Motorbike Crash #2: The Knee Hole Chronicles

*I lost most of my photos from Bali because my phone was stolen so apologies for the big blocks of text! Also there will be GRAPHIC photos of my knee injury below. You have been officially warned.*

Alrighty folks the time has finally come to tell the story of my glorious knee hole. The accident actually happened exactly one year ago today! Pretty wild to think about because my knee still has a gnarly purple lobster scar covering the majority of it. Eh, what can ya do. Nobody stares at anyone’s knees right? So after around 9.5 months traveling around SE Asia I arrived in Bali, Indonesia.

On my fifth night there I went with some friends to the bars. Because Covid was just starting to shut stuff down, Old Mans closed an hour after we arrived. The usual place to go to after, Sand Bar, wasn’t even open…so everyone was just lingering around outside trying to decide what to do next. My friend Sus and I started talking to these two good looking Dutch guys who told us about this club, Red Ruby, that they heard was fun. So I hopped on the back of one of the guys motorbikes to start driving there. I asked him if he was sober enough to drive and he promised me he only had 2 beers (I found out later this may not have been the complete truth). I even did the wagging finger number test to ensure he could see straight. He passed the test with a giggle… signifying I’m a silly American girl but hey! I want to be safe.

We start driving and after legit 1 minute a police man on a motorbike tries to pull us over. Neither of us were wearing helmets and I had a beer in my hand so I assume he just wanted to give us a ticket to make some money. The Dutch guy asked me if he should pull over and I drunkenly told him no… and to floor it. Would I ever do this in America? Helllllll no. But when traveling it kind of feels like you’re invisible and that rules are a recommendation, not a requirement. So as we raced down the street to out drive the cop I yelled at the Dutch guy to turn down a side street; I was convinced if we stayed on the main road the cop would catch up to us. So he took a hard right and whipped the bike down an alley. I yell at Mr. Dutch man to slow the heck down as we were going way too fast for comfort. But before he got the chance the alley just stopped. A dead end. He slammed on the breaks and our back wheel veered into the alley wall…and so did we. My right knee and his right arm smashed and scraped against the wall. The bike never even fell down so we hopped off and checked that the other was okay. I was so glad we lost the cop! No ticket for us…phew. Then I looked at his bloody arm and was thankful I made it out okay…until I looked down at my legs and saw my knee… split open.

*WARNING GRAPHIC PHOTO BELOW**

 When the Dutch guy saw this he started apologizing a million times but I didn’t care about apologies. All I could think was HOSPITAL. NOW.  I immediately jumped into problem solving mode and looked up the nearest hospital on my phone. I told him to get the heck back on that bike and take me there.  No time to cry or feel the pain, I need stitches and I need them now.  We start driving and I’m sat with both legs on one side, holding my wounded leg straight with my other leg. Suddenly another motorbike with 2 locals on it drove up next to us. They got super close to my legs hanging off the edge that I thought we were about to get into another accident. But instead the guy on the back of the bike tried to grab my purse off my shoulder! I luckily realized what was happening and yanked it back before they gave up and sped off. I couldn’t believe my luck, first a crash and then an attempted purse snatching?!? Who did I murder in my past life to deserve this?  

 We asked the nurses when I could expect the procedure but they didn’t really have an answer. They did inform me that I couldn’t eat or drink anything in the chance I needed to be put under general anesthesia. I was so thirsty though so I occasionally took a tiny sip of water from the plastic cap of the bottle. After we had been waiting a while we asked again how much longer. They told us that we needed to wait until a specialist came in…just a mere 9 hours later. We had already been waiting an hour so this was pretty grim news. But it was 2am after all so I guess the good doctors were not on call.

