Impacts of Diabetes
One of the things that I most enjoy, is a good motorcycle ride. Since I was young, bikes were cool! Dad had several, my uncles had them, my friends had them. Choppers, full-dressers, sport bikes, cruisers, anything with a motor and two wheels (preferably more than a 650 cc) was a chance at pure re-creation.
When Rachel and I were dating, she helped buy the KZ-900 we had for many years. I kept that bike in great shape, and with Albert and Dad’s help, it had a great paint job too!
When we lived in Waynesville, our proximity to the roads south of Oregonia was so close, it only took me about 30 minutes to drive away a bad day, week, or month. A 30 minute bike ride in the country can do wonders. The KZ was fun, the Bandit was even more fun, and the ZX-12, well, that was both fun and amazing.
Of all the riding I have done, the most enjoyable is having my wife with me. It didn’t matter where we went, I felt great having her on behind me, and both of us enjoying the ride, the air, and the freedom of 2-wheel road trips. One of the best trips we ever took together was a weekend of bike riding in Cherokee National Forest. Switch-backs galore!
That all ended after the accident that nearly killed me, and that event has taken away something that means a lot to me, the pleasure of a good bike ride, and the support of my family to ride.
That Sunday afternoon in July, 2006, the weather was hot. It was in the 90s, but my buddy Scott and I were planning on a road trip down around Morrow and Blanchester that day. I had just wolfed down a fast lunch, and we were on our way. Shortly after we left, being an insulin-dependent diabetic, I felt like my blood sugar was low. I stopped and it was.
My quick lunch was a bit too quick, and I had over-compensated for my meal again, and taken a bit too much insulin. I ran into the BP on SR 123 and I-71 to get some Skittles (my low-sugar cure-all). I ate a handful, but since it was so hot out, and we were both in riding gear, I did not stop for another sugar check, nor did I eat much more candy. Instead I hoped my sugar was good, and got back on the road so neither of us would get too warm.
As a result, about an hour later, I went off the road in a big sweeper just outside Morrow on SR 123, missed trees and a telephone pole by inches, and was thrown off my long-time dream bike, a 2004 ZX 12-R – that was to be paid off the next day.
Instead of being a little late for the ride and a little warm from having to make sure my sugar was good, I was Care Flighted to MVH, with a fractured vertebrae, a horribly twisted left kneed, a cracked wrist, and the pain of being tossed some 10 feet into the air and dropped on my back. As a result, Rachel no longer ever wants to see me on a bike. Nor does she want to ride with me again. Nor does she want my kids to ride with me.
I don’t like it, but I understand the reasons, though it hurts to know that all my years of being safe, doing things “right”, being careful, knowing how to ride, and knowing how to ride well, was all now moot due to not being careful with a disease that is completely controlled by me. I feel hurt knowing that others may not trust me, due to the effects and maintenance of the disease of diabetes.
Lately, I need a good bike ride more than ever, to help me deal with some of the junk life has tossed at me. But I no longer have an outlet. I’ve made a lot of progress in controlling my sugar, but still not enough to make those who care about my safety feel like a bike in the garage is a good thing. I’ll just hope.