It should have been triathlon weekend

Instead, it is "four weeks after surgery weekend." Hard to believe, but it's already been that long again. I wish I could report that I am walking without crutches and that all evidence of swelling is a thing of the past, but it's not so: I still limp around without being able to put any real weight on my right leg, and the knee, even though I can now bend it to about 90 degrees, still feels as if it has a big lump of concrete in it. In other words: This is not my first choice of vacation.

The Life of Pi, while working on getting to 95 degrees

Since my last post two weeks ago the weather here in Freising has turned from barely spring to sweltering summer. No, Henrietta, they really don't have air conditioning here, and that includes the otherwise extremely modern physical therapy place as well as 98% of the shops and stores and restaurants. So what does one do? Well, you guessed it, one goes skinny dipping in the nearest pond!

A furry dog and a nekkid retiree contemplate the heatwave ...

... while toads are waiting to mate ...

... and Sabine cools off

Seriously, it has been pretty rough for a few days. After all the rain the mosquitoes are out in force, too, and sitting in a biergarten necessitates bug repellant. I've been spending the past two weeks with PT and occasional limpages into town. Since everything takes a little—no, a LOT!—longer than usual I really don't read as much as I thought I would, and I am certainly not getting bored. As indicated in the title of this post, the Erdinger Stadttriathlon is going to happen in two days, and Sabine and I have gone out to the venue so that she could ride the bike route while I enjoyed Erdinger Urweisse in the obligatory biergarten. Since the sun doesn't set until almost 10 p.m. there's time left after work to do things.

Somehow these two delicacies have become a staple in my diet

Last weekend was a very busy one as Sabine's son, Jonathan, celebrated his confirmation. His dad, grandparents, uncles. and assorted other relatives came to town to help with the festivities, and we were altogether 13 normal folk and one gimp. Good thing that I usually travel with at least one decent shirt so that they didn't run me out of the church. The weather had already turned from grey to sunny, and thus the whole affair will be remembered in the most positive light. I certainly got my fill of family (and many a fine beer!).

80-year-old Opa Karl and the gimp take a siesta after Sunday's lunch

In ten days I am going to fly back to the US, and I have to say that I am looking forward to getting back to my normal home. Sabine has been wonderful in caring for me, and I am trying to take over as many little chores as possible, but I am so damn limited. Yesterday I cooked again for the three of us, but standing for any length of time makes the leg swell up and I am so slow moving around even a small kitchen. But things are getting better, in small doses, and my patience level has been high with only very few short fits of desperation. On Monday I'll start thinking about how I'll manage to re-pack my bike as I would like to take it back to the states, if at all possible. so far, every problem has found a solution, and I'll keep thinking along those lines. On that note I'll leave you with these two fun photos that I have also posted on Facebook but that I would like to preserve for myself, both taken while hobbling through town.

That urchin sensed that I was going to ride his Scoot away

Six-pack holder for four beers

Have a great weekend, and see you before long.

Jürgen

Two weeks after surgery

Happiness is non-hospital and a beer!

Here we are, two weeks after surgery, and the damn leg is totally healed. NOT—just kidding! But things are much better than just a fortnight ago, and every day brings a little bit of an improvement, sometimes a bit more, sometimes a little less. Just getting out of the hospital last week Friday (nine days ago) was such a big thing for me. After Sabine drove me back to Bernd and Isolde's place in Wasserburg I propped up my leg and enjoyed a wonderful beer. I think the photo above speaks volumes.

Isolde, Norbert, Bernd, Sabine, Oliver, Martina, and Elli celebrate the Invalid's return to the Land of the Living

That afternoon, half a dozen of their sailing friends came over and we had a bit of prosecco before digging into home-baked cakes and coffee, in true German fashion. I had felt cared-for in the hospital, but this gave me the first feeling of "home," even though actually being there is still weeks away.