So there we sat, two strangers in a hospital room, getting to know each other while we waited. We talked about everything from our thoughts on the afterlife to our favorite fruits. I learned that Nigel works for the f*cken police in the Netherlands. I was astonished at how he agreed to run away from the cops when he himself is a cop?! His response was “I’m not a cop in Bali”. Can’t argue with that logic! Intermittently between playing 21 questions and Would You Rather, I had to pee. So Nigel would help me into my wheelchair, push me into the bathroom, and then wait outside the door. When I was done he came in and wheeled me out back to the bed. We repeated this dance multiple times. He also cleaned all the blood off of my sandals, what a gentleman.  

After many many many hours, the specialist finally arrived to talk options. He told me I could choose to be awake or put under during the procedure. At this time I had pulled an all-nighter with a gash in my knee and I really didn’t have the strength to be awake while they washed out the gravel and dirt. So I opted to have the anesthesia. The doc handed me a big fat bill to pay beforehand and it turns out I’m an idiot who didn’t get travel insurance so I had to pay out of pocket. Unfortunately my credit card had a $1,000 limit and this bill was nearing $4,000, so Nigel offered to spot me. Trustworthy guy. He tried calling his insurance to see if he could cover me since he was driving, but no luck (in the end we found it fair to split the price). He felt terrible about it all but I tried to convince him that everything happens for a reason and that I was okay. I told him to go meet back up with the group, but he insisted on staying by my side. He told me that we are a team now and if I’m here, he’s here. So I graciously gave him all my belongings as I was taken to the room for my procedure. 

It was the strangest thing because I had never been put under anesthesia before. I only knew what I’ve seen in Grey’s Anatomy which is that a nice doctor counts you down from 100 and you peacefully drift off. But that was not the case for me. I was put alone in the room hooked up to a heart monitor. I had never been hooked up to a monitor before so all the sudden my heart rate goes up and the beeping gets loud which makes my heart rate go up more and the beeping gets even louder. I truly thought I was going to have a panic attack when a doctor came in and said “You are fine”. Ok cool thank you SO MUCH. I remember blinking for a second too long and then when I opened my eyes I felt the bed starting to move. I asked the nurse if we were starting the procedure now and she informed me that we already finished. I was baffled as I don’t recall anyone counting me down from 100. I looked at my knee and it was all bandaged up. I had traveled in time…I was so confused. When I got to the recovery room Nigel was waiting for me with snacks.  He bought me mango because he remembered it was my favorite fruit. His too. 

 After I was cleared to leave Nigel bought us a fancy hotel room so we could rest without the commotion of hostel life. When we arrived at the hotel the receptionist saw me on my crutches and asked if we got into a motorbike accident. After telling him a summary of our night, he smiled and told us he once crashed a motorbike with a girl on the back too….now they are married. We laughed as I turned to Nigel and asked, “Where’s my ring???” He responded with “Let’s just get through tonight first”. Fair enough. 

After a lesson on how to go up/down stairs on crutches, we took a much needed nap. Then we ordered delivery food from 3 different restaurants. Because f*ck it.  We watched movies and did face masks and got to know each other even more. I also had to take my pain medication which included oxycodone, which I had never done before. I didn’t want to be without my wits with a new person so I made him take one too so we were even lol.

After the hotel we moved to a guest house for two more nights, then eventually to a villa with his cousin and friends. Nigel helped me change and clean my wound dressing every day without fainting at the sight of it. Brownie points. Days later we returned to the hospital for a check up where the doc poked around my knee wound and it hurt like a mother. It only took 15 minutes and it cost such a ridiculous amount of money that I asked to speak to a manager to discuss the price. We sat in this room where she explained to me why the cost was so inflated and told me I had no choice but to pay it. Goddamn it. Another L. 

A few days later Covid was getting really bad and Nigel found out he had to return home in a matter of hours. So he left 🙁 and I stayed in the villa. My knee ended up getting super infected so I returned to the hospital and the doc took the stitches out and claimed some antibiotic ointments would clear it. Yeah, it did not. My knee started opening up into a giant festering hole. There were still some stitches left in there that I pulled out myself. This weird clear liquid kept leaking from the hole too, so much that it soaked through multiple gauze pads.

** WARNING TERRIBLY DISGUSTING KNEE WOUND PICS BELOW**