On Through the Mud
A week ago the Vespa was rolling through some thawing roads, wet and thick with mud, causing me to wish I had taken the time to mount the more aggressive winter tires this season. Pushing the scooter into less than ideal riding conditions seems to be a requisite part of my riding personality.
Or a serious character defect. Who’s to say.
Not long ago I was having a conversation about what drives some riders to clean and polish their machines continually. After every outing. Even on days with no rain, dust or dirt. I’m told that it provides relaxation. I suppose I understand. Washing dishes does it for me.
None of that seems to matter now though. Day six at the UPMC-Susquehanna hospital in Williamsport begins. A long week of watching and waiting.
Longest and Deepest
“It’s the longest and deepest incision I’ve made in ten years.” Not exactly the award you want to receive or words you want to hear exit the mouth of a neurosurgeon. When I saw the sculpture on the wall of the hospital I marveled at how much it reminded me of the incision on my wife’s back with the multitude of stainless steel staples.
Only her body sculpture is straight.
Because of the nature of the surgery and an array of pre-existing, auto-immune conditions, her doctors anticipated a longer than normal recovery period in the hospital.
They were right.
The surgery went well though again the surgeon stressed how “impressive” her condition was when he accessed the spinal canal. “Impressive” I’ve come to learn is a surgical term for “that’s really, REALLY bad.”
The good news is the nerve compression has been released. The less good news is it will take some time for the nerves to recover.
The Waiting Game
If you’ve never spent days sitting in waiting rooms or hospital rooms you can’t fully appreciate the mental and physical demands it calls upon. While riding the Vespa has provided a personal education. Life in a hospital does as well.
Thinking in terms of a work schedule — this job runs from 7am to 1am. Thankfully every place I’ve had to wait or sit had comfortable chairs. Whoever designed the place had family in friends in mind.
With someone at home living with the dogs and taking care of the house I was able to stay at the Hospitality Inn at the hospital — living large the first two days in a luxury suite, then a deluxe room, and finally the last two nights in a dormitory. It’s almost exactly like the experience I had as a freshman at Penn State in 1972. Right down to the communal showering.
Kimmie
Being able to sleep in the hospital is a positive sign. Recovery has been slow but steady. Mobility, strength and a transition from IV medications to oral ones is complete. If the doctor is ready and Kim thinks she can handle the jostling of a two hour ride home, a discharge may be near.
Would be great to go today before the snow arrives tomorrow. Snow is not an environment for transporting post-surgical spine patients.
Snow is clearly intended for Vespa riding.
Steve, I have been thinking of you, and hoping there was some good news about your wife’s condition soon…and lo and behold, here it is!
So glad to hear surgery is over, and that it was an “impressive” situation makes the level of recovery thus far even more wonderful.
Thoughts and prayers for you both!
Things were in quite a swirl for a few weeks. I suppose that’s to be expected in situations like this. We both appreciate your thoughts and prayers.
I’ve been thinking of you both, wanting to ask, but knowing you’d talk about it when the time is right.
The intervention is good news. A long recovery will be tough, but hopefully the end result will be positively worth workers g toward and waiting for.
Each day unfolds with new challenges or steps forward. We’re grateful that we had access to medical care and expertise to treat something so complicated. Makes you think about lives that don’t.
I know what you mean. I’m sure there are a lot of things, big and small, you are both grateful for. I thought no of you all often (pups, too).
Wow. I was waiting for news. I’ve never discussed religion with you, but I said a prayer for you and Kim. Can’t hurt. I’d offer the Jeep to bring her home in snow, but that really is a rough ride.
Of lesser importance, regarding “clean and polish,” it’s best to have two (or more) bikes, one for show and sunny day riding; another for rain, mud and off road. That way the showy bike never needs more than a dusting. The other never needs more than a blasting with the hose.
Re. your pictures. Very good. They tell the story well.
I do love making photographs. I suppose their success springs from there.
We’ve talked in person since you posted this Robert. But I wanted to say thank you again for all the support you and Lynne have offered. We do appreciate it.
