accident

This story includes a documentation of events surrounding my accident. While I hope you'll read the whole story, if you insist, you may skip the accident documentary and go straight to the 'what is wrong and what did I do about it' section.
If you've already read this story before, here is a list of updates since this page was origonally posted:
- Update 11/10/97
- Update 1/05/99
- Update 2/16/99

October 15, 1996 10:30pm. I had just gotten back from a microbiology study session and realized that I was pretty hungry and had no food in the apartment. I immediately developed a craving for one of those delicious salisbery steak frozen dinners (a fine delicacy I must say). I grab the keys to the jeep and head out the door; destination, Circle K, three blocks away. Rats! The jeep has a flat tire. How did that happen?! Oh, well, I'll just take the bike. Run back inside, grab a trusty SHOEI helmet from atop the refrigerator, grab a trusty backpack, and grab the key to my trusty FZR600 and I'm back on track. No fancy gear for this little journey; just shorts and a T-shirt.
I pull out of the apartment complex and start on my way. Not even a half block away, there is a small intersection where the next apartment complex has its entranceway/thru street. I see an oncoming car with his left signal on, but it's ok, he's stopping because he sees me....doesn't he? Well, for some reason, he told himself it was all clear just as I reached the intersection. He shot right in front of me as I squeezed the brake lever and thought to myself, "no way out". There is no more motion in this picture, just the freeze-frame image that is burned into my retina which then fades to black.
I wake up looking through a motorcycle helmet which I have no idea why I'm wearing. There is a crowd of people around me, a police officer, and a pile of glass. This is the scariest thing I've ever woken up to, especially since my memory was not currently serving me. But wait...there's one familiar face. It's my next door neighbor. He'll know what's going on. I'll just sit up and start asking questions....Whoa! Aside from the police officer telling me not to try to move, something didn't work there. At this point, I had concluded that I'd been in a motorcycle accident (brilliant deduction, huh?) and that I had enough to take in right now without trying to figure out what kind of injuries I'd sustained.
The paramedics are here now. They're cutting off all my clothes and someone (I believe it was the police officer) is asking me questions that I know I should be able to answer:

"What's your name?"
"Dave." (got one!)
"How old are you?"
"Um. I don't know." (that worries me a bit)
"What day is this?"
"I don't know." (darn! gotta get the next one)
"What month is it?"
"Um. N-November?" (close)
"Have you had any alcohol this evening?"
"No." (This was true, but, of course, I didn't really know.)
etc.

I guess I lost consciousness again because all the sudden I was in the ambulance strapped to a spine board. Then again and I was being rolled into the ER. By this time, I'm feeling all that pain that my body had been saving up for me. Most of the pain seemed to be channeled in my right arm, which hurt so badly all up and down it that I couldn't tell if it was even there (does that make sense?). I hadn't made much of an attempt to see what the rest of me looked like other than a glimpse of my knees at the scene, one of which didn't look so good. Now I had no choice but to wait for them to tell me because I'd remain strapped to that spine board for the next six hours. Consciousness became a rarity as I can remember a clock within sight that seemed to me to skip hours at a time... 11:30... 12:45... 3:15... 5:30. All through the night I was either surrounded by doctors and nurses or completely alone. I don't remember everything due to a lack of awareness, but there are a few things that stand out. I remember getting lots of stitches in various places from the neck down to my feet. I remember having my right knee filled like a water balloon with a saline solution. And I remember the catheter, which I'd rather forget (I don't know if you know what this is or where it goes, but let's just say of all the pain I had to endure, the catheter was the only thing that actually made me scream).
First the good news. Remember that salisbery steak meal that I set out for? Well, when I woke up the next day, the hospital was serving a salisbery steak meal that was almost as delicious as those fine frozen platters I love so much (it's good to reach your goal, huh).
The not so good news. Fractured patella (knee), lot's of bruises and lacerations, and enough pain from head to foot to last a good couple of months. These injuries healed rather nicely. The knee doesn't seem to give me any trouble, the scarring isn't too bad considering, and the back and neck pain ceased after a few months.
The really bad news. Now let's get back to that right arm. X-rays show no fractures, but the arm is completely useless. Lots of testing, MRI's, and CT scans reveal some severe nerve damage. Will I ever use my arm again? It didn't look good, but it took a couple of months of observation and testing to be more certain. Basically, all the nerves that control the arm were yanked out of the spinal cord from the roots. Unless some amazing breakthrough technique is developed, there's no way to reattach those. Time to become left-handed.

