Yesterday I met a friend of mine that I hadn’t seen in quite awhile. Six months to be exact. He was walking out of a building, and I noticed an appreciable limp. His name is Jay, and he rides a Kawasaki KLR, almost exclusively off-road through the thick forests of this province.
I stopped him, to ask how he was doing, suggesting that next week looked like we’d be able to get our bike’s out. Jay just smiled, and nodded, and in the almost silence I couldn’t help but sense his sadness and his pain. “Hey, what’s up Jay?” I asked.
“I have to give up riding.” My last ride last year I had a really bad fall. I’m still waiting for three surgeries.” HIs admission hit me like a gut punch. Jay was a man who literally bubbled when talking about motorcycling, moreso when on the bike and on the road.
“Damn, I’m sorry to hear that.” What happened? In his typical humble way, he said, “I was riding in Sandilands Forest, flying down a forestry mile road and I hit a hole. The bike rebounded with the front wheel high in the air, and at the same time, the back wheel kicked out sideways. I was doing about 50 mph, and I hit the gravel, hard.
“Geez, I’m sorry. Did you break anything?” I asked.
All he said in response, was, “Yeah, sort of.”
“Sort of?” I asked quizzickly.
“Well, it wasn’t quite that simple. A few things went wrong. I tore up my abdominal wall, tore ligaments in my knee and dislocated my shoulder. He said, sheepishly.
“Crap. Did the other guys get help?” I asked, assuming he must have had help.
“I was by myself.” he said. I couldn’t move for awhile. I was actually paralyzed, but after a few minutes, I could move my fingers and my toes. In a few more, I was able to move, but the pain in my arms was excruciating.”
I stood there in stunned silence, before asking the obvious question.
“How the hell did you get help.”
“Well, it wasn’t easy. I broke my phone in the fall.”
“Geezus. Did somebody come along?” I asked.
“No. I knew I was on my own. I quickly looked at the bike and realized, it could still be ridden, so I found a way to push it up and get it on the stand. Then I grabbed my First Aid kit and put some bandages on my abdomen, and leg. The bike started, and I made it back to the main highway. I knew I would pass out if I drove much longer so I got off the bike and it fell over on the edge of the highway. I must have passed out, because the next thing I knew, I was in an ambulance, moving.”
I just stood there in silence. ”How the hell did you drive all that way to the highway?” I asked.
“I actually don’t remember.” Jay said.
“I woke up in hospital. I was bandaged and medicated, and immediately my arms felt like they were on fire. A doc visited me some time after my admission and said I suffered “spinal shock”, but that it looks like I didn’t do any permanent damage to my spine. The pain was like nothing I’ve ever experienced, for about a week. It was as though someone was electrocuting my arms from my shoulders to my fingertips.”He said, matter of factly.
“So are you okay, now?”
Jay just smiled. “Not really, I have to have three different operations. I’m still waiting. Abdominal surgery, knee surgery and shoulder surgery.”
“Damn. When does that happen?” I asked.
“This summer and fall”, he said, They want to stagger them.
‘’I’m going to miss riding,” he said, “but I promised my wife. I guess it’s time.”
I thought about his history for a minute, and said, “Absolutely, you need to get healed up.” I realized how serious it must have been, because this was six months later and he was still layed up.
I patted him on the shoulder, and said that if there was anything I could do, to let me know.
Like the man he is, he immediately asked how I was doing. Amazing to me.
Now here’s the story you don’t know.
Jay is probably one of the toughest people on this planet, literally. A special forces retired Lieutenant-Colonel from JTF-2, SOCOM. This small military group is highly respected by Seals, the SAS, and SBS. Jay is about 50 years old, close to 6’5” in height, usually with about 10% body fat, and a marine haircut. His hobbies are cross-country motorcycling, climbing, parachuting, diving and target shooting.
You see Jay served five tours between Afghanistan and Syria and survived being shot in the chest, fortunately while wearing a very good armoured vest, which saved his life.
And after a career literally saving the rest of us from terrorists, he came home and retired to then look after his aging mother, his wife and his blind dog, Toby.
Men like Jay are few and far between, and we owe people like him so much more than most of us know.
So the next time you see a man walking down the highway with a limp accompanied by a little brown collie that is really slow because he’s blind, give him a wave.
He, is the best of us.
Leave a Reply