Ok so I know that I said this blog exists to follow the humorous adventures and misadventures that I have with my family but it is important that I first cover off on heavy stuff. This is the blog that almost wasn’t. I was nearly killed in a motorcycle accident in June 2017 when I was hit by a car while heading home from work. To make matters worse, it was pizza night with the kids and we were all quite keen for our weekly custom.
The accident occurred because the other car failed to give way and pulled out in front me from a side street leaving me no where to go. We collided and I was thrown from my bike and down the road. Both of my wrists were broken during the initial impact due to the force through the handlebars; I also dislocated my right wrist, crushed a nerve in my right hand and I tore two ligaments in my right knee which would ultimately require a double knee reconstruction (but I wouldn’t learn that for a few months). At one point in the emergency room I even stopped breathing (a fact I didn’t learn until a few days later).
I tell this story not to brag about my excellent morphine induced emergency room jokes (which were top shelf Dad jokes), nor my Team America-esque marionette style arm motion (due to the casts) but because this also coincided with the worst of my wife’s pregnancy related sickness. She had spent the previous couple of weeks laid up in bed and the stress and strain of my accident nearly cost us the baby. This was also possibly the lowest point in my life because never have I felt as hopeless or helpless as I did the day that my wife was at the hospital being reviewed for a potential miscarriage but I was stuck in bed several floors above her unable to support her in person because of my own injuries. We would also go on to spend the next few weeks pretty much stuck in bed together tag teaming the simplest of duties such as cooking a sausage sizzle for dinner (she couldn’t handle the smell of cooking snags but I couldn’t cut the onions or butter the bread). By far though my best culinary effort was the night that it took me an hour to heat up two tins of pumpkin soup and butter two slices of toast.
All levity aside though, a small variation to initial inputs such as my speed or line at the time of impact and I probably wouldn’t be around to joke about it, meet my soon to born third child or write this blog. As it is, my accident has come to define much of my wife’s pregnancy as she was only 8 weeks at the time. On the bright side though, I now have some sweet scars.