Unless I get the garage straightened out there won’t be room for the clean machine!
I haven’t followed for a bit so didn’t know you two were up against these trials now. Anything I type will be insufficient, but keep the faith, if in nothing else than in the leaps and bounds in modern medicine.
Thanks Tom. There is so much for us to be grateful for in terms of modern medicine. As frustrating as those institutions can be at times, I can’t ask for more than what has been provided.
Steve(and latterly Kim):
In your mirrored self-portrait I see a much older man, with a grim continence
on his normally happy face. He no doubt is scared out of his wits.
His wife has had major spinal surgery, and is now resting comfortably. Now the wait to ensure healing is progressing according to plan.
ANY hospital stay can be arduous for the patient and the surrounding family, if any. Having spent more than my own share of life in hospitals and sometimes for many weeks at a time can well understand your situation.
No doubt your former employer benefits are still in situ and you perhaps have some form of additional coverages.
You and Kim are in our collective thoughts. A hospital can be expensive; with the approaching snow I’d err on the side of caution and stay there until this current winter snowstorm is finished and the roads are clear.
As to the Vespa “hunting” for a proper track while operating on muddy roads; the same unsteadiness is similar to what your wife has endured. somewhat unsure of direction and the ultimate result. For both of you!
There’s more exhaustion than fear in that self-portrait. And the general serious look I normally have I guess mixed in.
Penn State has great medical coverage for qualifying retirees. I can’t complain.
The Vespa is a trooper in all weathers and environments. I am always pleasantly surprised by it’s capabilities. Kim has the same can do attitude. She’s plugging away at recovery.
Steve,
I will include you and your wife in my prayers to the Lord for strength and healing.
Karl
Thank you Karl.
Steve,
While the road is hard, we are all enriched by your telling of this most important journey. Very best wishes for your wife’s recovery and for an early spring!
-Renato
Thanks Renato. It helps for me to periodically stop and write things down when life gets chaotic. And an early spring is here now. At least for a few days. Two days of 70F weather!
Steve;
You and Kim have been through a lot lately. I am glad to hear that progress is being made. As was mentioned earlier, your pictures tell it all.
Hi Steve;
I knew that Kim’s surgery was scheduled for Tuesday past, so I’m especially pleased to hear that it was a success. I can’t help recall being in your shoes about three years ago when my wife Jean underwent very much the same spinal operation, to remove a malignant tumor that was creating nerve compression inside her spinal column. All I can tell you is that her recovery period was thankfully shorter than originally predicted, and that she has recovered more or less 100%. Our greatest hope is that Kim will do the same.
And as for the clean bike issue… I know some owners take great pride in their bikes, but I always figured that a perfectly spotless motorcycle was evidence that either (a) it was hardly ever being ridden, or (b) that the owner was somewhat anal-retentive and perhaps cared more about how it looked than how it ran, or (c) the owner simply had too much time on his/her hands. I still take great pleasure in parking my aging and normally bug-splattered ride next to those ‘trophy queens’. At least I know mine is being used for it’s intended purpose (haha).
Cheers,
Jim.
I’m hoping Kim has a 100 percent recovery too. The surgeon doesn’t like to make predictions but stressed the seriousness of the compression at so many levels would take months to begin to see light at the end of the tunnel. Little by little I see her improving. Time will tell.
My friend Paul says some people really do like to polish and admire machines. Riding is secondary. Or tertiary to that process. Different strokes I guess.
Steve,
The Yeisers send your wife our best wishes for an uneventful, full, and as speedy as possible recovery.
Rusty
Thanks Rusty. Hope all is well with you and your family. I’m retired now so I don’t hear as much about the things alumni are doing. Slowly I’m fading away from that part of my life I guess.
I’ve not followed in while Steve so I wasn’t aware of the medical crisis. My best to your wife for the necessary recovery, and to you for being there. I’ve spent my share of nights in a hospital chair watching over a loved one. Take care of YOU as best you can.
