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“
that nurse is trying to kill me
“
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escape
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“
some of us are decent people who want to stay out of the emergency room, but still blast through neo-gridlock traffic… for that we need fine machinery …
when the ducati turned up in my driveway, nobody knew what to do with it.. my lawyer said i should give myself up and enroll in the federal witness protection program …
the motorcycle business was the last straw. it had to be the work of my enemies, or people who wanted to hurt me. it was the vilest kind of bait, and they knew i would go for it.
”
dr hunter s thompson
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she’s so fine there’s no telling where the money went
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my hospital bed is upside on top of me
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they grabbed him by the stack & swivel
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“
my brother jay had been in an accident while racing on a motorcyle track, somewhere in west virginia. he was unconscious and in critical condition in a local hospital, and they were planning on transporting him to the level one “shock trauma” hospital in baltimore the next morning.
we drove through the night from new york city, and finally got to the hospital around 5 am. this is when we learned the extent of his injuries. the good news was there was no head or spinal injury, and there was no skin injury because jay was wearing his racing leathers. the bad news, though, was he had two broken shoulders (one shattered), a punctured lung, and “probably most” of his ribs were broken.
and his condition was deteriorating under the multiple trauma, so he “crashed” during the night. he stopped breathing and doctors couldn’t get his oxygen levels back up. they gave him an emergency chest tube and put him on a ventilator, which saved his life — and stabilized him enough to be driven to shock trauma. the family followed the ambulance in a small convoy of vehicles, in a surreal sunday morning drive through the beautiful virginia countryside.
jay ended up being in shock trauma for two weeks. he crashed one more time when his other lung collapsed, and it didn’t look so good for a while there.
”
jonathan mark davis, msci
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“
they had to perform heroics twice . . . you were on a ventilator, no ventilator, no life . . . you made that promise to your mother . . . she was smart to extract it while you were sedated
”
guiseppe o’bruno
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wish my back would let me be, just let me lie still
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took a tree trunk to the head
guy to the right, gutshot . . .
guy to the left, shot gutshot guy . . .
2 doors down … cut in half by 2 trash trucks
shock-trauma baltimore city
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|
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“
can we cut your leathers off?
”
emt, summit point raceway, west virginia
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quartered like a november deer
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“ if it was just you driving like a mad man and pushing the limit and taking the chance (again) of biting the big one; well hell, that’s life as usually…. but some of those people in your life, despite the strong outer appearance, would be screwed up with another go around like this.
”
guiseppe labruno, cpt, msci, mba, professor of military science
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no flashing-life
no tunnel of light
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you ever see lonesome dove?
robert duvall and tommy lee jones as former texas rangers, tried to settle down in lonesome dove, couldn’t do it, took off for montana with their cattle, some others’ cattle and their 2 pigs.
well, down in the man-cave, it was them, me, mssrs oxy & contin, bag o’ peas, ms brasil’s ring on a chain, the family dog and my upper body.
mssrs duvall and jones did their own stunts. he broke the hell-bitch. they crashed real horses into the real nueces river. they dodged the water moccasins.
we signed up for summit school of the shenandoah. we did our own stunts.
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egress
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· the radii for turn 1:
110′, 170′, 550′
· the radius of turn 2:
460′
· the radius of the unnumbered kink betweens turns 2 and 3:
1780′
· the radius of turn:
235′
· the radius of the first unnumbered kink after turn 3:
660′
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he’s a self-absorbed lad
|
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why did we leave lonesome dove?
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enlivenment
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what do you want legs for anyway? you don’t like to do nothing but sit on the porch and drink whiskey!
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· 1:30
· 1:24
· 1:17
· 1:16
transponder
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left shoulder hysterical and useless
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“
… i helped her out of a jam i guess … but i must have used a little too much force.
”
b dylan, blood on the tracks
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after the early days of pain sweats
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· pneumothorax, ventilator, chest tube · broken right clavicle
· shattered right scapula
· 7x broken ribs & punctured lung
· crash cart, intubation
winchester shock trauma
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bicycle built for two
|
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· orif steel plate in left shoulder · $65,376
· 11 days
university of maryland shock trauma, bmd
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ha!
i’d like to meet his tailor
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three weeks out from lonesome dove; sounds like a damn wilderness if you ask me. and we’re a shade old to start fightin’ indians all over again
i looked over, said “does this help you understand why we do this?”
“yes.”
