If you live long enough events happen that can turn into disaster in an instant. September 10th turned into one of those days for me. Early that morning I left home heading to a cycling event. As soon as I got onto GA 400 my dash lights began dimming and my car lost power and stalled in the right lane. I couldn't even turn on hazard lights because the battery was totally dead. Fortunately another motorist pulled in behind me and turned on his hazard lights. He figured my alternator died and I had been running only on battery power which seemed likely to me. I had already called 511 to send a HERO unit and the motorist had a reflective vest and emergency hand held light to warn approaching traffic. Certainly some nervous moments until a police officer arrived.
He called to dispatch a tow truck and as the other motorist left the officer was able to push my car out of the traffic lane into the gore between the right lane and an exit ramp which led to an interstate. I breathed a sigh of relief as it looked like we could tow the car to Dekalb Tire who would open shortly. They had serviced my car many times, and I figured they could replace the alternator and I could then get on with my day. If the repair turned out to be more complicated I would simply ride my bike home and wait out whatever needed to be done. The tow truck arrived and the police officer received another call and had to leave. I later found out that at this time of morning (5:30) Sandy Springs only has two patrol cars on the road as they are going through a shift change. The tow truck driver was concerned about the officer leaving, but I figured we would quickly load my car and be on our way.
The tow truck operator raised the ramp, hooked up my car and instructed me to get in the car release brake, put in neutral and make sure front wheels were straight. I did all those maneuvers and my car was pulled up onto the ramp. The tow truck driver then told me to put the car into park and get out. I did that, opened the door and as I stepped out onto the ramp, I looked back to see headlights aimed at me coming at a high speed. I think I jumped off the ramp just as the approaching car drove up the tow truck ramp and slammed into my car. I landed in the right lane doing one of my better rolls, and faster than I had most likely ever moved in my life rolled back out of the lane. Fortunately no other car was right there in that lane then or I wouldn't be writing this. A few seconds later a motorist did pull up beside me to see if I was OK. I said I was, but asked her to stay there for just a second. She did and I reached under her car to retrieve my hat.
The tow truck driver called 911 and within minutes several police cars and emergency units were on the scene. The other driver got out of his car, phone in hand. I asked if he was OK and he muttered something about needing dialysis, sat down on a curb and began texting. A witness circled back and when interviewed by officers said he thought the other driver was texting just before impact. It made sense to me since the tow truck and my car were out of both the right lane and the exit ramp. The other driver and tow truck driver ended up going to the hospital probably just as a precaution although I figure the police wanted to check out that driver pretty carefully. The police officer who had initially responded had returned and I managed to hitch a courtesy ride back home from him. He had left to respond to a call from Northside Hospital. When he heard the dispatch about a collision at exit 4-A involving a tow truck he returned ASAP along with what seemed too be 3-5 other officers. Guess the shift change had occurred and our incident was the top story.
I spent the rest of the morning dealing with the aftermath. Trying to find a rental car on Saturday without a prior reservation took all morning and trips to two Hertz locations. Turning in a claim to my insurance company retrieving stuff from my car, and beginning the process of shopping for a another car took up the rest of my day. But in hindsight I was very, very fortunate. If I had still been in my car upon impact or if another car was passing in the right lane who knows what would have happened to me. I've had lots of encounters that could have been deadly but not since I was in junior high and wound up underneath a car after a bike/car collision had I come within inches or seconds of death. If the ramp had been lowered I don't think the other driver would have survived.
Monday, September 12, 2016
Sunday, June 05, 2016
Muhammid Ali and Me
Muhammad Ali's passing reminded me of my two encounters with him. OK, the first wasn't an encounter but it was significant for me. As the second fight between Ali and Sonny Liston approached our freshman dorm at the University of Richmond formed a pool to see who would win along with the round. 30 of us each put up $10 and then we drew a name/number. In 1965 $10 was a shitload of money--at least for me--so imagine my enthusiasm when I drew Ali in round one. Well, as it turned out Ali knocked Liston down in the first round and even though the referee didn't start the count until Ali went to a neutral corner (remember the photo of Ali standing over Liston by Neil Leifer) Liston never got up and was counted out. 29 freshman started screaming that it was a fix and the pool should be disbanded with refunds to everyone, I was not to be denied. $300 was more cash than I had ever had in my life in 1965 and as I pocketed the money pointed out we had bet on the winner and ending round so whether it was fixed or not was irrelevant. To this day that outcome is still debated among boxing historians and fans.