Playing with my big, green ball—rehab at home

We stayed for an extra night in Wasserburg before driving back to Freising. I had been worried about getting in and out of the car, and especially sitting for three hours, but neither was an issue. In pouring rain, which caused some of the worst flooding that southern Germany has seen in a long time, we arrived at Sabine's place, where I have been laid up for the past week. On Monday, I had my first PT session (I tell you, I've been super-lucky setting up appointments with almost no delay); rehab will continue on a thrice-weekly basis until I fly back. On Thursday I went to see an orthopedist whose office is literally 30 or 40 meters from Sabine's place. My stitches were removed and things look really, really good. I'm supposed to go back in two weeks for a quick check-up and a possibly a x-ray (which the doc had deemed unnecessary last week after providing him with all the pics that I had received from Prof. Maurer). The incisions are healing up nicely, even though there still are some very major bruises around my heel, my knee, and my outer upper thigh, all in colors that are worthy of a Kodak moment.

With thread ...

... and without

While Sabine has been back at work I have been reading, answering e-mails, doing leg exercises, paying credit cards and other bills online, and working with her son, Jonathan, on his English assignments and vocabulary lists. He's been having fun doing so, maybe because I once in a while throw a little zinger in there to keep him interested (e.g., telling him about Thomas Crapper, inventor of the modern flush toilet, when the word "crap" appeared in his vocabulary list). We've been sharing a few good laughs, for sure. I've also started to limp into town, not easy with the cobblestones surrounding Sabine's 16th century home. But I take my time, and with (now-)beautiful weather my mood improves when I get to run off for a little while.

Sabine, Barbara, Heiner, and the Invalid enjoying beer (shown) and music (not shown)

Friday night, Sabine and I went to an outdoor concert in one of the two town squares, maybe half a kilometer away. We met two friends and listened to the finest Bavarian music I've ever heard. No, this was not the stuff you'd hear in the Hofbrauhaus in Munich. Koflgschroa is a group of four young men from Oberammergau (they grew up with music, obviously!) who have developed a style totally their own playing tuba, waldhorn, guitar, and accordion. The result is something impossible for me to describe—if you have a minute, you may want to follow this YouTube link. Modern Bavarian music is something else! After all the crappy (there's that word again!) weather everybody seemed to be out, enjoying brews and the concert (which celebrated the 500th anniversary of a local pub, Furtner).

Koflgschroa

The whole scene was different from what one would expect at a similar concert in many (maybe even most) parts of the US: People walking up or riding their bikes, no loud talk by anyone but a steady murmur of conversation by those a bit away from the small stage, while those in front of the stage are enraptured by the gentle, caressing sounds these guys produced; waiters not overly concerned about whether your beer is empty; a city bus driving by every 20 minutes, and the occasional taxi unloading a few more spectators. Dress code is Bavarian-casual: some seem to have shopped at the local Goodwill, others come in Lederhosen, and some are definitely gussied up. It's all a melange that exudes a soft, almost caressing atmosphere. The German word, which is untranslatable, is Gemütlichkeit, I believe.

Easy does it, on stage ...

... and off

Yesterday was another beautiful day, and Sabine decided to take me out for a big excursion, to the Staffelsee, about 100 K south of us. No, no more sailing—nyet to that for a while, I'm afraid. But just this past week she had been in that area with a delegation from Cincinnati, OH, in her capacity as a landscape architect for the City of Munich, and she thought that my spirits would be lifted (I did have a 5-minute hissy fit on Friday afternoon) if we went to the foothills of the Alps. Oh man, was this ever a pretty trip! The recent torrential rains had produced more snow in the Alps, and the vistas were spectacular. We went to a small Biergarten on the north shore of the Staffelsee, and the view was unparalleled:

Staffelse and Alps: It doesn't get much more picturesque

Of course, it wasn't just the view that was so overwhelming—the refreshments were just as top-notch. Smoked fish, giant pretzels, and even more gigantic beers are all my middle names. Afterward we lounged in the grass, like all the other good folks who were out to enjoy a wonderful summer day.

This was dessert—the smoked fish had come first!

