The End of the Adventure (Broke my Leg)

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  Managua, Nicaragua
Saturday, November 10, 2007

Three days ago, on the far side of the Isle of Ometepe, in the middle
of Lake Nicaragua in Nicaragua I dumped my bike on a bad dirt road and
snapped my leg.  Broke it in two places.  Thus began the penultimate
adventure of this abreviated motorcycle trip.

So, There I was,
screaming in pain on the side of this road very far from anywhere.  My
screams attracted a small crowd of locals (where did they come from?)
but for the better part of an hour it was them staring, me alternating
between screaming and laughing and my Dad doing a damn good job of
being calm in the middle of all of this.  All we knew was that an
ambulance was on its way.  After the better part of an hour a local
woman, Rosalinda, trained in first aid shows up and gets my foot (which
at this time was pointing in a very strange direction) bandaged up in
an ace bandage and get me calms down.  The screaming I did during this
makes the previous screaming pale in comparison.  A while later, out of
the blue, Bridgette appears.  Who is Bridgette?  She is a volunteer on
Ometepe training the local medical people on the island.  She's also an
American emergency medicine doctor and probably an angel sent down to
me at just this point to help.  She fashioned a splint out of two ace
bandages and a carboard box (more screaming here) and got me onto the
ambulance, which turned out to be the pickup truck owned by the hotel
my Dad and I were staying at.

It took the pickup almost two
hours to reach me (this was a really really really bad road) and
another two hours to get me to ferry to the mainland (insert more
screaming).  Then I had to move to the ferry and from the ferry to
another pickup which took me to the local public hospital in Riva (yet
more screaming, but not so loud at this point).  Total time from
accident to hospital-6.5 hours with nothing but 4 Aleve for the pain.

So,
there I am in the public hospital in Riva.  Not a single person spoke
English, and my Spanish is not up to dealing with hospital
emergencies.  They took x-rays (screaming here) and they set me in a
real splint (final bout of screaming here, thank God).  Then they put
me in a public ward with five other orthopedic patients, in a bed with
no sheets, no pillows, and with nothing to eat.  The ward did have
cockroaches, mosquitoes, a dog wandering around and various people in
various levels of pain and discomfort.  I could not move.  Thus
commenced one of the less wonderful nights of my life.  From what I
could gather from the doctor, I was going to be here for 4-10 days and
then they'd operate on my leg.

Not bloody likely

I give
great credit to those in the public health system here in Nicaragua,
they're doing their best and not charging a penny for it, but this is
the moment I chose to exersize my right as a VISA carrying American to
get the best care money can buy.  Thanks to the heroic efforts of my
father, who between buying me pillows and food and clothing managed to
get ahold of my insurance (who didn't help) and the American Embassy
(which helped a lot) and got me packed off to the best hospital in
Nicaragua to see the best Orthopedic Surgeon in Nicaragua.  I had to
take a taxi from Riva to Managua, but I got there.  I knew imediately
from all the drug-company advertising that I'd arrived at a modern
hospital and in less than two hours the doctor had me in a cast and
more-or-less ready to travel.

I spent another day in that
hospital, in my own comfortable room with English TV and food, under
observation since I slammed my head into the ground pretty hard in the
crash.  If I hadn't had a helmet, I'd be dead, as it is I'm just fine. 
Meanwhile my amazing Father was running all over the place, getting the
motorcycles off of the island and organizing their transport to Managua
so that they can be shipped home to the USA.  Once they are shipped, he
will see to getting them to Seattle while I live the life of an invalid.

Right
now I am at the house of a man named Salvadore here in Managua.  He's a
great guy who just finished a 12 month motorcycle trip of his own, who
picked me up from the hospital, who's helping my Dad get the bikes
shipped, and who's opened his house up to us.  I have a cast up to my
thigh and, on Tuesday, will be heading back to Seattle for about 8-10
weeks of recuperation.

More to follow soon.  All of my phone
numbers (along with everything else I own) are sitting in boxes in
Texas, so don't be offended if I don't call and say hi.  If any of
y'all want to say hi, please feel free.  After Tuesday I can be reached
at my parents at (206) 283-5610.  I also have a Nicaraguan cell phone
now, but that won't be of much use.

More updates (and PICTURES!  I know you all want to see the photos of my foot pointing 45 degrees off-center;) when I have more to say.

Matt.

Ometepe

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Accident #1

Accident #2

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