So, my right arm is paralyzed. Does that mean I have to give up riding motorcycles? If I answered 'yes' this whole story would be rather pointless wouldn't it. The correct answer..."Hell, no, I'm not giving that up!" Aside from some of my incredibly supportive friends and family members (they know who they are), there were a lot of people who were shocked that I was planning to ride again. Some of these people are great friends, too, and they care a lot about me, but they just don't understand what motorcycling means to me. For those who don't understand, I would like to me and FZR in N. Carolina explain what I feel when I look at this picture of me on my FZR600, which wouldn't survive the crucial accident two months later. This picture was taken in August 1996 by my good friend, Mike, while on a motorcycle vacation in North Carolina where the straight roads are extinct, the twisties have taken over the back roads, and the sweepers rule the highways. Under that helmet is my face as happy as it gets. When I look at that picture, I let it take me back. I get a gleam in my eye and a warm feeling in my heart and I can honestly say, nothing else I do can make me feel that way. Some people think I don't realize how lucky I am to be alive or think I've learned nothing from this accident. Well, I do realize how lucky I am to be alive and that's why I'll act alive. And I have learned a valuable lesson; that life is too short to give up what you love.
So, I was shopping for a new bike before the dust settled. That's when I met my 400 Bandit. Bandit I bought this beauty quite a while before I was recovered enough to ride. Hell, I had just gotten my knee brace off and it was at least two more months before it would bend all the way again. In the meantime, I used my spare time taking the bike apart in my apartment, Bandit gutted cleaning it, rebuilding the carburetors, etc. Then my well trusted friend, John, borrowed the bike for a while and it received a thorough testing, while I received a reputable review of my bike's performance. Apparently, my bike was very impressive and it was time I got around to making my modifications so that I could see for myself.
The first thing I did was move the throttle over to the left handle bar. This was not very difficult. Just a little salvage yard hunting to find a throttle and guide assembly that would suit my needs and a little bit of engineering. Now, I had my throttle and clutch on my left hand, so technically, I could ride. Should I complete the necessary brake modifications before I ride? Of course! Did I? No. I was a little eager to see how it would feel to be back in the saddle again, so that's what I did. I waited until it was pretty late at night so that there would be no traffic to contend with, considering I only had a rear brake to stop with and I was about to do something I'd never tried before. I pushed the bike out, started it up, slipped on a primitive, home made elbow brace (later replaced by a more appropriate device), and clamped my hand splint onto the right handle bar. Now, I must confess, at this point, my heart was pounding so hard and so fast, I think you could've seen it through my leather jacket. Yes, as confident as I had been all these months, I was now quite scared. How is this going to feel? Am I sure I can control this creature without use or feeling of my right arm? I had waited patiently for about five months to ride again, so I was going to find out the answers to these questions now even if it killed me (figure of speech, of course). Well, no more than 50 yards away was a little S-turn in the apartment driveway, so if I didn't have control by then, I'd be in the bushes. One nice, calming, deep breath and I slowly disengaged the clutch and even slowlier (it's my own word) fed it a little throttle. As I started to roll forward, I made the immediate decision that I had to make this feel natural if I'm going to make that turn. So, I began to accelerate and then made my first shift to second. A little jumpy on the shift, but no time to worry about that...here's the S-turn. Whew! No problem. Now I felt a huge weight off my shoulders. I knew then that I wasn't making a mistake. I had plenty to get used to, but I knew that it was doable (to my surprise, 'doable' is a real word). I took a few laps around my apartment complex and then expanded to lapping the nearby neighborhood for about 30 minutes. I worked on smoothing out my throttling and my shifting, and increased my turning speeds until I felt pretty confident in myself. Not confident enough to leave the neighborhood, yet. I pulled the bike back in for the night feeling that I had just accomplished my most important milestone in my recovery. It actually felt pretty natural once I got relaxed. My control was not nearly the problem I thought it might be. The only thing I needed to work on was my left hand throttle coordination. The very next night, I went out (no traffic again), left the neighborhood, and rode for about 30 miles (with only a rear brake, this is certainly not advisable, but...). I went out once or twice more before getting around to starting my brake work, but it sure felt good be able to ride again.
Me and my friends talked over a few options on what braking system to use. I decided to go with a rear master cylinder to front caliper system, and a front master cylinder to rear caliper system. This would require a front m/c that could be relocated on the left side, so that a spare finger or so could operate the rear brake if needed. The rear m/c to front caliper is pretty straight forward, although, reboring may be necessary to optimize braking performance. More technical information on braking will be posted soon as braking modifications are still being perfected.

In closing, I want to add that if I were not wearing my trusty SHOEI helmet, I would not be alive to continue riding. Ride hard, but within your limits, and, please, wear a helmet.

I am always open to suggestions and comments and I would be glad to give advise or assistance to anyone who seeks it ().

All modification parts were recovered from the salvage yard of my favorite shop, RTM Motorcycles.

Update 11/10/1997. I have been "back in the saddle" for about 5 months now and my riding ability is always improving. In fact, I plan to get my road racing license some time next season. When this happens, I'll definately post another update. As for the technical update on the braking system, I ran a steel braided line directly from rear mastercylander (foot operated) to front braking system and it worked great without further modification. I am using a thumb operated racing mastercylander from Grave's Motorsports to operate the rear brake. This was difficult to get my hands on at the time, but now you can find advertisements for them in motorcycle magazines everywhere.

Update 1/05/1999. I am now preparing to race a full season for Championship Cup Series, Florida region. My first race of the season is January 30-31 at Roebling Road, GA (actually a southeast region race, but...). If your there, feel free to stop by. The Bandit looks very different now, but I'll post a photo as soon as I can. I'll also post my CCS # as soon as I get it. I'll try to post race results/reports as soon afterward each race as possible.

Update 2/16/99. Well, my CCS # is 241 (like the beer special!). I now have two race weekends under my belt! I've raced Lightweight Superbike and Lightweight Supersport at both Roebling Road Raceway on January 31 and at Homestead Motorsports Complex on February 14. I'm going to set up a results page to post all my finishes directly following race weekends and hopefully I can find time to post some great race reports, too. For now, here are the results from my two weekends:

Roebling:
Lightweight SB 16th out of 16 (hey! it was raining!)
Lightweight SS 11th out of 12 (I beat someone!)

Homestead:
Lightweight SB 7th out of 12 (I'm starting to race, here)
Lightweight SS 3rd out of 10 (First podium finish!)

Now that I've worked my way up to what I have probably held as my optimum goal ever since the accident two and a half years ago, I am officially declaring this story over. All subsequent race updates will be accessed from Stories page under race results or race reports. Time to put the past behind and go full throttle into the future. I'm gearing up now for Daytona International Speedway on February 27-29. Thanks for sticking it out through my story!
- Dave

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