We lingered until after 7 p.m., when a more-traditional oompah band started playing next door, creating a perfect backdrop for our leaving. If it weren't for crutches and a still-unbendable knee my life would be pretty close to perfect—of course I wouldn't have been here since I would have been back in Lubbock since Monday. Oh well, let's not even start the what-ifs but rather be glad for what I have, and that has been a helluva lot of good stuff for the past two weeks!

Traditional sounds on the Staffelsee

And that's been my past week. In an few minutes we're going to go to Weihenstephan for a traditional Bavarian brunch of Weisswurst und Weizenbier, the local sausage with you-know-what. Tomorrow, Sabine has to go back to work, I will have PT in the late afternoon, and I may venture back into town. I'll do my exercises and try to do as much as I can to heal up. I have been able to change my return flight to the US to July 1, and I hope that with American's Special Assistance I'll manage that 24-hour day in airplanes and airports. But I won't worry about that right now: My job is to continue my recovery and be a as little of a burden to Sabine and Jonathan as possible, which is not easy when one is on crutches.

For the time being, enjoy your early summer and don't get injured!

Jürgen

My Hero: Prof. Dr. Franz Maurer, MD

On day six after my successful leg/knee surgery it is time to pay tribute to my new-found hero, Prof. Dr. Franz Maurer.

Chefarzt Prof. Dr. med. Franz Maurer, Oberschwabenklinik Ravensburg

Over the past week I have come to see a lot of Dr. Maurer, who, upon the tireless insistence of Sabine, took over my case even after I had been taken to Tettnang hospital. He was the one who operated on me last Friday morning, apparently shaking up his established surgery schedule to fix me first thing in the morning, since he deemed my case the most complex of the day. I can sing nothing but high praises. Obviously, we cannot know how the surgeons at Tettnang would have patched me up. However, it is difficult to second-guess a surgeon who not only after the surgery but after reviewing his handicraft through a CT scan later labels my chances of 100% recovery as extremely likely. This doc knows exactly what he is doing, and when I went under the knife I felt 100% confident that I could trust him.

CT scan showing my new titanium hardware—hold on, TSA, here I come!

There are great and exceptional surgeons all over the world; I've been lucky to have been taken on by someone with not only outstanding technical skills in his profession, but somebody who as a medical caretaker dispenses humor, compassion, and humanity. Every day he has made it a point to see me twice, and every time he gives me all the friendly and warm attention that I can ask for, and more. Much more. Thank you, Dr. Maurer, for not seeing me simply as yet another case but as the person who I am.

Handsome zippers

Comparative view

Multi-colored bruising

My recuperation so far has been coming along at a steady and satisfactory, albeit slow, pace. Well, when I say slow, I should probably put it all in perspective: Less than a week ago I was totally immobile, and now I am limping around on crutches, allowed to bear up to 25% of my body weight on my broken leg (about 20 kg). For a few days I have had visits by a physiotherapist who straps me to a robotic movement machine that gently mobilizes my leg to a bearable angle; when I started, I could stand maybe 20 degrees, and now the knee already allows close to 40. He has also shown me how to climb stairs with my crutches, something that will be essential once I am back in Freising in two days. On my first day out of the bed I was allowed to use the Porsche Cayenne, as they call the pictured four-wheel scooter.

Using the Porsche Cayenne

"Schnell, schnell, Schwester Brunhilde, die Maschine ist bei 125 Grad!!!!!"

I've been extremely lucky in that I have experienced essentially no pain at all. Maybe it's been the meds that I have been given, but more likely my pain receptors focus so hard on abdominal anti-thrombosis shots and the occasional drawing of blood that major pain gets tuned out. For what it's worth, initially I was given novalgin, voltaren, and arcoxia for pain management and anti-inflammation, and oral-dispensed xarelto has replaced those nuisance shots. I've reduced the pain meds to a minimum or less but keep listening to my body.