My actual encounter occurred in 1970 right after the Supreme Court overturned Ali's conviction for refusing the draft on religious grounds. I was at the Atlanta airport on my way out of town and Ali had just come to Atlanta to fight Jerry Quarry. In 1970 the old airport had solid bathroom doors that swung inward. I pushed the door open and it whacked a man in the head who was standing just inside. It whacked him pretty hard and I immediately apologized. The man turned and said "It's my fault for stopping, I'm OK." I walked on by but noticed several guys standing in front of him; I was amazed at how big he was--he was huge. It looked like he was signing autographs for them. I kept glancing and thinking he looks like Muhammad Ali, but then surmised it can't be--that guy is HUGE. I went outside and hopped up on the shoe shine stand, and within a few minutes Ali emerged and sat down on the stand beside me. He was impeccably dressed in a black suit, white shirt and tie. I noticed the stand was now surrounded by several black men also impeccably dressed; one of them handed him something and said, "Here's your ticket, Ali." I again apologized for hitting him and he again brushed it off very cordially. I then asked him how he felt about the Supreme Court's verdict and he mentioned his faith in Allah had helped him through it all.
That was it. We parted ways and I was amazed by how cordial, friendly and seemingly humble/normal he was. In the meantime I probably became the only person to hit Muhammad Ali hard in the head and not get hit back. The one thing I will always remember about Ali was his absolute fearlessness. Inside the ring he stood up to the likes of Liston, Fraizer and Foreman all of whom looked like they could destroy him. Outside the ring he stood up against segregation and racism, His religious beliefs and opposition to the Vietnam War at great personal costs and no doubt risks.
Godspeed, Muhammad Ali.
My actual encounter occurred in 1970 right after the Supreme Court overturned Ali's conviction for refusing the draft on religious grounds. I was at the Atlanta airport on my way out of town and Ali had just come to Atlanta to fight Jerry Quarry. In 1970 the old airport had solid bathroom doors that swung inward. I pushed the door open and it whacked a man in the head who was standing just inside. It whacked him pretty hard and I immediately apologized. The man turned and said "It's my fault for stopping, I'm OK." I walked on by but noticed several guys standing in front of him; I was amazed at how big he was--he was huge. It looked like he was signing autographs for them. I kept glancing and thinking he looks like Muhammad Ali, but then surmised it can't be--that guy is HUGE. I went outside and hopped up on the shoe shine stand, and within a few minutes Ali emerged and sat down on the stand beside me. He was impeccably dressed in a black suit, white shirt and tie. I noticed the stand was now surrounded by several black men also impeccably dressed; one of them handed him something and said, "Here's your ticket, Ali." I again apologized for hitting him and he again brushed it off very cordially. I then asked him how he felt about the Supreme Court's verdict and he mentioned his faith in Allah had helped him through it all.
That was it. We parted ways and I was amazed by how cordial, friendly and seemingly humble/normal he was. In the meantime I probably became the only person to hit Muhammad Ali hard in the head and not get hit back. The one thing I will always remember about Ali was his absolute fearlessness. Inside the ring he stood up to the likes of Liston, Fraizer and Foreman all of whom looked like they could destroy him. Outside the ring he stood up against segregation and racism, His religious beliefs and opposition to the Vietnam War at great personal costs and no doubt risks.
Godspeed, Muhammad Ali.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
What Goes Around Comes Around
As I reflect on my 70th birthday I am reminded how often life is a circular journey. Many times I have traveled down a path only to find myself in that same place years later. For instance almost 34 years ago I came to Atlanta and worked in a Chubb office at Piedmont Center, building 3. Now I am working part time for one of Chubb's largest agencies and I'm once again at Piedmont Center, Building 3. I grew up in Danville, VA and left there in the late 1960's. Lost track of almost everyone I knew back then. Now thanks to Facebook I am connected to many childhood and high school friends I've manged to return there several times over the past few years to attend 2 high school reunions and during the one in 2014 connect with my brother to ride bikes over many of the streets we road on years ago. I am currently back in college working on a BS in exercise science with a minor in gerontology, 47 years after earning a BA in economics. Being in school after so many years is different in many respects. The course work seems easier, I suppose because I am taking courses that interest me without having to take all the core stuff I took years ago. Age and experience also make the work seem easier. One difference is it's harder for me to memorize stuff the way I use to do in order to get through course work. Another difference is I can attend tuition free thanks to being so old and can take as many or as few classes as I want each semester. That's a huge change from when I was at the University of Richmond in the 1960's trying to get done before the money ran out.
