The Ride

I had asked Judy to marry me some weeks before. She had said yes but her heart wasn't in it, As we continued to talk about our future plans I could see she really wasn't ready for marriage. I had finally come to that realization Saturday night. By Sunday morning I needed to get away to clear my head and to decide how to beak it off.

I decided a ride out to the lake would be what I needed. The back road was a fairly new two lane black top road. Had some nice curves and some long straight-aways.  A guy could get some good riding in on that road. 

The day was warm, the sun was bright, October in Mississippi  was still fairly pleasant. The bike was running great, the thump of the engine was comforting as I road and thought about Judy. I had "borrowed" a tank full of high test Aviation gas from the full truck last Friday night. The bike practically jumped as I screwed the throttle down  going up the hill.

I could see the south end of the lake off to my left as I crested the hill. Down below a car was approaching from the north. Big Car, Chrysler New Yorker it looked like. The turn signal was on, they were planning to turn left. I down shifted, fourth gear to third. Right foot on the rear brake, left hand on the clutch, right hand on the front break. A little front break, some more rear break, Clutch, now third gear to second. They're stopping I'm good to go. Clutch, into third gear, more gas from my right hand. Almost to the car.

Oh GOD they aren't stopping. I stab at the rear brake, and grab the clutch, right hand on the front brake. too late I'm going to hit. I hear the crash. Something wet is in my face, I can't see, something in my eyes. The toe of my boot catches the windshield. Now I see the sky, now the trees on the left. Time has stop I'm floating, now the road. I hit sitting. I can taste the gas in my mouth, I think I'm going to vomit.

Now rolling, weeds, rocks, dirt, the taste of gas, I feel something fall away, the side on my head is cold, my helmet has broken away. I hear more tires squeal, the throaty sound of a Harley, now two more. Suddenly I see someone leaning over me, I have to get up. Where's my bike, now two more people are over me. Why won't they let me up, I'm thirsty, where's my bike, let me up. More hands hold me down.

"Lay still, don't move", I hear the voice say. " lay still the ambulance is coming, your hurt don't move."  Suddenly I'm very thirsty, someone brings me some water from a nearby house. I'm in shock but I need to was the gas out of my mouth. I still think I'm going to vomit.

I feel the ambulance crew hoist me to the gurney, God the pain! I'm still spitting gas. They remove what's left of my helmet and start taking my vital. I hear the siren come on, and the attendant calling my information back to the hospital. Why am I wet? I hear myself asking if anyone in the car was hurt.  Somewhere a voice say "No, now take it easy . We're almost there."

I feel myself being wheeled into the emergency room. "God the pain, make it stop."

"Not till we get some x-rays, we need to know what is broke," I hear the nurse say. My pants are in shreds but she doesn't want to cut them off, she's afraid she'll ruin them. " Cut them off" I growl between clenched teeth. Anything just make the pain go away.  I feel a wet sponge on my skin, their washing my chest, my groin, my legs. I hear someone say "3rd degree chemical burn". Now a strange sickly smell from some cream being applied to me.

I hear a new voice in the room and see the Patrolman.  He's asking my name? Where do I live? What squadron am I with? They wheel me out to X-ray.  I must have passed out from the pain as they moved me from the gurney to the table. I'm back in a treatment room.

"Please do something about the pain."

I feel the needle enter my hip. suddenly I'm warm all over, a gray fog seems to enter the room the pain is subsiding, the morphine is starting to take effect. I sleep.

When I wake up, the day is gray, it seems to be raining. Mr. Foreman, my landlord, is sitting in the chair by the bed.

"What time," I rasp.

" About noon,"  he says.

Can't be noon it was after noon when I left. "Day," I ask?

"Tuesday," was his reply. " They kept you pretty drugged up, they didn't want you to thrash around. Did you ...um lose anything when you hit the gas tank?" he asked?

I knew what he meant, my groin was the size of a couple of softballs. I could see the tube coming from under the sheet and into the bag on the side of the bed. It was filling with very dark urine and a lot of blood. Thrashing wasn't an option. My left hand was strapped to a board which was strapped to the side of the bed. I had an IV and a blood transfusion needle in that arm. My right arm was free but I was in no hurry to move it about.

"No," I rasped. My throat was dry and scratchy from the gas I'd guess.

"Do you want me to call to mom and dad?" he asked.

That's the last thing I needed, have a stranger call mom and tell her  her kid was dang near killed in a motorcycle accident.