German engineering: bed-mounted crutch holders, TÜV-approved, no doubt

As I had mentioned in my last post, the staff in Tettnang were attentive, and here they are even better. They are amazing, just like the food, which could be served up in any half-decent restaurant. If you need to have an accident, make sure you're in Germany and close to Ravensburg.

Anybody for Kaffee und Erdbeer Torte for the afternoon coffee-time ritual?

Since the surgery I have been in a private room that provides more privacy (and Sabine can stay in the evening longer than 8 p.m.). The room has big, bright windows and a beautiful view; when I have my meals (now taken at the table) I look out onto trees and hills.

The view from my hospital room in Oberschwabenklinik Ravensburg

So, as you can see, in a shitty situation I am well taken care of and (almost) enjoying myself. Sabine comes over for visits in the afternoon—with some nice weather this week I told her to go for bike rides on the lake instead of hanging with this decrepit fella in the ward. Tomorrow we will go back to Bernd and Isolde's place in Wasserburg before returning to Freising on Saturday. I'm a bit apprehensive about the almost-three-hour drive, but I'll manage. Thanks to modern technology I've been in touch with friends, airlines, insurance companies, and my hometown physician—it feels good to get things done. My return to Lubbock is scheduled for July 1, so I will have a lot of time in Freising for rehab work. Recovery to where I can feel somewhat "normal" again will take around three months or more. Well, it could have been so much worse!

Thanks for reading,

Jürgen

Sailing can be more dangerous than cycling

Kleiner Blaupfeil in the Nonnenhorn harbor

In a perfect world, i.e. a world without accidents, I would be a day away from leaving for a cycling vacation in Tuscany. But since this is an imperfect world, I am a day away from surgery of my broken right shin bone and tibial plateau. Yes, that totally sucks. I better tell the story—I have the time to do so, lying here in a hospital bed in Ravensburg, Germany.

Two Folkeboote, the type we sailed, on Lake Constance

After my train ride from Berlin to Freising last Thursday, I spent Friday assembling my geared Ritchey and even managed to go for a 35-mile ride—the last one for several months to come, but I didn't know that at the time. On Saturday morning, Sabine and I left for Lake Constance (Bodensee), about 150 miles away in the south-west corner of Germany, surrounded by Austria, Switzerland, and two German states (Bavaria and Baden-Württemberg). Sabine's friends Bernd and Isolde live in the tiny hamlet of Wasserburg, and their boat lies in the even tinier harbor of Nonnenhorn, just a few klicks away. The idea was to spend a relaxed weekend of sailing as it was the weekend that a 30+ member Folkeboot group gets together for their annual sailing weekend.

Sabine and Kleiner Blaupfeil's captain, Bernd, after Saturday's excursion

Saturday's weather was gorgeous, and Bernd took Sabine and me out for a smooth reconnaissance of the immediate area. You can tell from the pictures how beautiful it was. Both of them, as well as Isolde, race together in regattas, and they are accomplished sailors. Sabine spent much time sailing the Caribbean and Polynesia on an almost identical boat back in the '80s. We spent the afternoon greeting and meeting fellow sailors, all friends of our hosts, as they sailed up from all corners of the lake. The evening was spent eating and drinking, and everybody had a blast.

Harbor master Fritz and Bernd discuss the following day's weather

Sunday the weather had changed, and the slight breeze had turned into a hard wind, with whitecaps and all. Everyone beamed! The boats (a Danish design called Folkeboot) are practically unsinkable and can be sailed hard into the wind, and the crew was having a ball, as was I. The wind lashed and the rain spat—it was a great feeling to sail. I loved it! And then, while preparing for a turn and changing positions from one side of the boat to the other, I somehow slipped and crashed my right leg into a wooden rail. I right off knew that this one was serious, not just a bump. I was still hoping that it was just a huge bruise and not a fracture, but I quickly realized that that was nothing but wishful thinking.