One of the most rewarding circular experiences was reconnecting with my first true love after not being in touch for over 35 years. For about 18 months I was on cloud nine until my drinking caused that relationship to fall apart. Looking back on that it was a blessing because it got me sober after a 50 year drinking career. It's too bad I wasn't smart enough to figure that out earlier. Reflecting on that gets me wondering how many opportunities I let slip by either because of my drinking or simply not paying enough attention at the time. I remember a blind date I had back in college. Her name was Page Taylor and she seemed like the nicest person I ever met. She was certainly the most attractive blind date I ever had. However, I blew it one night by picking her up for a fraternity party completely wasted. That date lasted about 30 minutes and I never saw her again. I still remember how embarrassed I was when I called to apologize; she was cordial enough but the damage was done and irreparable at the time.
There are many other situations where I either did--or did not--take action or inaction that ended relationships and friendships In some cases I had all the right in the world to be pissed off. But now as I reflect on a 70 year life span, I wonder if those people passed by me again, would I be able to either make amends or forgive? In almost every case I would welcome the opportunity to try
One of the most rewarding circular experiences was reconnecting with my first true love after not being in touch for over 35 years. For about 18 months I was on cloud nine until my drinking caused that relationship to fall apart. Looking back on that it was a blessing because it got me sober after a 50 year drinking career. It's too bad I wasn't smart enough to figure that out earlier. Reflecting on that gets me wondering how many opportunities I let slip by either because of my drinking or simply not paying enough attention at the time. I remember a blind date I had back in college. Her name was Page Taylor and she seemed like the nicest person I ever met. She was certainly the most attractive blind date I ever had. However, I blew it one night by picking her up for a fraternity party completely wasted. That date lasted about 30 minutes and I never saw her again. I still remember how embarrassed I was when I called to apologize; she was cordial enough but the damage was done and irreparable at the time.
There are many other situations where I either did--or did not--take action or inaction that ended relationships and friendships In some cases I had all the right in the world to be pissed off. But now as I reflect on a 70 year life span, I wonder if those people passed by me again, would I be able to either make amends or forgive? In almost every case I would welcome the opportunity to try
Saturday, January 02, 2016
Othopedic Surgery # 15
Little did I know that 2 weeks after hip replacement I would be back in Northside Hospital for another procedure. Basically a few days after my initial surgery my replacement incision began draining. No big deal at first other than changing dressings several times a day. However, when it continued the doctor saw me and recommended a possible irrigation and debridement procedure; it's the type stuff done to aggressively clean out wounds kinda like what they do when you have severe road rash (which despite all my cycling and occasional crashes I've never experienced). I was scheduled to report to Northside on Thursday morning where the doctor would examine again and decide whether the procedure was needed. Theoretically I could be out in less than an hour if not needed and maybe 2-3 hours if needed. After all aggressively cleaning out a wound shouldn't take to long I thought.
I should have known that "scheduling a surgical procedure" almost always takes a lot longer. Once I'm in a pre-op waiting room the doctor looks at my incision and says we need to "nip this in the bud and move forward." I say OK let's get it done. So then I get the best versus the worst scenarios. Best case: whatever's going on is just on the surface, we clean it out, surgery is over in few minutes, but you'll have to stay overnight until culture samples grow and can be analyzed so we can treat with appropriate antibiotics. Worst case: whatever's going on is deeper and we'll need to replace some parts. Surgery will take longer and you'll stay overnight. I've been through enough surgeries to know that infections especially deep in a joint can turn into a massive long time problem so I didn't debate just signed a bunch of paperwork.
When you wake up in recovery it's hard--at least for me--to get a sense of time. Even when they told me I couldn't remember. Likewise when I asked exactly what they ended up doing about all I heard was "it was a little deeper than normal." The surgeon will go over that with you later. When I wound up in a regular room around 5:30 I figured out they most likely did more than an irrigation & debridement. Also the fact they would not let me out of bed was different from the prior surgery. There was virtually no pain which made me think I must be on something really strong, but turned out to be Tylenol.
