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On Monday I see the doctor and find out that I have a broken left wrist. Or, more appropriately, it is not a clean break but more of a fracture. I am placed into a fiberglass cast and told to see an orthopedic specialist in the next few days to see if I will get a plaster cast. Or maybe I can convince them to let me have a temporary splint/cast that I can remove (in order to make my life easier). A picture of me in the cast at a Monday evening retirement party is in the current pictures section of this website.
Tuesday is the annual date with coworker Lori for a flu shot. There is no line and even before I can ask the nurse the standard, "Can I inject myself?", the shot is done and she is pushing me out the door. Lori and I continue a technical discussion as we walk back to our respective offices. When she asks me a question that I am thinking about there is a cute little ChiChi approaching. So I stop the ChiChi, who I have never met before, and ask, "If you have an optical line of sight equation defined in a local coordinate system and you rotate the complete model into a basic coordinate system, does that mess up your optical line of sight quantities?"
The ChiChi stops, gives a ponderous smile to both Lori and me, and responds with, "I don't know. I'll have to check my textbooks." And then he continues on his way. Lori is a bit embarrassed when I tell her that I haven't the faintest idea who the ChiChi is, but she knows what to expect these days.
Person M_USC visits me on Tuesday night to have dinner and keep me company during my time of wrist trauma.
On Wednesday I see the othropedic specialist and I don't like the way the appointment is starting because they put me into the room where they apply/form the plaster casts. The doctor and two assistants come in and start looking at my x-rays. I get off the patient bed and join them at the viewer. They focus first on the top of the wrist and I tell them that that is an old injury - you can see the rounded edges of the separated bone which indicates prior calcification. The doctor presses hard on the spot on my wrist and when he sees that I have no pain, he agrees with my diagnosis. Then he focuses on the new crack. I lobby, I plead, I beg, and I persuade that the wrist does not need a plaster cast. I demonstrate on the doctor that I can push, pull, extend, retract, and squeeze with no pain. But I also demonstrate that I do have a bit of pain when I twist inwards but the pain is away from the fracture site. And finally I play my last trump card, "I just HAVE to get back on the motorcycle". The doctor and assistants ask me a few other questions and I am happy to promise to religiously wear the removable cast, abuse Aleve, abuse the ice packs, and come back in four weeks.
Life is good! No plaster cast. And I can jump back on the motorcycle on Thursday. As I'm leaving the doctors says, "But if you ride a motorcycle then I'm sure that we'll see you in here sometime."
To which I reply, "I'm celebrating my 20 year anniversary of daily motorcycle riding in Los Angeles and I have yet to break a bone from it."
In the spirit of Alex Criville I ride the motorcycle to work on Thursday and Friday. (Alex Criville is a former 500cc roadracing world champion who, as he defended his title one year, had a nasty accident on a Friday and broke his wrist. He subsequently sat out the Saturday practice and qualifying but raced on Sunday.) The ride doesn't hurt the wrist much except when I have to stretch out the fingers of the left hand and squeeze to engage the clutch. So, after being pained a few times, I decide to skip the clutch and shift without the clutch. My upshifts are still silky smooth without the clutch but my downshifts are a bit jerky as I get used to the fuel injected response. And I can deal with the pain as I come to a stop and need to use the clutch.
Friday night I install the new carbon fibre Akrapovic exhaust on the R1 (World's fastest production bike) in order to gain a few more horsepower. So on Saturday morning, wrist hurting or not, I have to ride the bike and see how it feels. But I have to take it easy also so I only wind the R1 up to 125 mph during a 30 mile ride. The exhaust is worth every penny in the freer breathing and better sound.
I also try to get out for a bicycle ride. I ride for about an hour and the wrist really doesn't hurt that bad. The rest of Saturday is taken up with mowing the lawn and Dad's birthday.
Saturday night I pick Person J_VKPI up and we head for a club in West Hollywood. It is drizzling and the pavement is very slippery. Because Person J_VKPI is a beginning driver I explain to him ho slippery the pavement is when it first rains and I demonstrate this to him with some fun sideways/wheel-spinning driving. Person J_VKPI has pretty much learned to close his eyes when he's riding with me. The club is a bit slow, but Peter is there and not drinking as much as last week. We eventually leave at 1:45am and I'm asleep by just after 3am on Sunday morning.
At 7am I'm up and out for a wet run. And then it's time to pack for a trip to Las Vegas to meet Person G for the first time.