The calm before the storm

I dragged myself into the small cabin and tried to find a comfortable place to rest my leg while Bernd immediately smoothed out the ride and headed for the next harbor. It was not the most pleasant ride, but I managed the pain. EMS was on-site a short time after we landed, but then the ordeal of getting me out of the cabin and into the ambulance began. The emergency guys immediately assessed the severity of the injury and called for a doctor, who totally knocked me out. From what I was told later, I screamed like a stuck pig, or worse. I have no memory of any of that, just of a soothing dream in which I entered the Matrix as part of billions of ions and protons, swept away in a rushing river of similar particles, understanding the nature of the universe .... and then I was in the neon-lit emergency room, being wheeled here and there, surrounded by machines that go ping.

Post accident, hurting

You know how accidents go: One doesn't plan for them. We had planned for a fun weekend before going back to Freising, spending a few relaxed days there, and then leaving for a week in Tuscany to ride our bikes. This was supposed to be Sabine's vacation; instead she is now my handler and secretary and caretaker. The accident happened on a religious holiday (Pentecost) that continues to be celebrated on Monday as well—regular hospital staff are replaced by assistants. I had been taken to the small hospital in Tettnang, which has a good orthopedic ward, but after only a short time of talking to their friends (many of whom are employed in the medical field), Bernd, Isolde, and Sabine realized that Tettnang is good, but that Prof. Dr. Franz Maurer in Ravensburg is one of the best orthopedic surgeons in southern Germany, if not the entire country.

In Tettnang hospital, one day later

And so Sabine's quest began. Somehow she managed on Tuesday to get to meet Prof. Maurer between surgeries, armed with nothing but a CD with my x-rays and CAT scans and her disarming smile and desire to get me out of Tettnang and into his hands in Ravensburg. Somewhere she and he hit it off, and he immediately laid out a surgery and treatment plan for me. The only thing that was left was to ask the surgeon in Tettnang to transfer me to Ravensburg in a way that would not jeopardize my US insurance coverage.

It all worked.

Last night I met Prof. Maurer, a dynamic, laser-focused individual whom I liked immediately—and he obviously like me, too. Even after his long day he took more than half an hour at my bedside, talking not only about the surgery but my life in the US, differences in health care systems, challenges for hospitals and his profession, etc. It was as if we had known each other for years. Just now, while writing his post, one of his team members, Dr. Bartels, has once again come by to go with me over the surgery, possible problems, long-term issues, and the like. And then we started talking about cycling and triathlons, exchanging ideas and philosophies. Goodness me, I am being treated by humans and not robots. I couldn't ask for more.

Sabine preparing our hospital picnic—la dolce vita, almost

In all this, Sabine has been a godsend. The way she invested herself with all her energy in finding the best possible care is something I will never forget. The way Bernd and Isolde, whom I had never met, and their other friends have embraced me is humbling. I have been posting some updates on Facebook already, and I have also sent out some e-mails, and the outpouring of love from so many of all those great friends that I have all around the world is not only encouraging but uplifting and emotionally nurturing.

This is not a good situation, but then, accidents never are. I see the glass as half full, and I am optimistic. As you can tell from some of the photos, Sabine and I are trying to make the best out of the hand that we have been dealt. Things could have been better, but they could have been so much worse.

A Room With a View, and butterflies—my hospital room in Ravensburg

With this I close this entry. Sabine will post something on FB after the surgery, and I will most likely put an update on this blog as soon as I am back to normal, for those who follow me here but are not on FB. Until then, keep riding and enjoying life. You know what they say: It's not a question of whether, only a question of when. My time had come once again, and now I'm fighting back.

Jürgen

Three days in Berlin

Berlin has me back, for a few days at least. I arrived here late on Monday afternoon, and now it's already Wednesday evening again, and in another 24 hours I will be in Bavaria. But I thought I should pen a quick update as I've been having such a good time over the past 48 hours.

The iconic walking man of the Berlin traffic lights

After a great American flight—front of the bus, as has become almost norm now—I arrived in Tegel. Ah, Tegel, or TXL. More than a year ago the new Berlin airport, BER, was supposed to have opened, with much fanfare. Alas, at almost the last minute it was determined that there were significant problems with the billion-dollar airport, and there is no new opening date in sight, at least not a realistic one.  The debacle is a source of much Schadenfreude among Berliners, who love to dwell on stuff like that as it shows the incompetence of the politicians and leaders they elected. Go figure.

