The day started bloody great. Work didn't call, so I could rush down to my beautiful ocean for a surf. It's been freaking MAGNIFICENT this week - huge swells rolling in, where some days on some breaks are up to 12 foot, and often 6 - 8. The kind of week where everyone is standing on the clifftops going oooh and aaaah just like watching fireworks.
When it's that big, there's only a couple of places to surf for people who can't surf over 4 foot, like me. One place is Fishos or Fisherman's Beach, usually dead flat, but that can break a really good wave and reach around 3 to 4 foot comfortably. To be out there Friday morning with big waves in distance and dolphins swimming through the bay is just truly heaven on earth. It wasn't too busy, but got busier as the morning rolled on, and I was out there with a few woman I know and like, a whole heap of other girls I don't know, and about four blokes. One guy was being a bit of a dick, snaking us (that means paddling around us to get the wave even though we had right of way) and not interacting, so I was avoiding him so as not to get into any trouble. I know the type. A dangerous dickhead.
Bells this week - and this isn't even as big as it got
I surfed on the SUP for a couple of hours, but boy was I getting cold. We were talking about how good a coffee or chai was going to be. I went in, washed my frozen feet with warm water from van, and went back in, telling myself how great cold water was. Air temp was about 7, water temp about 14. I took my longboard out this time and planned to stay out another hour, but life had other plans.
After one wave, I was paddling back out and the old guy I was avoiding came screaming down the line on a good wave, kinda out of blue. I kept paddling over the wave as he was definitely good enough to go round me or over the top and he was going so fast I had nowhere to go and couldn't move fast enough. In this situation the guy on the wave SHOULD either bail or move around me, but he decided to run straight over me. Fuck. He went right over my arm, and kept going, and disappeared.
Now, no matter whose fault it is, what people normally do is stop and say: are you okay? As in this situation I wasn't - my arm felt shattered, as if I'd broken it, and I hugged it tight to my chest with my board flailing behind me as I dived under the next four waves, waiting for the set to pass. When it did I wiggled my fingers and assured myself it was just really, really bruised, and started one arm dog paddling in, pushing my board as I went. I didn't have the energy to pull myself on my board just yet. A few people that saw it paddled over to ask if I was okay as I clearly wasn't, and I think by swimming I was trying to signal that I wasn't good. I said I'd need help getting to shore, but was calm and matter of fact. I know shock gives you some time to get yourself out of danger.
A girl, Jade, asked me my name, which was funnily enough the same name as her sisters, who she skidded her board over to, to mind so she could help me. Whilst she was doing that I peeled the forearm of my wetty back and a GEYSER of blood shot out, shocking the sisters into action. I put the wetty back on quick smart and Jade helped me get on my board and pushed it along and swam, with me one arm paddling. It was probably 500 metres to shore. I think she was panicking more than me and I reassured her I was okay and I could swim and knew the ocean so don't stress, I was okay. Bless her. She was saying how it was her first surf in weeks as she had broken her nose out there a while back. Another guy paddled over to see if we were good and asked what happened and agreed it was the other guys fault and he was a dick. Everyone who saw it was livid, and agreed at very least he could have checked to see if I was okay. In fact, this would be the text my brother in law would send me, and word moved round the coast all weekend about it - no one was happy!
By the time I got into shore, I saw my mate Cass was getting changed (I only know her from surfing, she's a good little goofie footer and I see her and her wife Steph out a lot - we chat often) so I asked Jade to put my board in the van and they talked about where to take me. Cass quickly got changed and chucked her board on the roof, I threw on a surfing towel poncho, and Jade put my clothes in Cass's car. By this time a small crowd had gathered and two woman in wettys ran over, saying they were emergency nurses and they could help. One peeled back my suit, said I'd be fine, but to keep pressure on it, whilst her mate grabbed a bandage from her car (I'm seriously keeping a bandage in my van for next time someone gets injured). No one would let me get out of my suit. She said I could go to the public hospital for free (long waits) or Geelongs beautiful private hospital, Epworth, for 200 bucks. Cass took me to Epworth and I called Jamie on the way to meet him there. It was a half hour drive away.
Cass dropped me at emergency and parked whilst I waited to be triaged. Thing is, I'm standing there in my wetty and towel, white as fuck, shivering and shaking like billy-o because I was ALREADY cold even before the injury and now shock was setting in. I started to cry as I didn't know what state my arm was in or how long I'd be shivering for and didn't think I could stand it. Later the nurse said I looked like a drowned rat. She pulled me into a room, got me out of my wetty and wrapped me in warm blankets, which was the best thing ever. Now, heres the point you look away if you are squeamish as I'm going to share the wound. It's not too intense but if that kinda think grosses you out, look away. I like to see and find it fascinating - not other people but certainly my own. Ready?
I was happy at this stage as I was warm, Jamie was there to help me into my clothes, and I knew my arm wasn't broken and I hadn't got an artery. In fact the doctor said I was really lucky I hadn't and if I was going to get a fin slice anywhere, it was a good place to get it. Two inches down and left and I would have really done a number on my wrist.
As it was a private hospital Jamie paid and did the forms whilst I waited, and it was only an hour before I was taken into another room to be stitched up. I got two internal stitches to pull the muscle together and four external, plus a few steri strips and a bandage, and I was good to go.
Whilst I was in the waiting room two other guys came in with surf injuries - one to the head, and one to the arm. Apparently there has been a steady trickle for the fortnight as the surfs been so big and good. Even a mate said later his leggy snapped and he was dragged over rocks and banged up his knees and broke his board.
Jamie had gone back to work at this point as I was fine on my own after knowing it was okay, and my folks picked me up as my van was still at Fishos and I needed Dad to drive it home. He has a VW van too but an auto, and hadn't driven a manual in 40 years, so it was a bit of a crazy start to the drive as he keeps stalling and missing gears, but we got home in the end.
As it was Jamie's 50th the day before (I was doing a great job of stealing his thunder) we were meeting at my folks anyway for takeaway Indian. By this time it was 2 pm and I hadn't had my second cuppa for the day - I had been at the beach since the sun rose. I still hadn't warmed up properly so Mums tea and a huge homemade Anzac biscuit was the best ever. We had a great time with the family and my best mate Tam, with my nephews jamming guitar (they are 17 and 15) and I was thinking how great people were - my family, and the girls who came to my rescue, and the nurses. Legends all.
It's been a painful weekend, and my body has been doing clever body things like swelling up to heal the wound. Panadol and rest have been my friends, and Jamie, who has had to do everything including cooking and putting on my bra, both difficult jobs.
I'm just so bloody glad it wasn't broken. I missed good waves yesterday but it is going to be bad over the next week - time to heal.
Hopefully that's my three - screw in the foot, the chunk out of my leg from running into the bike rack, and a fin slice.
With Love,
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