ma, me
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she carried buckets of decision water
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i didn’t see no line gus. i was just trying to get through the territory without getting scalped, that’s all. jake spoon
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confidently piloting a motorcycle around the track
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went to see her yesterday. she was tied to her hitching post, cud-chewing all non-chalant and all; looked sideways at me |
made a good bike do a bad thing
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“ all the muscles, tendons, ligaments attach to that part o the humerus
”
sabrina
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thank you for not being all chicken-soup-for-the-xxx-soul
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“ … looks like a pile o pick-em-up sticks
”
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i tried to stand, fell over on my side
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“ your insurance doesn’t kick in until day 61
”
state farm real-live-human
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i have seen the moment of my greatness flicker
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no skin grafts, still got fingers, toes and teeth
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my life as a pop-tart
this little piggy
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yer right about ma. still hasn’t made up her mind
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adhesions
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days 12 à 40: every 3 hour mark, the pain sweats, turn on the fans, the soaked t-shirts, the waiting for the 3 ½ hour mark and its next promised oxycodone … the stabbing effort of rolling out of bed w ribs in best knot possible … of trying to wipe my ass w the pre-arranged shite paper … for the l shoulder hysterical and useless[1] … the r shoulder just a capsule of broken-glass pain, fingers doing the walking down my r buttock, the arm unsure of its place in time and space … trying to shit out the rabbit turds that the oxy* give you, so abso no satisfying, but the medicines’ mustard-metal stink of dirty diaper constantly up my nose and the perilous pulling-up of pajamas while rising from the one-holer
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this is not cancer survival
 |
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is every ride a suicide? |
lives of quiet desperation
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“ … when i walk into a public restroom and hear crippled men whispering about the terrifying kawasaki triple… i have visions of compound femur-fractures and large black men in white hospital suits holding me down on a gurney while a nurse called “bess” sews the flaps of my scalp together with a stitching drill …
being shot out of a cannon …
not everybody who buys a high-dollar torque-brute yearns to go out in a ball of fire on a public street in l.a. …
unless you’re ready to go straight down the centerline with your nuts on fire and a silent scream in your throat …
when we ride very fast motorcycles, we ride with immaculate sanity
”
dr hst, ssc
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we take a manageable endeavor to its falling-off cliff-edge
|
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“ she’s philosophical … but she doesn’t watch anymore
”
mike, of robin at spr
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charlie don’t surf
|
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1st visit by my daughter where i could drive us |
|
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why do we leave lonesome dove? |
back to the scene of the crime
|
|
this behavior not sanctioned by national need |
airborne ranger
|
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parents to bury a child
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13 years like walt whitman
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max preload
pressure to 30#
front/rear
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bessie got one o her eyes put out when she let her backbone slip
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this must never happen again, i can’t do this another time
ma
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pass with authority
|
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“the deadbeat club”
f schneider
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next time you’re on your own
|
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“nothing lasts” m sweet
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severe concussion
|
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“ it wasn’t the same w ray … it wasn’t a first child
”
mother of my daughter
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do versus be?
|
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e-c-n-a-l-u-b-m-a |
i failed to dodge the water moccasin
|
|
¿
the search for the edge of pain
?
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i lost my dog in an 18 mos fever o bad dreams and rshp meltdowns and job disasters, churning under my resume w a rented tiller
|
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sunning one’s lizard self on the deck … burn in the sutures
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mad max helmet no longer sea-worthy
|
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· walking without steadying
· non-rabbit turds
· ex the oxy*
· reaching overhead
· opening the dishwasher
· wiping my ass
· shave
· reach for seatbelt, close the car door
· sit in a restaurant
· put on a t-shirt
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and i have seen the eternal footman hold my coat
|
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brother 1 bet the family farm |
which one’s the good son?
|
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3y ex post facto . . . penniless w 3 concussions under my belt and 11 arthritis seeds fingered into the soil |
good times
|
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smokey twitching & hovering outside the waiting room … big black mother called into the chapel … wailing … won’t it ever stop? |
fuck,
i don’t have any of my oxycontin
|
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me and the turds on the urine-soaked deck |
lacking advance directives
|
|
brother 2 red bull & vodka at the halloween parade |
choose yer poison
|
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¿ what it would take to git back on the track
?
|
9% rain-soaked grade
|
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¿ and why not killed that day on the track
?
|
keeloids stiff every morning
|
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big deal of the day, washed my hair
|
daring young man on the flying trapeze
|
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that summer 2006 i rode bessie lane-splittingly down 295
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i think i need to lie down
|
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grocery shopped for the first time in 6 months |
he broke his upper body
|
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back on the horse, an r6 at a buck-thirty |
didn’t vomit
|
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damaged child w/o advanced directives
|
never did take my dog to walter reed
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the salvage company came by to pick up big boned bessie
they paid the storage fee but……there are still 2 outstanding estimates, 1 complete and the other road worthy.
the road worthy one is your responsibility and the other should be covered by insurance.
give your adjuster a call so that we can finalize this.
|
this aint no disco, this aint no party
|
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ah yes, the joy of being a rider when surrounded by those that are convinced you are out of your mind. recent injury only reinforces their perspective. i feel your pain
david
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no temper tantrums, no lovey-dovey
|
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headshrinker …
counter-conditioning or
other corrective shoes
|
i do not fear death i will however, do all possible to avoid death prematurely. fear is the enemy, not death, fear on the road leads to death, therefore i will not let fear be my master, i will master it.
|
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a ventilator tube takes a little persuasion to git to where it’s goin’
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no more mister glee club
|
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don’t run the over-sized tires, 180s on those 5″ rims |
like a bird without a beak
|
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swings a leg over a motorcycle to compete in anger is dancing with fate fred
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you saw brigadoon
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clara allen: sometimes it seems like grave digging is all we do around here, don’t it cholo? what do you think happens when we die? cholo: not much. you are just dead.
clara allen: maybe it’s not as big a change as we think. maybe you just go back to where you lived or near your family, or wherever you were the happiest. only you’re just a spirit now… and you don’t have the troubles the living have.
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stay on the gas until you see god
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hell, boys. i’d damn sight rather be hung by my friends
jake spoon
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there was a setback
|
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i loved augustus mcrae, but i wasn’t willing to share him with you every time you decided to ride off on some adventure. i despised you for what you were then, captain call; and i despise you for what you’re doing!
clara allen
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[1] T Yorke, Radiohead