Temple to Temple to Temple to Temple...

Mike likes bikes.
No, this is not a quote from a Dr. Suess book.
Mike loves riding his road bike, and our tandem. He loves having a long ride to look forward to. He has ridden the Lotoja (210 miles in one day) several times. He rides the Triple Bypass (126 miles, 3 mountain passes) every year. But his favorite ride to train for is whatever epic ride he is planning and arranging at the moment.
Two years ago he and 2 friends, Mike and Mark planned a week long ride from the Denver Temple to the Salt Lake Temple. I drove the support vehicle. I designed their "Temple to Temple" jerseys, and those became conversation starters wherever we stopped. Our dog Sam was a great cheering section. Mike has been looking forward to another epic ride since then. So Mike, Mike and Mark have been planning another Temple to Temple ride for July. This time they will take a week to ride from the Logan Utah Temple to the Billings Montana Temple, by way of Jackson, Grand Teton National Park, and Yellowstone National Park.
Sounds pretty straight forward.
I don't think so.
My sister will be in Utah visiting from Australia, in July, the week before the Temple to Temple. We will be there for some family events. So Mike thought, "Hey, why not ride from the Salt Lake Temple to the Logan Temple on Saturday?" Then he remembered we will be staying at my mom's house in Provo. So he thought, "Hey, why not ride from Provo Temple to the Salt Lake Temple on Friday, and stop by each of the temples in between on the way?"
Hey, why not?
So the Temple to Temple has turned into the Temple to Temple to Temple to Temple...
Then I started training to ride a century on the tandem with Mike. And I thought, "Hey, why not ride the tandem on that first day? We could support ourselves. After that I can drive the support vehicle."
So we have been planning the route to ride from the Provo Temple to the Mount Timpanogas Temple to the Draper Temple to the Oquirrh Temple to the Jordan River Temple to the Salt Lake Temple. Many of these have some significance for us.
Then Mike thought, "Hey, there are many places in between the temples that are meaningful to us. Why not plan the route so we go by some of those?"
Why not?
And why not invite any family and friends who might be in Utah to join us for any part of the ride?
So here is the basic plan:
Friday, July 15th we will leave on the tandem from the Provo Temple at 7 a.m. We will follow surface roads to the temples I mentioned above. We will be taking a less direct route between the Jordan River and Salt Lake Temples. We will go by Dad's grave to invite him along, go by parks and grandparents houses that were a big part of childhood, maybe swing by the "This is the Place"monument before coasting down to the Salt Lake Temple.
Then on Saturday Mike will leave from the Salt Lake Temple ride to the Bountiful Temple, then along the bench through our Farmington neighborhood, then through Layton past the historic house we restored, up past the Ogden Temple, then the Brigham City Temple construction site and past the place where Mike was born, through gorgeous Sardine Canyon to the Logan Temple.
You are welcome to join us, or wave at us or cheer us on. We will be posting updates. If you want more specific details, message me on facebook (Jody England Hansen) and I will put you on the email blast.
Why are we doing this ride?
There is a wonderful freedom when you are on a bike. You can go almost anywhere, and see things in more detail. It is slower than driving, but not too slow. It is quiet, and easy to talk with others. I especially like the connection that you can have with the people and creatures around you, as well as an awareness of where you are. I have so many ancestors and family who walked through or lived in these places. Riding through them is another way to experience a bond with heritage that helped make me.
Hey, why not?

I Can See Right Through You

Mike is still in pain. He can't raise his left arm, his neck and shoulder are still hurting. He can't find a comfortable sleeping position, and he has to find ways to do more tasks with his right arm. He tries not to let on that this is effecting him, but he can't always hide the tension in his face that builds up as the day goes on and pain wears on him. And yes, I do see the grimaces when he tries to do something that would normally be easy but it just hurts.
Now I am not one that responds to wimpiness, and I have frequently used the phrase, "Would you like some cheese with that whine?"
But I am not sure there are great benefits to the "I haven't got time for the pain" method of healing either.
Mike went and saw a specialist last week. I saw Mike's jaw clench and eyes water as the doctor poked and prodded his neck and shoulder, expressed concern with the bone movement and ordered a CT scan. He looked at the instacare x-ray and said it was not detailed enough to show the problems.
Even the x-ray is trying to hide the pain.
There is one thing that Mike is totally transparent about. He really misses riding his bike, and not riding is impacting him as much if not more than the pain. Each time he goes into the garage he looks at the broken and mangled pieces of his bike, and mourns a little. He had worked long and hard getting every component and adjustment perfect on that bike. No parts are salvageable. I offered to help him arrange a burial, but we need to keep it until the insurance is done with it.
We took it to the bike shop to get a statement for replacement cost. As we unloaded it, each of us carrying parts and some dangling pieces dragging on the ground, I said, "When we go in there, please walk up to the repair desk and say - I think something is wrong with my bike. It isn't handling well. Can you fix it?"
He wouldn't say it. That tells you how much the pain is effecting him.
Does a wounded sense of humor count as pain and suffering?

