It’s now a bit more than two weeks since I had an unfortunate incident with a serpent. While the leg is actually healing quite nicely I the joy of bending my knee has become a distant memory and a luxury I look forward to each day.
The antibiotics I am forced to continue leave my body in a semi debilitated state. Each visit to the restroom is a vile reminder of my body’s current inability to properly digest food. At least I’m not allergic to the drug this time.
The last regiment of antibiotics set my skin on fire and made me appreciate the leper’s state. My leg is healing and I think that the only permanent damage will be a pretty nasty scar. I can live with that.
One of the truly odd quirks of cyclists besides constant attempts to trim down to super model anorexic status and the tight shorts is the customary shaving of legs. While some might contend the traditionally feminine
activity helps reduce aerodynamic drag I have read that the true purpose is to aid in repairs and healing in the event of an accident. This is a true fact. I don’t shave my legs (my wife would never let me live that down).
The surgeon told me that he spent most of his time picking hair out of the wound. I’ll let you judge. Be warned these pictures are gross, disturbing and bloody. I think one of the nurses even got a bit squeamish.
As bad as the pictures are my youngest daughter had to sit in the room with us the entire time. She said, “Daddy’s owie was really gross. I like it when they cover it with something so you can’t see it.” She’s 4 so suck it up.