she came back she freaked and screamed "I was kidding", and "you are a sicko", dunno what her problem was?.

When I was first admitted, my family was told to expect my stay to be around 2.5-3 months, I walked (well not quite) out one day short of a month, two days before Christmas 86, now the struggle and pain would really start.

Recovery

The first few weeks back home I spent at my parents house as I live in a split level house which is not ideal on crutches, being Christmas time not much was done in the way of recovery, from memory all I done for two weeks was lie on their lounge taking pills and basically sooking about the pain and missing out on all the summer activities, shit happens.

I spent the next few months at Westmead Hospital Rehab section, which at the time felt like a torture camp somewhere in the middle east, but again I owe the staff there a great deal as they also know how to push you to your limits and beyond, which is what is needed if you ever want to become normal again, (ok as normal as can be). I had to learn how to walk again, its surprising how fast your muscles dwindle away when you don't use them, I also had to learn to use my right arm/hand all over again.

The nerve damage in my right shoulder was not as bad as they first thought, but bad enough to stop all muscle activity for nearly two months, after that my arm looked just like skin and bone, I had to learn to do everything left handed, which doesn't sound that bad, but try brushing your teeth or wiping ya backside left-handed sometime (or the opposite hand for the lefties). As mentioned, this injury was to become my greatest hurdle as without the use of my arm, I couldn't continue working as an electrician, and even worse, I couldn't continue with my favourite past time, hunting. The initial tests and reports all said the same thing, the arm was stuffed and get used to it, change your lifestyle. That I couldn't accept and so went from specialist to specialist until I finally found one that cared for more than the money, he told me, "don't give up on it until it falls off", he gave me some renewed hope and I started to exercise the arm any way I could, today I guess I have 90% use in the arm and no one can tell by looking at it that its not normal.

It took me 9 months from the day of the accident to get back to work full time, as for making a full recovery, I am still working on that one, I still suffer from constant headaches, weakness in my right arm, aches and pains in a lot of the broken bits, (specially when there is a change in the weather), my knee lets go from time to time, causing me either to stumble or fall, hehe, brings amusement to the guys I work with. My hips, pelvis and shoulder also get aggravated if I spend too much time in one position, eg. in cars, at the movies etc, again, shit happens, only the depth varies .

The Legal hassles.

The first battle started while I was still in hospital, some young copper came in and informed me I was being charged with Negligent Driving, and had to appear in court, this was postponed until I was able to walk.

At that first court appearance, everyone (with the exception of the prosecutor and the local Sgt), was on my side, including the truck driver.
There was also independent witnesses who lived locally and knew the roads, one in particular, travelled that section of road twice a day on a bike, so he knew every bump and turn on the road, plus was able to accurately estimate my speed. As a result of the testimony of the  witness and the first Police officer on the scene, the case was tossed out of court, with the Magistrate mentioning it should never have been there to start with, he all but said the newly patched pothole was the cause of the incident, had he done so, things would have turned out much better in the future.

The patch in question it appears was not put down in the normal procedure, if the guys were in a hurry to get to the pub I guess we will never know?, and so its surface turned out slippery, due to the fact that the skid mark from my rear tyre originated from the patch, it was agreed by everyone that it contributed to the accident.

It was decided after consultation with my family and my solicitor that I should sue the NSW RTA for damages, and to cut a ten year ordeal short, it was going well until the day of the court case, when the truck driver, (for a still unknown reason), decided to change his story and state that I was riding like a racer, Mick Doohan style, and he estimated my speed at 120kms. This took everyone by surprise and needless to say, did not go down well. The courts were looking at a young man with (at the time) the most powerful motorcycle on the road, who had walked into the courtroom and didn't show any signs of injury, (remember this is ten years later).

The outcome was not what I had hoped for, all I wanted was some compensation for the pain and suffering I had/am going through, plus to recoup my legal/medical fees over the years, thanks to the shithead driving the truck, none of this happened. As I mentioned at the start of this little story, I can't say exactly what the outcome was, I have already told more than I should have.

I will finish this off  with a message for the truck driver, "if you see me coming, you wanna hope like hell that I'm in a good mood".

As you can appreciate, that was a very brief description of a very long story, I might add bits a pieces to it when I get the urge, including pictures, newspaper clip, and reports when I find em all. Thanx for reading my little story and remember,

Live to ride, ride to live.

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