Re: Pennsylvania is passing a new law so that motorcyclists...
Posted: Sun May 23, 2004 5:04 am
Patrick R. Kennedy dated April 25, 2004
My letter to the school paper
I have “Bikers Palsy”. Sounds rather benign really, almost goofy, like “road rash”, but it is in fact, like most injuries suffered in motorcycle accidents, not benign at all. Biker’s Palsy is a debilitating, painful paralysis that I will live with the rest of my life. But I was lucky that sunny day I wrecked my 1500cc dream machine as providence shined on me like it does few others. You see I can still go to school, have something resembling a social life, walk out in the sun, or hug my kid, unlike most bikers who hit the wall, —without a helmet.
Many people drive motorcycles far too fast, including me, much faster even than they drive their cars, even though they are far less safe on a motorcycle, whether they want to believe it or not. It is a common misconception that motorcyclists have the ability to react faster than other drivers, which is true only given the best of conditions, notably dry roads, quick reflexes, and some way out of a potentially deadly situation. Though most bikers tend to be younger than the population as a whole, and therefore generally are blessed with shorter reaction times; however, this is not always the case, and depending on circumstances may be of little importance as a motorcyclist may simply not have enough time to react to a dangerous situation, no matter how fast or nimble they are. Clearly motorcycles are far more maneuverable then trucks or cars, but in a bad situation a biker’s options are far more limited than those of other drivers. Closing your eyes, hammering the brakes, and praying for an air bag to deploy is simply not an option on a bike; instead, avoiding a collision may mean a trip into a road side ditch or trees, which, at any speed faster than that of a running dog, can be as deadly as hitting a bridge abutment.
Many people do not wear protective clothing on motorcycles, a practice that is at best ill advised given the frequency of injury to bikers. On a mode of transportation, (or sport depending on the riders mindset), where options are already extremely limited in a dangerous situation, lack of protective gear only limits a biker’s options further. Laying a bike down at a slow speed intersection to avoid a collision might be no more than an exercise in humility to a motorcyclist wearing heavy clothing, footwear and a helmet, but it can prove to be a life long struggle with injuries and crippling disabilities for someone who isn't. The precaution of wearing gloves, boots and at least full denim clothes can save a biker from what is dismissively termed” road rash,” an injury that can, in fact, be both painfully disfiguring and permanently disabling.
And of course, there is always the endlessly controversial subject of helmets. Since my motorcycle wreck I have had the pleasure of talking to literally hundreds of medical professionals, from x-ray technicians, to physical therapist, to some of the best trauma, and neurological surgeons in the world. The first question out of every one of them has been the same,” Were you wearing your helmet?” And every time I have answered that I wasn't, I get the same response,” You #%^&* idiot!” They never give me a hard time about wrecking my bike, and only occasionally do they even give me guff about riding one. But 100 percent of them have laid into me for not wearing a helmet. My brother is a paramedic who works the Sturgis bike rally every year. Through my talks with him and many of my caregivers I’ve become educated as to why these medical people are so single-minded about helmets—traumatic head injuries, pure and simple.
After recovering, as well as possible, from my serious accident injuries, I went back regularly to work as a volunteer in the rehabilitation unit where, after carnage and comma, I had started my slow assent back to the world of the living. There I witnessed firsthand what a swath traumatic head injuries cut through the families that have to live with them. I’ve seen the cut these injuries made when I happened on parents or a fiancé in a hospital corridor—surprising them because they had been crying so hard that they were nearly sick, and I remember the look in their eyes when, seeing me, they would straighten up and try to be strong, a hollow, vacant, longing look- like the eyes of a deeply wounded animal. I knew then that these peripheral victims of tragedy were coming to the cold realization that the stumbling, drooling, belligerent person in the room down the hall was the person they'd loved and the one who would have to be taken care of for the rest their lives, if they weren’t warehoused and forgotten. Yes, the once indestructible biker, who would have to be feed and whose filthy sheets would have to be changed. These parents and fiances would have to manage this charity while being yelled at or hit by a loved one who may well be reduced to crying uncontrollably, unable to understand his actions. Every one of them a head battered hero who said,” It won't happen to me.” Nine times out of ten a biker without a helmet.