As to the polish and shine riders: That would be me. Very relaxing like you and doing dishes.
Hang tough, enjoy the scoot when you can for fresh air and fill your wife with smiles each day.
I’m endeavoring to care for myself while caring for Kim. Each day she gets a little more self reliant.
Regarding the polishing and shining — I hadn’t considered the comparison to washing dishes. Makes sense. Maybe I need to try and polish the Vespa a bit…
Thinking of you and your sweetie…you are both in my prayers…
Thank you!
Visiting and supporting someone in a hospital can wear heavily on you. My late wife’s last stay was sixteen depressing days long. Being there for them was in our wedding vows. Do what you can to recover your peace of mind Steve. Kim needs it too.
Thanks for your thoughts Jim. Being there for one another is important. Critical in fact. Good thing we like each other. Helps get past the frustration and times when we annoy one another.
Wishing you both well.
We’re getting along, one day at a time, and see improvement.
That photo of you in the mirror says a lot. The hospital is not a pleasant place to spend a lot of time.
Yeah, they are a drain — emotionally and physically. But I am sure glad we have access to them.
It’s great to see a record number of replies Steve. You are both well liked people. This post certainly caused me pause and I read it carefully. Wishing you and your sweet woman only the best. Brent
The connections I’ve been able to make while writing and photographing my experiences with the Vespa scooter are humbling in times like these. I’ve been grateful for the supportive and positive community of people who comment. So different from the flame throwing I see on so many web site comments.
I appreciate you well wishes and I expect to be moving toward more regular attention to Scooter in the Sticks.
Truly do I empathize Steve….our thoughts and well wishes go out to Kim and you…..
Thanks Dom. It’s the rough roads that are more exciting right?
This path is a challenge for Kim, and a challenge for you as well. My thoughts are with both of you. The successful surgery means that the focus for both of you shifts to recovery and you will be able to play an increasingly helpful role which I expect will bring both of you some well-deserved relief. Your courage in sharing these intimate details is remarkable. It allows us to express our support to Kim, and to you, and is a benefit to us as well because it puts our day to day grievances into perspective as we witness your suffering. I am grateful on both counts.
I’m never sure how much I should share, or even if I should share details of my life outside of riding a scooter. But over time I’ve come to realize there is some cathartic effect from sharing. And for those not interested in my digressions they can easily wait for the next Vespa adventure.
I hope your own adventures in chasing your legal accreditations is going well. Judging my the mountain of books you have to deal with I think my brain would explode. My study days are behind me…
My thoughts are with you. I have lived the hospital journey several times in my almost seven decades. Like you, my riding is prone to serendipitous changes of course as roads diverge with unknown possibilities. Along the way a friend instructed; “Who knows the roads life will take us down”? Certainly not me, and if I had, I doubt I would have had the courage to roll-on the throttle. But we do. And the same serendipity shows us the value as we catch the vista over the next rise or the smile on the face of the next generation that echos those we have smiled with in days past.
Be Well
Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts about the uncertainty we face in life. You remind me that the challenge is to deal with what’s in front of me right now and make the most of it.
I think that’s what Kim and I are doing now.
Sending good thoughts your way. While the recovery will be long the results will be worth it for her to feel better.
It is no fun sitting in a hospital and waiting. I have been there with my brother many years ago when he had surgery for a brain tumor.
We’re past the hospital and the most difficult part of recovery. Seemed like it passed in a big blur. But she’s improving and I’m not as tired as I have been. Probably why I am just now getting around to responding to a month’s worth of blog comments.
Full speed ahead.
Steve,
I’m so glad that things are improving now.
Steady as she goes, my friend. I’m with you both all the way.
Best wishes
Keith Talbot (Hants, UK)
Thanks Keith. Fingers are crossed that things continue to improve.
On a side note — I just received a cool rack for the Vespa from Classic Racks in the UK. It will attach to the floorboard and allow me to strap things down in that space. Exceptional build quality. Looking forward to installing it.