Heinz Trucking

I spent all week being increasingly nervous about doing the 60+ mile bike ride from Philadelphia to Atlantic City - afraid that I'd wipe out, afraid that I'd finish dead last, afraid that I'd be exhausted and miserable.

Then, Friday night, after dinner, I got a toothache. Now, I get lots of toothaches and I've come to associate them with sinus problems (even when it's a bottom tooth, like this one) so I drugged up and went to bed. But when I got up Saturday, the pain hit the OMG level where I couldn't think, let alone function, so I went up to the dentist who assured me that the tooth is fine and there's no sign of infection.

So, I spent Saturday in a weird state where I'd spend a couple of hours sucking ice cubes (because it was the only thing that stopped the pain) and then spend a couple of hours pain free, only to repeat. !@#$

There's nothing like even a short bout of chronic pain to make you realize how amazingly wonderful it is not to be in pain.

And I had to decide if I was going to do the ride on Sunday. Finally, I decided that I had to do it - I had accepted donations and, if nothing else, I couldn't see how riding the bike would make me more miserable than I already was.

So, I was feeling sorry for myself and plotting the route into my GPS (working on the assumption I was going to be lagging behind everyone else) and I realized I'd be passing close by a friend's house, whom I hadn't heard from since Christmas. And I sent him an email saying "wave as I ride by" with a link to the ride site.

And I get back an email telling me he couldn't donate right now and he was awfully busy because his mom had been in the hospital for the past 10 days and his dad was no longer able to take care of himself.

Damn. Sent him a reply saying, wow, that's awful and, no, I wasn't asking for donation, I had already reached my goal. No reply. Meanwhile, the pain moves to a different tooth, kind of confirming that it's the nerve, not the tooth.

5 AM Sunday comes, and the side of my jaw is sore, but nothing like Saturday, so we go. Sue and the kids drop me off at the starting point and head for the beach. By shear accident and ignorance the place where I was standing around waiting and chatting turns out to be roughly in the middle of the pack, so that's fine. 7 AM comes and goes and finally, around 7:15 we start. Jaw hurts, but not enough to distract me.

And we get to the Ben Franklin bridge.

And the young woman in front of me does something (I can't see what) and her front wheel snaps back and forth a couple of times and she goes down. I slam on the brakes, get the bike off her. Another guy stops behind me and starts directing the riders around us. I get her to sit up, but she's not talking, just kind of wheezing.

All her top front teeth are gone.

I looked around, found them, and held them cupped in my dirty glove till another person stopped who had a first aid kit in her bag - and we wrapped them in a sterile wipe thing (all she had) and we called the cops.

I didn't have the guts, heart or lack of empathy to tell the poor girl what we'd done.

After a few minutes, the riders finish passing and the cops roll up; we explain the situation and then I did something else I feel guilty about - I asked the cop if I could leave.

I mean, I know that I'd already done everything I could; I knew the woman who now had the teeth was still comforting the girl, and I knew she was in the hands of people who knew what they were doing, but I still felt like a bit of a crumb for worrying about the ride.

Didn't stop me, though. I took off as fast as I could, started catching up with the other riders (and the other cops, who were driving in the left lane, blocking intersections and stuff as needed). At the third stop, I found the manager of the pub that organized the ride and asked about the girl - he said they took her straight to Cooper Medical and that plastic surgeons were on the case.

Man, I hope so.

At the same stop, I also tried to call my friend to find out how his mom was doing. Ended up leaving a fairly whiny voice mail about how I was sorry and how he should call me and let me know how I can help. Note to self: leaving voice mail while exhausted is almost as bad as leaving voice mail while drunk.

All of this makes it sound as if I had a completely terrible day - I didn't, though. The ride was beautiful, the weather was cool enough for most of the trip, the hills were almost non-existent and, up till the 50 mile mark, I was making great time. Last 13 miles I was pretty beat, but so were the other riders I was with. Had fun chatting with other riders along the way. By this morning, the toothache has faded even further, no big deal.

But I still can't stop thinking about my friend, or that girl, and wondering if there's something more I should be doing.