the birth of the nickname roadkill - last saturday (13/09/2015) i had a crash on my motorbike. shortly after, my brother took to calling me roadkill.
My back wheel decided in good will to lose grip as i came off a roundabout, i was unfortunately at an angle of lean which stopped me from regaining control and down i went, i slid on my side still holding the bike into the wrong side of the road, i hit the curb and my bike bounced up it onto the grass next to the road...i was not so fortunate. I bounced off the bike and curb and straight into the bumper of a car coming the other direction, i saw the bumper, thought...well ♥♥♥♥...there was a thud and i was lying with one leg flopped over the other with a nice ol broken femur. i lay there on a cold ass road with an very uncomfortable and awkwardly positioned leg from half 6-7 o clock till 10 when they finally got an ambulance to me, by which point id gone through 15mg of morphine and wasn't able to have anymore without actually dying, they got me into the ambulance and off i tottled to the hospital...this is where the fun began, they put my leg in a splint which just so happened to hurt like a ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ and proceeded to xray the wrong leg, tell me my leg was fine and it was just swelling, lift my sorry ass up and put me in even more pain as he poked and prodded away.
the consultant came over after a few minutes of happy poking from ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ a&e people and angry screaming from me and my very broken leg. this lovely lady asked why the leg looked fine, these chuffed and happy blokes said because it was...she then pointed out they'd xrayed the wrong leg and the a&e blokes were insistent they hadnt, they scanned me again and hey presto...my femur wasnt very intact. it took them 2 days to get me into theatre and shortly after in recovery...they overdosed me on morphine and by no exaggeration...put me on deaths doorstep.