The Fire Just Got Hotter

A lot has happened over the last week.  As I was approaching my appointment with the hand specialist for my thumb, I started assessing the state of my hand and observing closely what was happening so I could explain it to the doctor in somewhat of a coherent manner.  I figured he would want more information than “it fucking hurts and I can’t ride my motorcycle, or do anything else, quite frankly!!!”

From my urgent care visit I had learned that the joint at the base of my right thumb is “bone on bone” due to arthritis.  I know enough to know that, that doesn’t bode well for the future of my thumb and the overall use of right hand.  Now, I’m pretty sure that under most circumstances this sort of thing would be just one more grueling step (back, foot, hip, etc.) in my aging process.  But, my throttle hand?”  The buck stops right there. That is whole new ball game.  For me, that is life-threatening, literally and figuratively.  I can’t quit riding now, but riding with my hand in this condition has become down-right dangerous. I’ve ridden my bike briefly two times since this acute flareup in order to store our motorcycles in someone else’s garage during my garage sale, then bring it back.   Both times, my thumb went numb and the pain was excruciating, even after getting off the bike.  I couldn’t keep a constant grip on the throttle, or reach for the front brake without swearing in my helmet.

Houston, we have a problem.

Well if we have a problem, we gotta have a solution.  So I spent considerable time assessing how I used my right hand and thumb, what movements caused the pain to increase, exactly where the pain was the worst, what relived the pain, etc.  As I started to understand more about how my hand was functioning (or not), I started to realize that it could seriously impact my ability to sustain riding with Alice on the 50-state ride.  She made a casual remark one day that maybe I would have to drive the truck.  My initial reaction was “really?”  I’m going to have to think about that.  A few days later I told Alice that I was seriously thinking I would have to drive the truck, but if I do, I’m putting my bike in the back of the truck.  But, I was really struggling with giving up my dream and my commitment to ride the motorcycle with Alice.  I was pretty sure I knew what the doctor was going to tell me and I already knew what my hand was telling me.  Then we started talking about all the advantages of having the truck.  We really wanted someone to drive a chase vehicle for us, but nobody else is crazy enough to take off for a couple years on a volunteer mission on their own dime.   We can take more than just the necessities that we could pack on the bike, plus we don’t  have to make them all fit on the bike.  We’ll have transportation if we have mechanical problems.  We’ll have shelter in a thunderstorm instead of sitting on the side of the road.  We can sleep in the truck bed instead of camping in the desert (something about those spiders, scorpions and snakes).  We can have alternative transportation during our various stays and much more.

To make a long story short, I came to the conclusion that with treatment and surgery I will be able to ride, but I won’t be able to sustain daily riding for the next couple years.  After I confirmed my options with the doctor, I told Alice that I am going to drive my truck on the 50-state ride and trailer my bike.  She just nodded her head and asked me if I needed a hug. She knew this was where I was going to end up with this and understood what it took for me to let it go.  I did shed a few tears then. Another walk through that world of accepting my age and my capabilities.

However, once I made the decision and voiced it, it became the new plan.  Another close friend put it into words for me…”I’m still fulfilling my dream, just taking a different path to get there.”  I’m still hitting the road until I’m ready to return on a mission near and dear to my heart and I will still ride when I can.

Since then my mind has been leaping from lily pad to lily pad.  This changes a lot of things about how we prepare for the ride and brings up a whole host of new things to consider for me personally and for Alice and me on the road.  The fire just got hotter.  We’ve got a lot to do before we leave and we just made a major change in the plan.  No worries, we’ve got this.

So last Friday I got a cortisone shot in my thumb and headed up north to hang out with my mom for several days.  I had lots to think about while driving, then spent some time bringing my mom up to date and discussing.  I found myself expressing to her my profound relief after having decided to take the truck.  You’ll recall from my post a few weeks ago that I was questioning whether I was really capable of doing what I’m committing to do.  I’m no longer worried.  While explaining everything to my mom, I found myself getting downright excited.  I can do this now!

A couple more things…

When I arrived at my mom’s, I informed her that since having started washing dishes when I was 10 year old and washing dishes ever since…I had doctor’s orders…No washing dishes for two days.  Finally!  I never thought I would see the day.

As my mom and I visited, the phrase “Used To Be” sure came up a lot.  Used To Be…I could just do that…Used To Be…I just did it…Used To Be…I didn’t worry about it. UTB…Our new Acronym for Not Anymore.

Love and Peace,

Chick