Yes, it has been sometime since I've sat down to compose a blog, oh no doubt I've had the full intentions of doing so, even had it outlined in my head, yet the biotech industry has yet designed a USB/Firewire interface to access my neural net. So, I am left to plunk out this message key by key which is a slow process when one's right hand has been disabled...

What has imparted such fate upon Bill– a fate that entails a torn UCL for my right thumb?

MOTORCYCLE TRAINING!

Back in early March, I found myself in a classroom of a Harley Davidson dealership in an instructor-led class upon topics of motorcycle safety and training. Other than the cheesy videos, it was a good experience for the instructors made the class fun and they broke the stereotypes in which I held for Harley instructors- you know, the big, hairy, greasy types with lots of leather. I was scheduled for class 8-6 on Saturday and Sunday for the most part, those two days were going to be spent on the training course next to the dealership.

On one of the initial exercises, I was in second gear when I thought I was in first and I had difficulty not stalling out while everyone watched on. From there, things just continued to plummet. I seemed to keep releasing out the clutch and just like a car I would explode forward, which is a bit dramatic when one is in car, but even greater on a bike. On one occasion the bike got away from me and consequently I jumped off the bike as it fell over. I then tried to pick it up, and it fell over the other way. Funny how the constancy of gravity plays out. I wound up knocking off both turn signals and scratching up the paint a bit. For whatever reason, when a bike falls over it must hurl the fluids all wacky. The bike required work before it could be started again.

They gave me a replacement bike and as I ran through some of the exercises, I was telling myself I could not do it. I was shaken and no doubt unrelated stressors were influencing me. But I tried to fight through it. I had an additional issue of being stuck in second gear for about five minutes. The frustration grew. I managed to get back on track and as I was completing the exercises, I circled around to join the rest of the group, released the clutch too quickly and consequently.... yep.

It happened quickly and somehow during the whole event I told myself that I better flip myself over. I did and felt my helmet hit the ground. As I lay on the asphalt looking up, the words "I quit" came from my lips. I was a liability and I knew that there's no way I could get my mind together to continue. I briefly conferred with the instructors and got up. As I walked to the side and took off my gloves, I felt like pretty much the loneliest person in the world. At the time, I didn't think I got hurt and I filled out the accident forms saying that I wasn't. Yet, when I signed my name, I felt a twinge in my right thumb.

Five weeks have passed along with a surgery. I am now accessorized with a blue cast on my arm which has allowed me to discover all sorts of responsibilities for my left hand to carry out.