Many bikers think that because they have slipped the trap a time or two, they are somehow immune to the vagaries of fate when riding a bike, whether safely or not, but as shown by the recent case involving South Dakota Congressman Bill Janklow and the death of biker Scott King—this simply is not the case. One mistake, one miscalculation by a driver of even the smallest car and a biker’s best choice may be to chew the ditch at 60 miles an hour. In real life that option will probably be a poor one as ditches are scattered with rocks, culverts and field approaches and avoiding one accident often leads into another that proves unavoidable. I've dodged moose and deer on dark winding highways, sugar beets the size of footballs and as hard as rocks that were falling off trucks on country back roads, and barrels of paint and lumber flying down crowded interstates. I was once run off a curve while doing 70 mph and fortunately for me, that time, there were no trees for me to hit. Riding through the Canadian Rockies on a cold July night, I have kept my bike up on unexpected patches of black ice and once did 180 degree slide backwards through a gravel-strewn intersection so fast that I burned the tire right off the back of my bike. I rode for 20 years from Alaska to Texas and just about everywhere in between. I thought I was immune too, but it took one mistake, and a carnival of bad circumstances, on a Minnesota back road, 20 miles from home to prove to me that I wasn't.
Sane, sensible, well-equipped riding will give you an edge when it comes to staying alive on a bike, but one mistake by you or anybody else, be it a myopic grandpa lost on an Alzheimer’s cruise or an eight- time DWI desperado, smashed to the gills on a weekday afternoon, and your life can change in an instant. Don't get me wrong, I still love bikes, but I’ve learned from experience to have an inordinate amount of respect for the iron that everyone else is driving down the road. The truth is that if I wasn't crippled due to my motorcycle accident, I would probably be driving a bike to school tomorrow, but I would be wearing my leather jacket, and you can bet your life I would be wearing a helmet.
My letter to the school paper
I have “Bikers Palsy”. Sounds rather benign really, almost goofy, like “road rash”, but it is in fact, like most injuries suffered in motorcycle accidents, not benign at all. Biker’s Palsy is a debilitating, painful paralysis that I will live with the rest of my life. But I was lucky that sunny day I wrecked my 1500cc dream machine as providence shined on me like it does few others. You see I can still go to school, have something resembling a social life, walk out in the sun, or hug my kid, unlike most bikers who hit the wall, —without a helmet.
Many people drive motorcycles far too fast, including me, much faster even than they drive their cars, even though they are far less safe on a motorcycle, whether they want to believe it or not. It is a common misconception that motorcyclists have the ability to react faster than other drivers, which is true only given the best of conditions, notably dry roads, quick reflexes, and some way out of a potentially deadly situation. Though most bikers tend to be younger than the population as a whole, and therefore generally are blessed with shorter reaction times; however, this is not always the case, and depending on circumstances may be of little importance as a motorcyclist may simply not have enough time to react to a dangerous situation, no matter how fast or nimble they are. Clearly motorcycles are far more maneuverable then trucks or cars, but in a bad situation a biker’s options are far more limited than those of other drivers. Closing your eyes, hammering the brakes, and praying for an air bag to deploy is simply not an option on a bike; instead, avoiding a collision may mean a trip into a road side ditch or trees, which, at any speed faster than that of a running dog, can be as deadly as hitting a bridge abutment.
Many people do not wear protective clothing on motorcycles, a practice that is at best ill advised given the frequency of injury to bikers. On a mode of transportation, (or sport depending on the riders mindset), where options are already extremely limited in a dangerous situation, lack of protective gear only limits a biker’s options further. Laying a bike down at a slow speed intersection to avoid a collision might be no more than an exercise in humility to a motorcyclist wearing heavy clothing, footwear and a helmet, but it can prove to be a life long struggle with injuries and crippling disabilities for someone who isn't. The precaution of wearing gloves, boots and at least full denim clothes can save a biker from what is dismissively termed” road rash,” an injury that can, in fact, be both painfully disfiguring and permanently disabling.
