Back in the saddle again

First, a little sign of spring for my dear stiney b.

Second, I got back on my bike again today.

For those of you who don't know (yeah, like I have an actual audience here in cyberland, like I'm not jostling for position with about a million other blogs), I had a little accident about a month ago wherein I wiped out pretty hard (avoiding a collision with a 3/4 ton pick up whose driver was blinded by afternoon sun, or whose driver just wanted to hit me--I like to think it was the former) and nailed my crotch on the crossbar. Flash forward three hours and I'm laying on my bed with no pants on, allowing my dear sweet love, S. (bless her sweet soul) to pry apart my labial lips and inspect the place from whence blood was coming...and then there we were, driving 30 minutes to an after hours care place on a Sunday evening, Superbowl Sunday no less (good thing, since traffic was virtually non existant), just so I could have a nurse and then a doc and then another nurse inspect my vagina and its outerbanks.

Turns out I'd lacerated my labia, about a 1/2 inch or so, "clean" they said (I guess it didn't have any jagged edges and looked like a bubble had popped open) and there was talk of sutures. I said Helll No.

"The only thing that will hurt is the lidocaine," said the Hot Doctor.
"You're going to give me a shot down there?" I replied. I could feel my lunch burrito rising from my stomach up my esophagus. "No way."
"We might be able to just let it heal," Hot Doc says.

S. and I had seen kids in the waiting room, mostly with flu like symptoms, but one kid had a bad cut on his forehead and they'd used glue to mend it.

So my partner chimes in, rather meekly, "Can you use that glue?"
Hot Doc chuckles. "We don't usually use that on mucous membranes. I think it's either we stitch it or leave it alone. Let me go grab the other doc on call and see what she thinks."
I must be staring at her blankly, because then she says "You okay with having someone else look at you?"
Oh no! The more the merrier! I'm as fresh as a daisy! (I still want to puke.)
"No, that's fine," I say.
Hot Doc leaves, and I look at S.with wide eyes.
"I'm NOT getting a shot. The thought of it is making me nauseous," I say.
"I know, I know...I wish they could use the glue," she says.
We wait for 10 minutes. I am sighing heavily. My vagina is chilly.
Hot Doc comes back.
"Well, I called the ob/gyn on call and he said we have two options," she says.
I imagine the OB/Gyn on call sitting in his living room, beer in hand, munching on nachos and yelling at his t.v. as Seattle gives away another first down. I am pleased by this thought, if only because I love the Steelers and the Seahawks can kiss my overly-exposed ass.
Hot Doc continues. "We can either let it heal...I mean, let's face it, you've got a self-cleaning oven down there...or we can glue it!"
"Really??!" squeals S.
"Yup. It might not hold too long, but we just want to give it a healing head-start."
"Cool," I say, taking in a deep breath and letting all the shot-in-the-cooch anxiety drain out of me.
Nurse comes in and together she and Hot Doc get their glue on. Get my glue on. Apply glue, hold.
"Don't sit up right away," says Hot Doc. "I want to give this a chance to dry a bit."
"No problem," I say.
Soon, Hot Doc and S.and I are chattering on about rammed earth homes and wind power and how Hot Doc wants to build a rammed earth home but can't find a builder/firm in Colorado that does it, and S. mentions that she might know people, and I say that I know people in Montana, and the next thing I know, Hot Doc is handing S. her card with her personal info on it.
Oooooo, we have Hot Doc's #.

Walking out to the car, sloooooowly, I might add, it feels like there's a little pinto bean nestled between my lips. Not mouth lips--the other kind. I take little steps. I'm like those daddy emperor penguins that are trying to move without allowing the egg to drop from the pouch of warmth on their feet onto the murderously cold ice. I fear that if I spread my legs too far, open my stride, the glue will come unglued and my laceration will ooze.

I am happy to report that the glue lasted, oh, about five days or so, and several days after that I was back to normal. But I didn't get back on a bike for almost three weeks because I wanted to give myself time to heal. Today, I got back on that bike and rode to a local art gallery/framing place. It was a short ride, just about a half and hour, and I had forgotten how badly I wrenched my handlebars when I crashed, but now that one of my handles is higher that the other, I can be more upright on my bike.

It was great to ride again. And I am happy to report that my labia has fully recovered.