Well, it’s been since April 1st since I was hauled off to the UCSD Trauma Unit overnight.  I am about 95% sure I’m going to call up the girl who left a note telling me she has my bike and say, “Do whatever you want with it.”  A total stranger who happened upon me right after the fall in front of her building has been nicely keeping it in her apartment for me while I forget day after day to call her.  Right now, I have no desire to get back on it, there’s a stigma attached to it at this point.  Also, the little detail from several doctors who told me if this happens again in the next 6-12 months, it’s going to be worse.  A number of them were amazed I wasn’t in a coma based on the way I arrived.

When I get back to riding, it needs to be a beach cruiser where you’re sitting further back rather than almost leaning over the handlebars.

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