And of course, there is always the endlessly controversial subject of helmets. Since my motorcycle wreck I have had the pleasure of talking to literally hundreds of medical professionals, from x-ray technicians, to physical therapist, to some of the best trauma, and neurological surgeons in the world. The first question out of every one of them has been the same,” Were you wearing your helmet?” And every time I have answered that I wasn't, I get the same response,” You #%^&* idiot!” They never give me a hard time about wrecking my bike, and only occasionally do they even give me guff about riding one. But 100 percent of them have laid into me for not wearing a helmet. My brother is a paramedic who works the Sturgis bike rally every year. Through my talks with him and many of my caregivers I’ve become educated as to why these medical people are so single-minded about helmets—traumatic head injuries, pure and simple.
After recovering, as well as possible, from my serious accident injuries, I went back regularly to work as a volunteer in the rehabilitation unit where, after carnage and comma, I had started my slow assent back to the world of the living. There I witnessed firsthand what a swath traumatic head injuries cut through the families that have to live with them. I’ve seen the cut these injuries made when I happened on parents or a fiancé in a hospital corridor—surprising them because they had been crying so hard that they were nearly sick, and I remember the look in their eyes when, seeing me, they would straighten up and try to be strong, a hollow, vacant, longing look- like the eyes of a deeply wounded animal. I knew then that these peripheral victims of tragedy were coming to the cold realization that the stumbling, drooling, belligerent person in the room down the hall was the person they'd loved and the one who would have to be taken care of for the rest their lives, if they weren’t warehoused and forgotten. Yes, the once indestructible biker, who would have to be feed and whose filthy sheets would have to be changed. These parents and fiances would have to manage this charity while being yelled at or hit by a loved one who may well be reduced to crying uncontrollably, unable to understand his actions. Every one of them a head battered hero who said,” It won't happen to me.” Nine times out of ten a biker without a helmet.
Many bikers think that because they have slipped the trap a time or two, they are somehow immune to the vagaries of fate when riding a bike, whether safely or not, but as shown by the recent case involving South Dakota Congressman Bill Janklow and the death of biker Scott King—this simply is not the case. One mistake, one miscalculation by a driver of even the smallest car and a biker’s best choice may be to chew the ditch at 60 miles an hour. In real life that option will probably be a poor one as ditches are scattered with rocks, culverts and field approaches and avoiding one accident often leads into another that proves unavoidable. I've dodged moose and deer on dark winding highways, sugar beets the size of footballs and as hard as rocks that were falling off trucks on country back roads, and barrels of paint and lumber flying down crowded interstates. I was once run off a curve while doing 70 mph and fortunately for me, that time, there were no trees for me to hit. Riding through the Canadian Rockies on a cold July night, I have kept my bike up on unexpected patches of black ice and once did 180 degree slide backwards through a gravel-strewn intersection so fast that I burned the tire right off the back of my bike. I rode for 20 years from Alaska to Texas and just about everywhere in between. I thought I was immune too, but it took one mistake, and a carnival of bad circumstances, on a Minnesota back road, 20 miles from home to prove to me that I wasn't.
Sane, sensible, well-equipped riding will give you an edge when it comes to staying alive on a bike, but one mistake by you or anybody else, be it a myopic grandpa lost on an Alzheimer’s cruise or an eight- time DWI desperado, smashed to the gills on a weekday afternoon, and your life can change in an instant. Don't get me wrong, I still love bikes, but I’ve learned from experience to have an inordinate amount of respect for the iron that everyone else is driving down the road. The truth is that if I wasn't crippled due to my motorcycle accident, I would probably be driving a bike to school tomorrow, but I would be wearing my leather jacket, and you can bet your life I would be wearing a helmet.