Mom Plays Nurse… After braking both of his arms in a motorcycle accident, a 17 year old has to rely on his mother to help him in everyday things including bathing and going to the toilet, but gets extras in the process.
I always remembered my dad once talking about motorbikes with the family in the front room of the house, debating how the great Barry Sheen was a rare breed after he’d come off his bike again braking his legs, and how they were death traps.
“Bloody dangerous if you ask me,” dad said, “if you come of one of them you’ve got no metal between you and the road unlike a car.”
Watching the news report of Bazza being hauled into the back of the ambulance dad continued,
“And it’s even worse for the person on the back!”
“Why?” I asked bemused,
“cos they always come off second best that’s why, the ones riding pillion always get hurt more than the rider, if ever anyone, even one of ya’ mates ask ya to go on the back of their bikes stay off you’re safer that way son!”
Well of course being just 17 years old I completely ignored what he said, what the hell does dad know. Let’s face it at that age you just do things and to hell with the consequences and that was the case when on a Tuesday summer evening after school on some open ground my friend Paul and his brother were riding around on their bike or as us locals called them ‘chicken-chasers’.
To say it was barely legal was doing it a favor, no tax, no insurance, sounding like a Sherman tank because of no muffle on the exhaust and blowing bluish like the Flying Scotsman as Ryan sped all over the waste ground with his brother on the back doing his best impression of a Hell’s Angel.
“Wanna ride Mat?” Ryan said as his brother got off the back after being scared witless from his journey.
“Come on then!” egging Ryan on with bravado, making out I wasn’t scared as I took Paul’s helmet off him and placed onto my head for protection. Sitting down on the back, Ryan revved the engine over and over again causing me to giggle as I put my arms around him to hang on waiting for the burst of g that was surely going to hit me as he sped off.
“Hang on tight, ok!” Ryan shouted as we went off like our arses were on fire all across the waste ground, my vision blurring from the trees, rubble and greenery flying past at breakneck speed.
That’s all I remember until I woke up in hospital with a fractured shoulder and both arms broken and set in a pugilist’s stance. From the shouting outside the room it dawned on me that it wasn’t just me that went flying, the accusations started to fly also between my parents and sisters. Who was to blame, why wasn’t the bike legal etc etc. To be fair, it was harsh blaming Ryan as he didn’t force me to go on the bike, I did it on my own free will. As it started to quiet down mom then entered the room and gave a right old ear full about how stupid I’d been and how close I’d come to being killed.
After mom had calmed down the rest of the family entered the room as she explained what had happened, it appears that as Ryan and me went over a knoll on the waste ground we both fell off, he unbelievably just got a sprained ankle but like my dad had warned me earlier I came off worse, it was only the fact that I was wearing a crash helmet that saved me from more serious injury. She then carried on,