"No, I'd better." I replied.

About then the nurse came in with a syringe of morphine, in a few minutes I had drifted off into my drugged sleep again.

The next time I came to, I had a visit from Larry, Judy's older cousin. Nobody had told her yet, about the accident. She had gone back to Hattiesburg that Sunday and hadn't heard about it . He asked if I wanted him to call her or if I would do it. I explained the situation to him, that I didn't think she really wanted to get married but that she didn't know how to stop it. I asked if he would talk to her and then try to take the rings back to the jeweler. I was surprised when he said that he and his wife had that same feeling and that she would handle the details.  I never saw or heard from Judy again after that day.

Hank, my roommate from the barracks came by on Thursday. As he walked into the room he looked up at the bag of plasma hanging over my head slowly draining into my arm. He managed to get " what's that" out before he passed out. I range for the nurse.

 She responded with a  curt "It's too soon for more pain killer."

"No," I said, "It's Hank , I think he passed out."

Two male orderlies appeared at my door with some smelling salts. They revived Hank and set him in a chair at the foot of my bed. He spent the remainder of the visit with his back to me. He never came back to visit again.

On Friday, I was awake when the doctor came by on his rounds. He explained that I had second and third degree burns on my lower torso and upper thighs. My pelvis was broken in five places and I probably had a slight concussion from my helmet breaking.  He explained that I had a long painful recovery ahead of me and that the only thing they could do was to let me lay there till my pelvis was healed enough to move me.

I called home on Saturday. By the grace of God, dad answered the phone. I told him to act natural, and then told him where I was and why.  I took the cowards way out and left it to him to explain it to mom.  I told him I would try to call back on Sunday and would talk to mom then. I was tiered and the morphine was starting to take me away again.

The doctor decided to take me off of the morphine on Sunday and put me on something less addicting. It was also less effective. On Sunday the fever began to develop. The blood that had drained into my right leg along with the burns had become infected.

Between the morphine withdrawals, the chills brought on by the fever, and the pain from the broken bones and burns, death seemed like a better option. Sometime during the next few day I had a visit from a young lady I dated before I met Judy. I vaguely recall the visit. I am told I said some very hurtful and mean things to her. I honestly don't know if I did or not but I see no reason why someone would lie about something like that.  I was in pretty sorry shape.

During this time the lady who was driving the Chrysler stopped by to visit. She was very sorry and tried to make it up to me by bring me some motorcycle magazines and some pajamas. Unfortunately, there was no way I was going to be able to put them on. Apparently she knew Mrs. Foreman, The Foremans had a beauty school in back of the apartment house and it seemed everybody knew Mrs. foreman.

By the end of the week it was apparent that the damaged area of my leg would have to be removed. I was scheduled for surgery for the next week. The Chrysler lady bought mom a plane ticket to Meridian so she could be there while I had the surgery. Mr. Foreman picked mom up at the airport and she stayed in their guest room. Mrs. F. didn't want her to stay in a strange apartment under the circumstances.

Out of surgery, I was now missing a chunk of my right leg. In its place were six stainless steel stitches and tube that was connected to a vacuum pump to remove any remaining blood. The fever was gone, and I was starting to feel some better. Then they started me on solid food. The stomach cramps were almost as bad as the chills from the fever.

Mom went back home and I began a routine of dressing changes, whirlpool baths in warm water and betadine and stomach cramps. By now the Navy was getting pretty anxious to have me transferred to the hospital in Pensacola. When my leg was sufficiently heeled, the doctor removed the stitches and I was sent to Florida.

Three hours in the back of an ambulance with only a sheet for covering and no heat is not a pleasant trip. When I got to the hospital, the doctors were concerned that I had lost the circulation in my lower extremities. That is until I explained that there was no heat in the ambulance. They spent the next several hours warming me back up.

For the next two weeks it was, change my dressing, and learn to walk. First with crutches, then a walker, on to two canes and finally with a single cane. At the end of two weeks, I was told I would either have to return to my squadron and take a light duty assignment or if I stayed in the hospital any longer I would be reassigned to a different squadron. Possibly a seagoing group. I check out of the hospital.

Armed with a clean uniform, a bus ticket back to meridian and a new cane, I returned to the base. My incision was still not completely healed so I had to have the dressing changed a couple of time a day. and I couldn't lift anything heavier than a pencil. I took some leave when I got back to the base and went home to heal, recuperate and...forget.

It was a warm Sunday afternoon in October, and I decided to take a ride.