I’ll start, because yeah I’ve got a chip on my shoulder.
Few years ago, I was hit by a car while riding my motorbike in central London. Driver wasn’t paying attention, they got cautioned and later charged with driving without due care.
My leg got crushed between the bike and car, causing what’s known as a ‘trimalleolar’ fracture, basically every bone holding the foot to the leg was broken in at least one place. Let’s just say the realisation your foot is pointing to 9′o’clock with your leg straight isn’t something I’d want to wish on anyone. I also broke my elbow and got minor lacerations to my face.
Got sedated with IV ketamine at the scene, later found out I’d been lying unconscious on a trendy street in London in my underwear after the paramedics stripped me.
Woke up in the trauma ward all wired up to machines but in relatively good spirits all things considered. Because I’d been unconscious when admitted, I was referred to by an alias they’d written on my wristband. I’m not sure I even remember being called by my name the whole time I was there, nobody seemed to know who I was other than just this label from my wristband.
I was told there and then it was a life changing injury. When you hear the surgeon say to your family ’we’ll do all we can to save his leg’, you know it’s pretty bad. One detail I remember is the radiologist saying I was the 14th motorcyclist they’d x-rayed that day- this was about 11am…
Then it was just frustration after frustration. Spent a week on a ward, didn’t really know what the waiting was for. Was told I needed surgery but didn’t know when. I couldn’t leave my bed so I was eating sleeping, and yep, using the toilet, from the bed. Poor old guys were there wandering around in gowns hanging off unintentionally exposing themselves, not getting to the toilet in time etc. Definitely a few moments where you just can’t believe this is a 21st century hospital in one of the most developed cities in the world.
About a week later I was told I was going for surgery to get ‘ORIF’ or ‘open reduction, internal fixation’, basically opened up and plated/screwed back together. Went for surgery and was woken up by this super abrupt, really miserable seeming guy who just said ’couldn’t do the operation as planned so you’re in external fixation’- like a metal frame around my leg with pins and rods holding it all in place.
I was super low at this point. It was the weekend so it felt like no ‘proper’ staff were around, nobody had answers to my questions etc. I was on a huge ward with people with all manner of ailments so wasn’t sleeping. I’d dread Friday evening as you knew once it was past about 5pm, you’d be getting nowhere until Monday morning. I managed to convince the staff to let me go home. They weren’t concerned with me going as at the time I lived in a single-level apartment but they hadn’t got the staff to sort the processing and prescriptions out so it took ages to get me home.
I was much much happier at home and felt enormously better a few days later. I got called to go for final surgery about a week later. Was in theatre for about 8 hours while they reconstructed my leg, the physio came the next morning and I couldn’t wait to get home so dosed up on codeine and grinned through the pain while showing the physio I could use crutches I was back home the following day.
The hospital didn’t make any follow up referrals so I had to arrange all the physio afterwards. Many many hours spent in waiting rooms for subsequent appointments. It was a good few months before I was able to start assisted walking again, and I’ve got permanent injuries - a limp, I can’t run really and I can’t snowboard which was something I used to enjoy. Pain is pretty much chronic and the Dr’s said it’ll be painful and ultimately arthritic indefinitely. Also, despite the x-rays showing a broken elbow, it was never treated at all so I now can’t straighten it fully.
The whole experience was just unpleasant and dehumanising. I was in one of the biggest, most modern hospitals in London (and the UK) and it felt like I’d been reduced to a number. Trying to get information, or help was just massively challenging. Test results needed to be chased, you always had this unnerving feeling that the wrong medication or tests could have been administered by accident. I had another road accident while living elsewhere in Europe and the difference in care was absolutely staggering.
Needless to say we now have private healthcare. The emergency staff at the time of my crash were fantastic, absolute superstars, but from that point on it was just a series of frustrating and unpleasant experiences.
However, any motorbike crash you ultimately walk away from has to be looked at positively in some way and I’m thankful it wasn’t worse.
We left London shortly after. It wasn’t the city we knew and loved anymore and trying to navigate it while on crutches and injured was a bit of a nightmare. This is what pushed me into taking home espresso seriously as we no longer had access to all the great coffee shops.
So if anything positive came from it it’s a fantastic hobby and a great community here!
