The Fall -- Aftermath

I can't end this story without mentioning our Bike Trail Good Samaritan, Frank.  Jan and I stopped Frank to ask him the name of the access road we were on so Jan could find it in the car.  Frank did far better than supply the name. He stopped his ride, checked me over for signs of a concussion, etc., and insisted on staying with me while Jan fetched the car.  At the time, I thought this was unnecessary, but it's clear to me now that I wouldn't have done that well left on my own with the post-accident adrenaline coursing through my system.  There's every chance I'd have freaked out -- or passed out -- without Frank chatting away about bikes, jobs and coyotes.  Thank you, Frank. 

Now for the damages.  We went straight to my doctor's office and from there to the x-ray lab.  There, the looks on the faces of the techs told me our medical visits weren't over for the day.  Both our techs were too professional to diagnose for me, but when they stare at the monitor somberly, point at it and then look at each other, you know there's something there.  If I needed another clue, it came when one of the techs suggested we take the x-rays with us "in case" my doctor wanted me to see a specialist "right away."

After a little prodding, that's exactly what happened.  I was squeezed onto the schedule of an orthopedic specialist who told me I'd joined the legions of cyclists who have broken a clavicle.  Treatment consists of wearing a splint and waiting about 8 weeks for the bone to knit itself back together.  No surgery, no complicated harnesses and no special postures or regimens.  Just get used to left-handed life and be patient.


 
Six days later, I've regained a great deal of mobility in my right shoulder.  There are plenty of things I can't do -- mostly involving moving my elbow too far from my ribs -- but an increasing number of things I can.  And, I'm getting very good at brushing my teeth, shaving and eating as a lefty.

But enough about me.  How, you ask, did the bike come through all this?

Not good, it turns out.  In the immediate aftermath, I was convinced my front wheel had merely turned 180 degrees (or 360) and become jammed under the frame.  Now, it's clear that I bent the forks to a ridiculous degree. 

Here's a "before" photo:

And here's an after:

Hmmm...  something's different here, but what?

Jan's taking "Obi" to my LBS friends tomorrow.  I'm afraid they may look at it solemnly, point at the forks and then look at each other... like the x-ray techs did.