Friday morning the doctor visited and let me know they did go into the joint and replaced a portion since there seemed to be something going on well below surface. I'm no othro doctor and can't tell you exactly what he did,but I believe what was done is the best course of action to get me up and about and prevent long term issues. The main reason I'm still in the hospital is waiting for culture results which sometime take longer a day to develop. They have installed a PICC line (central catheter line) in my right upper arm which will be used to deliver antibiotics on a daily basis for 6 weeks. I can most likely be taught how to do this myself so I don't have to go to an infusion center every day. So as of Friday night I have 2 IVs and a Davol closed wound suction evacuator device draining excess fluid from my right thigh. This is how a computer must feel like with input and output devices plugged in, but computers don't have someone coming in constantly monitoring things and also checking vital signs, almost always just after I've manged to fall asleep.
So after a very restless Friday night I wound up feeling pretty dismal about the prospects of possibly spending the weekend waiting for cultures to develop. However, the infectious disease specialist came by to let me know the cultures had not developed any sign of a specific infection which is not so good because it leaves things ambiguous as to what infection I have. However, the good news is they will treat me with an antibiotic called rocephin which should work fine over the course of time. The best news was assuming they could give me the first dose today and arrange for out patient infusions on Sunday and Monday I could go home today. By 2:00 I am getting my infusion, the out patient infusion center is open Sunday and Monday so I should be home by the end of the day All that has to be done now is the discharge paperwork which will probably take longer than surgery. I don't mind; it's like the last few miles of an ultra long ride--the end is near.
I should have known that "scheduling a surgical procedure" almost always takes a lot longer. Once I'm in a pre-op waiting room the doctor looks at my incision and says we need to "nip this in the bud and move forward." I say OK let's get it done. So then I get the best versus the worst scenarios. Best case: whatever's going on is just on the surface, we clean it out, surgery is over in few minutes, but you'll have to stay overnight until culture samples grow and can be analyzed so we can treat with appropriate antibiotics. Worst case: whatever's going on is deeper and we'll need to replace some parts. Surgery will take longer and you'll stay overnight. I've been through enough surgeries to know that infections especially deep in a joint can turn into a massive long time problem so I didn't debate just signed a bunch of paperwork.
When you wake up in recovery it's hard--at least for me--to get a sense of time. Even when they told me I couldn't remember. Likewise when I asked exactly what they ended up doing about all I heard was "it was a little deeper than normal." The surgeon will go over that with you later. When I wound up in a regular room around 5:30 I figured out they most likely did more than an irrigation & debridement. Also the fact they would not let me out of bed was different from the prior surgery. There was virtually no pain which made me think I must be on something really strong, but turned out to be Tylenol.
Friday morning the doctor visited and let me know they did go into the joint and replaced a portion since there seemed to be something going on well below surface. I'm no othro doctor and can't tell you exactly what he did,but I believe what was done is the best course of action to get me up and about and prevent long term issues. The main reason I'm still in the hospital is waiting for culture results which sometime take longer a day to develop. They have installed a PICC line (central catheter line) in my right upper arm which will be used to deliver antibiotics on a daily basis for 6 weeks. I can most likely be taught how to do this myself so I don't have to go to an infusion center every day. So as of Friday night I have 2 IVs and a Davol closed wound suction evacuator device draining excess fluid from my right thigh. This is how a computer must feel like with input and output devices plugged in, but computers don't have someone coming in constantly monitoring things and also checking vital signs, almost always just after I've manged to fall asleep.
So after a very restless Friday night I wound up feeling pretty dismal about the prospects of possibly spending the weekend waiting for cultures to develop. However, the infectious disease specialist came by to let me know the cultures had not developed any sign of a specific infection which is not so good because it leaves things ambiguous as to what infection I have. However, the good news is they will treat me with an antibiotic called rocephin which should work fine over the course of time. The best news was assuming they could give me the first dose today and arrange for out patient infusions on Sunday and Monday I could go home today. By 2:00 I am getting my infusion, the out patient infusion center is open Sunday and Monday so I should be home by the end of the day All that has to be done now is the discharge paperwork which will probably take longer than surgery. I don't mind; it's like the last few miles of an ultra long ride--the end is near.
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