Every time I feel lost something new comes into my life to encourage me to drive on, to overcome, even to achieve higher a standard than I have yet achieved.
I have told you of my riding days in the club .83. One ride we decided it would be great to see how much PBR we could drink and ride, figuring as long as we were in a large enough group, riding at a slow enough pace, we couldn't get hurt... wrong answer sol. Sol is a term used by many NCOs when talking to a lower enlisted soldier. Sol; soldier, get it? Anyways. So we rode. We rode until we hit Golden Gardens. We sat, drank some more, and decided it was time to go. I remember as we were leaving someone yelling "mechanical!" That means someone in the group is having a mechanical issue and we should wait up and even turn about to help if they need it. We decided to turn about. I guess I was going faster than I though and didn't hear the "nevermind..."
The very kid that I just shared a case of PBR with stuck me, and I stuck him; hard. I had more body mass so it hurt him more... Nonetheless I don't actually remember the contact. The situation is a complete blank in my mind. I just know a few facts. My jaw hit the ground hard as fuck; my left shoulder hit the kid so hard, it caused a category IV separation of my shoulder; and that the front wheel of my bicycle was bent straight into a "U" shape; not the perfect circle it once was.
I woke up in the OR of Harborview Medical Center, Seattle; the major trauma center for everywhere from Alaska through the Pacific Northwest, including British Columbia. Harborview is also ranked in the top 10 for neurosurgery hospitals in the United States; to say the least i was in good hands. As good the hands may be, I awoke screaming in the OR as an oral surgeon ran 10 gauge wire through the gums of my mouth to stabilize the remain anterior teeth and jaw bone.
My shoulder would naturally heal which was good. It didn't require any surgery which is better than requiring a surgery. I had lost six of my eight anterior teeth; all four upper incisors, and my two lower central incisors. Quite ironic that I was trained as a dental assistant once upon a time eh? My parents were at the hospital bright and early the next morning to take me home. Good times. I would sleep most of the next three to four days.
Why this is coming out and into the light now you say? Just four days ago I had an oral surgery emplacing three dental implants; which eventually will be the anchors for a bridge and one lower crown to full-fill my mouth with near-natural teeth once again. I chose to stay awake during this surgery and have only local anesthetic induced. My Army oral surgery said, and this is a quote: "Cowles you must have three balls for doing this without full anesthesia. Going local on this...well it going loco."
Yeah, it was an experiences. You could see him draw in the scalpel to cut the gingival tissue back to flap it open to reveal the bone. I'm a trooper though. No crying, no sweating (except it was actually hot in the room from the sterile covering they put over me), no screaming, nothing.
You know what though, I can take it. I am an American Soldier. Good Night.
