The aftermath - Part 10 - The end
Updated: Sep 13
I promised a last post about the accident, so here it is. Don’t get me wrong, this ordeal isn’t completely over. Dave is still frequently on painkillers, still gets his bandages changed by a nurse, and still has many weeks of physio ahead of him. But if I wait for him to be fully healed, it might take a very long time—and I might forget details worth sharing. So here it is: the tenth and final part of a blog that was originally supposed to have only four parts! lol.
In part 9, I left you on the eve of our trip to Scotland, a trip that the accident had put in jeopardy as it took place just three weeks, almost to the day, after Dave's hospital stay. On the morning of our flight, Dave had one last wound care appointment at the clinic, and the nurse sent me off with a stockpile of bandages of every shape and size. We like to travel light (carry‑on only), so I planned to buy scissors and saline solution once in Europe. We almost never travel in Premium Economy (those who know me call me frugal...), but I had found a great deal on WestJet, so we had already booked excellent seats. It made a big difference for Dave, who was still dealing with knee and shoulder pain.
The flight went smoothly, and so did 90% of the trip. Dave was very slow at first, but we still managed to walk between 12,000 and 20,000 steps every day. We stuck to even ground, so hiking Arthur’s Seat in Edinburgh was out of the question. But each day, Dave’s pace improved so much that, by the second last day of the trip, he was able to jog to quickly get us small change for the bus! My next blog post will cover the details of our Scotland trip, so I won’t expand on it here. Instead, I’ll focus on the aftermath of the accident.
Before leaving, Dave had asked the nurse how long he could keep his bandages on; she told him one week. That’s exactly what he did; I only had to tend to his wounds once during the entire trip. In Scotland, Dave received a powerful handshake that made him realize his three broken ribs were probably not the only broken bones in his body. The handshake caused excruciating pain in his pinkie finger, and he made a mental note to get it X‑rayed once we were back home (still not done).
The day before we left for the trip, we received an email from Allianz, the insurance company that handles the cancellation coverage provided with our credit card. The email carried good news: they reimbursed us the full amount for our two non‑refundable hotels in Niagara‑on‑the‑Lake and Niagara Falls. More than the money, I was relieved to know that the “credit card coverage” wasn’t just a marketing gimmick, it actually works! Be prepared to provide a lot of details and proof though!
While sitting in the famous Scotia Pub in Glasgow, Dave received an email from Aviva (his motorcycle insurance) confirming that his Harley was not repairable and that he needed to accept (or contest) a certain compensation amount. The amount was generous, actually a little above what Dave had paid for the motorcycle 20 months earlier (yes, he had gotten a great deal!). Dave accepted the offer immediately, and the funds were transferred two days later.
You might remember, from part 4, when I first saw Dave the morning after the accident and he said, “I think my motorcycle days are over”… Well, that statement has not stood the test of time. Much to my displeasure, Dave is now shopping for a lighter version of his dream bike. I won’t stop him from doing something he truly wants, but he knows I’d prefer he stick to cars. In the 24 hours before our departure to Niagara Falls, two different people, in two separate conversations, voiced concerns for our safety. One said I shouldn’t risk my life like this, and the other one said the problem isn’t the motorcycle driver, it’s everyone else on the road. After the accident, I thought, “It’s almost like these two had a premonition!” Premonition or not, motorcycles are dangerous. Since our accident, the brother of an acquaintance had a very serious motorcycle crash and is now fighting for his life. In the hospital world, motorcycles are called “Donorcycles” due to the high rate of fatal accidents that often lead to organ donation from otherwise healthy victims… Let that sink in.
I understand why Dave loves motorcycles so much. I too felt that sense of pure freedom and joy as we took in the spectacular views of the open road (prior to Toronto traffic that is). The feeling of the wind on my face and the sense of liberation can be exhilarating, an escape from everyday, comfortable life. It didn't take long for Dave to talk about buying a new bike. One of the perks offered by Aviva is replacement helmets. Before our trip, Dave had already visited the local Harley Davidson shop to get these replacement helmets. This means that there is a brand new, small size helmet in my garage that may never be used...
Maybe Dave will buy a new motorcycle. Maybe he won’t. At the mess yesterday, two people told him it was time to call it quits, that it wasn’t worth the risk. Everyday life is full of risks. Driving a car is risky, not as risky as riding a motorcycle, but still risky. I won’t ask him to stop driving a car, of course... So I won’t ask him to forget about buying a motorcycle. I will only make sure he knows how much I love him... and that he needs to read this blog every once in a while!
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