Wayside_Wisdom Heard Along the Way
Our "Great Mexican Adventure."
For months we anticipated repeating a bike ride we did last year. We – and about a dozen other bicyclists from our RV park – had toured Ciudad Miguel Aleman, Mexico, just across the Rio Grande River from Roma, Texas. We drove to Roma, parked in an available church parking lot, and walked our bikes across the International Bridge to Miguel Aleman.
There we were met by a tour guide and two police car escorts who directed us – riding double file – to a near-by school. The school children sang for us and gave us pictures they had drawn themselves. We shared with them the school supplies we had brought with us.
We were then escorted – still riding double file – along a busy main street to a delightful restaurant, where we were served a delicious lunch. From there, we were taken on a brief tour of the city, including the central plaza (the pride of every Hispanic town). An ice cream vendor across the street did a brisk business before we were escorted back to the International Bridge. There we said "Good-bye" to our Mexican hosts, walked our bikes across, and headed for home.
It was a delightful day and we were looking forward to this year’s repeat
of the same trip. We went to a different school this year: a public elementary
school, grades one through three. The children were just as adorable as last
year’s kids. They sang and played active, musical games for us. Then they
invited us to line dance with them! What fun, but we ‘old folks’ tired out a
lot faster than they did.
Then we got back on our bikes and headed for the restaurant. Bruce and I were leading the two lines of riders, just behind the police escort car. He was on the inside, next to the passing lane of the four-lane highway. I was on the outside, next to the unpaved shoulder. In the corner of my eye, I saw a car pulling up beside us on the gravel shoulder to our right. He was crowding in as if he wanted to cut in front of us!
I looked to the left to see how much space I had to move over away from him, and realized that my bike was already too close to Bruce’s. I quickly threw on my brakes hard and turned to the left so I would not fall in front of other riders coming along behind me. That’s the last thing I remember. I knocked myself out cold when my bike helmet and head hit the pavement.
I had fallen right into the middle of the passing lane of the highway. Fortunately, no one was coming and several of the other riders quickly blocked that lane to protect me. A couple of nurses and a retired policeman riding with our group came to Bruce’s aid at once, removing my glasses, trying to rouse me, and removing our tangled bikes from the middle of the road.
The police escorts must have radioed for help immediately because it wasn’t
long before an ambulance came. Several men, whose shirts said, "Bomberos"
(Firemen), loaded me onto a backboard and into the ambulance. Then they whisked
me – and Bruce – away to a small, private doctor’s clinic.
Although Bruce says I was talking to him, I don’t remember anything until the X-ray Department at the clinic, where they had taken films of my head. I slowly came around as Bruce told me for the umpteenth time what had happened and where we were. The X-rays showed no fractures or serious head injury. (I’ve wondered since if it showed an empty space where my brain should have been!).
A nurse started an IV, gave me some pain medication, and settled me in a room for eight hours of observation. I had bruising and pain above my left eye, a persistent headache, and pain in various parts of my left arm. But I was thankful that the helmet had done its job and I was still in the land of the living! We phoned the rest of our biking group to let them know that I was a bit battered but not beaten!
Nobody in the clinic spoke English, of course, so it was a good opportunity for us to try out our limited Spanish. The Mexican tour guide stopped in frequently to see how I was doing, and the restaurant even sent in two plates of food for us! After about six hours the doctor must have decided that I was OK, because I was released and sent home.
Just to be safe, we followed up with our local doctor who checked my head X-rays from Mexico, and also had X-rays done of my left elbow. Thursday, he informed me that the radiologist saw "a small compression fracture on the proximal end of the radius." In other words, the impact of the fall chipped a bone somewhere in my elbow a little.
Friday afternoon, we went to see an orthopedic doctor to find out what should be done about it. He pointed out to us on the X-ray the little crack in the elbow bone but said it was in good alignment. The treatment for this type of fracture is continued gentle use and exercise to prevent a frozen elbow joint. So I am visiting the hot tub at least once a day for my "therapy."
One of our friends here at the RV park said, "You certainly must have had a guardian angel looking after you!" To which I replied, "Indeed I did! And his name is Bruce!"
So many of our friends here at the RV Park were concerned and helpful that I wrote a ‘Thank You’ for the newsletter:
THANKS, Y’ALL
One of the rich and famous, I ain’t.
Don’t hang out on Wall Street a lot.
Sometimes my check book gets in the red,
But, thank God for the wealth that I’ve got!
Riches are more than silver or gold
Or green paper called "legal tender."
My wealth is in friends, tender-hearted, kind;
Women, men, short and tall, round and slender!
A bump on the head was all that it took
To reveal my life’s true worth.
In encouraging words and gentle hugs,
You, dear friends, gave me back my mirth!
Thanks, y’all!
By now, my black eye has faded, my left arm is almost back to normal, and Bruce’s right leg has healed. Our bikes have been repaired and await my doctor’s permission to ride again and I have a brand new helmet to wear! Our "Great Mexican Adventure" turned out well after all – just not quite the way we expected!