No beach access ....

... no problem!

Berliners are an interesting bunch. Well, Germans are, too, but Berliners are a bit different. This is a big city with an interesting history, often steeped in adversity. The people are resilient, quick thinking, but also fatalist and given to commiserating about their own fate. None of that can be easily expressed in pictures as one has to listen into conversations on the U-Bahn (the local metro) or two denizens talking over a beer in an Eckkneipe, one of the many corner pubs that still exist. I got a bit of an earful today from the elderly son of a former bike racer who checked out my bike while I was having a Maibock in Germany’s smallest brewery in Köpenick.

Maibock is a strong, seasonal beer that is smooth and kicks

While yesterday’s weather was cool and wet at times (I got caught in rain during my ride through the city center with all the must-see sights, and there are no pics), today was a gorgeous pre-summer day. Central Europeans love the sun; I remember a photo I took of Parisians lined up in chairs against a wall in the Jardin du Luxembourg. In the morning, I walked around my dad’s neighborhood in Neukölln, a melting pot of Turks, a few young Germans, more Turks, Africans, the occasional foreign student, lots more Turks, and a generous helping of old German folks like, well, my dad. You can tell who the Europeans are because they will sit in street cafes, shed layers of clothes, and sun themselves in private or not so private places. Turks, by that definition, are not Europeans.

Obviously not a Turkish citizen.... Yes, Harriett, that's a Full Monty.

OK, some of them are a bit more extreme than others, but then, WTF, right? To each his own. It makes for an interesting day, though. (Almost) Equally interesting is the amazing infrastructure for cycling that exists in the German capital. If you read my glowing report of Albuquerque’s bike paths, well, start thinking a few sizes bigger. In two days I rode about 70 miles on bike paths and bike lanes that were well maintained, featured bike-specific traffic lights, and were marked with meaningful directional signs. But that’s not all: I witnessed exactly one car disregard the right of way of a bike—one in 70 miles of urban traffic! The drivers SEE bikes! They COOPERATE with bikes! Most likely, they RIDE bikes themselves!

Not exactly Copenhagen Cycle Chic material, but they sure beat the naked guy above

Still Life with Flowers and Shopping Cart

His sign reads "Piss on Disco,"  and both sported amazing tattoos, none of them tribal.

To wrap things up: Even if visiting my dad was the main reason for stopping over in Berlin I have to admit that I feel much more alive when I am out-and-about, be it on foot on or the single-speed Ritchey that I keep here. Berlin is a dynamic city, and I really enjoy coming here and wouldn’t mind spending a few weeks exploring the city on my own schedule and terms. But for the time being, I’m damn glad that dad is still living here in Neukölln and is keeping the Ritchey.

The older of the two Ritchey siblings, steel and single speed

But then, there’s always an encore, and this blog post needs one too because Germans don’t go to a concert without clamoring for at least two “Zu-ga-bes.” So here they are: # 1 is a billboard for the Superfreak Show featuring the Super Tall Texans (whoever they may be, but I’m glad they will appear here after my departure), and #2 advertises a Paleolithic restaurant. So you don’t know what that is? Well, I didn’t either, but by carefully studying the menu I learned that all food is planned and prepared by taking into consideration the caloric and vitamin and nutrient demands that our Paleolithic ancestors encountered. Wow.

Freakshow III—yeah!

Feel the mammoth in you, can you?

After all this I hope you will sleep well. I intend to do so to flee Berlin and run off to the safe harbor of Freising, in Bavaria, where folks don’t strip down nekkid—unless they go to the local Baggersee for an after-work swim or strut around in the buff while visiting the Therme Erding. Holy Moses, why did I even bring that up? I suppose I forgot, because it is part of genetic material. G'night.

Jürgen