Bear

Here is my tale of one lucky old school biker. December 13, 2019, yep Friday the 13th, started like any day waking up to haul my ass to the prosthetist to get my leg fixed. When I woke it was the same routine; stretch, creak and popping of old joints. Finally, I leverage myself to a seated position on the side of my bed with my stump dangling. Now here is why I am so lucky. As I was reaching for my liner, I started to have problems gripping the damned thing. When I went to turning it inside out, I noticed my left hand wasn’t cooperating. I finally got it turned inside out to don it, steadily bitching about what the hell is wrong with my damned hand enough to wake up the ole lady. I finally got everything on, and my leg pumped up and fumbled around getting dressed. I had to get the wife’s help to button my shorts. I got to the kitchen for my protein shake. Yep I had been trying for the past year to prevent what the hell was happening by losing weight and getting my BP under control. By that time, I was slurring my words, sans any excessive drinking and dragging my left leg and prosthetic. We live not far from Mayo here in Jacksonville. I will admit I took the long way. I had a prosthetist appointment and by damned I was making it, anyway one look at me and it was “get his ass to the hospital now”. Usually the wife doesn’t go to my appointments with me, but she had better sense than me and knew something wasn’t right. She also called our son who is a paramedic fireman in adjoining Clay County, and as he was getting off shift. He was ahead of us as we were heading to Mayo.

ER went quick; triage and it was announced you’re at the head of the list to be seen. All I will say is Mayo didn’t waste any time or efforts, due to their quick reaction and care I was hooked up, MRI’d, Ultra Sounded where I could see my heart was still beating, and they were popping the medicine for stroke victims. Got my ass reamed verbally by a black lady doctor telling me I would take whatever prescriptions I was given, and she didn’t want to hear my shit. Yep, I am not one who likes to support big pharma, but I heard her loud and clear. I had to stay a few days under their care, but I think I showed them a thing or two about bikers before I was released the following Tuesday afternoon. First, I was informed. Second, I want to thank my many visitors and those who called or checked in on me, the Mayo staff had never seen any one patient have as many visitors as I had at all hours of the day and night. Third was the determination of a biker who refused to accept that a stroke or anything else was going to keep him down. That first night I was still not 100% sure exactly what was wrong other than I had a stroke type event. I’ll tell you I was some shook up, truth is I was waiting for the biggie to hit me, I wouldn’t sleep. I knew my left side was completely paralyzed, but by damn I knew I wasn’t done, not by a long shot. I knew God didn’t save my ass back in 2008 when I lost the leg when a kid in a car drove into the side of Phoenix. I still had too much living to do back then and still do. But brothers and sisters I was scared, I may not have all my parts, but I always had my strength, will, brains and I could string words together. There I laid slurred speech, couldn’t move well, weak, and not knowing what was going to happen next, just that long night of wait and see. So, I laid there and was trying and sweating my tail off trying to move stump, leg, arm, hand fingers, speak clearly, anything.

By the time doctors started showing up with their poking, prodding and not saying much, the Bear was getting his bullheadedness up. Still hadn’t had much confirmed regarding what was what, but I was in full get this show on the road. Little by little I got my hand to unclench, I got that arm to move, and I got the leg to do some moving. Sunday after being visited by rehab people, I was cleared to get out of bed with help. That didn’t last long, I got the IV out and I was making breaks for the hall, bathroom, and finally stumbling laps around the floor. It wasn’t pretty, but by damn this scooter tramp was up and moving. I pissed off one doctor when I stated my main goal was to use my left hand to work the clutch on my bike. Hey, you got to set goals! He popped off something and walked out leaving the other doctor there to explain what had happened to me as per the MRI. Stroke hit me at the brain stem and affected my left side. I wasn’t overly thrilled with the way she was looking, never liked it when doctors look concerned, it leaves you feeling downright uneasy. I do know without a doubt how lucky and blessed I am, this one usually ends much worse off, like kills you. Apparently, that is also where your lungs are controlled along with left side motor skills.

So, by Sunday. Ol’ Bear was walking a lap at a time around the fourth floor ward nurses stations, and I run into the doctors along with the smartass that walked out leaving the other one hanging, and I gave them a “good morning” as I stumbled past. The best part was when they came into my room and I was the stroke victim that came in Friday. You don’t give up, you don’t quit, and you sure don’t let anybody put limitations on what can be done. Now I am not what many would call a real religious person, but I do have a strong belief in God. I know from experience guardian angels ride with us. It also doesn’t hurt if you’re one that happens to have a lot of years of riding experience. Without God, and a streak of stubbornness and perseverance a mile wide, nothing will ever stop you so long as you have a breath in your body and a will to fight for your right to live your life as a biker. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever stop a biker, or old school, or scooter tramps, or even the one percenters so long as they have their belief, their code that we live by, ride by, and eventually we will meet our maker by. But until that day, you bust your butt, you don’t quit, and you sure as hell don’t listen to anyone that tells you that it can’t be done.

So, there I was with Gods help, at the end of the year, 18 days later wanting to do what I always do, New Year’s Day ride, well I didn’t make it. Test ride ended with me getting too slow in a cul-de-sac and I had to set her down. As I said, you don’t give up, you dig deeper and work harder. 38 days after my stroke on 20 January 2020 I rode down to the end of my subdivision and made the circle in the cul-de-sac, success! As my reward for perseverance and to really test myself, I rode the back by-ways from Jacksonville to Beaver Bar in Ormond Beach, and no I didn’t have a celebratory beer. I did discover work that I still need do before I get back out riding with friends and biker family. In the end, my message to all, follow your dream, only quit when your dead, but until then never, ever let any of life’s setback’s define who you are, keep the faith, if in nothing else…in yourself. For the rest remember, God never puts anything before you that he knows you can’t beat.

I will be at Bike Week 2020
Ride Hard, Live Free, Screw It Lets Ride!