Welcome Back, My Friends, To The Song That Never Ends

Mike was in another bike accident today. This time a car turned right in front of him and he couldn't stop in time. He crashed into the back corner, head over heels, snapped his bike in two, cracked his brand new helmet. He remembers all of this, so I guess that means this one wasn't as bad, since his mind did not block it out. Or maybe his mind is just getting sick of all this.
And this time he called me and I (not the EMTs in the ambulance) am the one who went to the scene, picked up the pieces, got the information from the driver and the policeman, and drove him to the Instacare.  Mike insisted he didn't need to go to the ER, so this was a precautionary trip to make sure he didn't break anything new or rebreak anything that has been busy building up calcification. His shoulder is hurting and he is having a hard time lifting it.
The doctor at the instacare took one look at his anything-but-normal looking clavicle and his eyes widened. Mike quickly explained that the clavicle break was from a bike accident 3 years ago, and the shoulder and ribs were broken 6 months ago. We showed the doctor the cracked helmet. He said, "Well, that's what those are for."
He took an x-ray, and let us look at it with him. He sounded impressed as he pointed to all the broken and misaligned bones to make sure they were all accounted for in Mike's recent accidents. As far as we could tell, no new fractured bones.
Now we get to worry about soft tissue injuries. That takes time.
I got really concerned when I asked the doctor if Mike could still go on a planned skiing trip tomorrow. The doctor said, "I don't see why not" at the same time Mike said, "I'm not sure I can do that."
Usually it is the other way around.
Well, I did ask him the last time he was in the hospital, that if he was going to get in another accident, make sure his bike got the brunt of it, and not his body. Bikes are easier to replace. Maybe he is just working toward that kind of result. This time, at least it is his bike that is in multiple pieces, not him.
I am grateful he works so hard at staying mentally, emotionally and physically well with all this biking. I just wish it didn't keep smashing him to bits.

Hawaii Can Wait

We got the tickets back in August, and Mike has been packing and planning for a week in Maui ever since. Every once in a while he would grin and do his "We're going to Maui" dance (No, I will not post a picture of that).

Wednesday morning he rode his bike to work. Less than a mile from his office he has to cross some old railroad tracks. He was going 25 miles an hour, and the last thing he remembers is swerving so he could cross the tracks at a 90 degree angle. After that, he has glimpses of someone standing over him as he lay on the ground, being in an ambulance in a neck brace strapped to a hard board, then in the ER, me next to the bed, then our bishop there giving him a blessing. After that, he became much more coherent, and all his circuits started firing. I had barely been holding my panic at bay until then. When his eyes started looking normal, and he started connecting the dots I let myself believe he would be okay. Shortly after that the doctor checked him, they removed the brace and board.

For a while it turned into a "Men Are From Mars" thing going on in the Emergency Room. One of his nurses was a big time biker as well, and he and Mike started exchanging road warrior stories. He looked at Mike's smashed and cracked helmet and said he had all of his totaled-by-an-accident helmets hanging in his garage like trophies. They were talking about the brand of bikes they rode, and comparing the size of their equipment, and I was fine with all that because it was distracting Mike from the trauma, and me from the drama. Then we were told he was being admitted to the hospital, and they brought a hospital gown for him. It was cold that morning, so Mike had several layers of biking shorts, jerseys and leggings. While I was concerned about the possible damage done to his brain and neck, he was worrying about damage to his favorite jersey and new bib shorts. His left shoulder was obviously damaged because he could not move or lift his arm, but he wanted me to try to lift his jerseys over his head. They had just given him some major pain killer, so he was willing to have me move his arm around for him. It was agony for him to get the first jersey off, and I said I would cut the second one off down the back so I could sew it back together. I went and asked the biker nurse for scissors to cut the jersey. He said, "Oh no, that would be tragic." He came in and worked with me to save the jersey. Mike was in pain but happy with the results. A non-biker would not have hesitated to sacrifice the shirt and save Mike from intense pain and an unintentional bone adjustment. I have not been able to penetrate the mysteries of the die-hard biker mind.

The most painful moment for Mike was when I said the words out loud, "We will not be going to Hawaii on Monday." He didn't seem to hear the next part - "It's all right, we will go another time. Hawaii will still be there. I am just glad you will be okay."

Actually, I am beyond glad. I was able to talk to the people who saw the accident and helped Mike. As soon as he got to the tracks, his bike tire caught on something, was yanked to the side and Mike went flying. He hit the ground with his head and left shoulder. There was no rolling or skidding. The initial impact was the full impact. One helper, whose friend will never be the same because of head trauma, thought Mike had the same kind of damage. When I talked to him Wednesday night he was amazed Mike's head and neck CT scans showed no injury. He was not surprised to hear about all the broken bones.

We can't always choose how miracles and healing come into our lives, but I know I will miss out if I am not willing to see it however it comes. So even though Mike has been in the hospital for 2 days, and he has 6 broken ribs, and 4 detached ribs, a 2 lung contusions, and a severely fractured scapula, and road rash on his head, shoulder, hip, knee, elbow and knuckles, and his pain is bad enough to cause his muscles to spasm, and he has to try to breathe deep and cough so he can expel the fluid from his bruised lungs... he also has a fully functioning brain, and is coherent, and more aware each moment of how fortunate he is to be alive.

So Hawaii can wait. We are busy enough creating healing and profound gratitude. So thank you for the people who stopped and helped, and the EMTs, and the great medical care, and great medicine, and the good insurance, and the blessings, the neighbors who walked Sam, the meals of comfort food from friends, the visits, the ice cream, the calls and messages, the thoughts and countless prayers, the love, and most of all, the miracles. Thank You for the miracles.