The cycle of learning

When I was a teenager, I stepped on a banana skin. Until that point I had no idea banana skins were actually slippery. I'd viewed them as fictional comedy props that never really worked properly, like itching powder and invisible ink. The same as those cartoons where errant cyclists flew over the handlebars. How I laughed. I was even laughing after I flew over the handlebars of my own bike in Lewes this week. My biggest regret was not catching the moment on camera.

It was, you'll be pleased to hear, my fault. Well, I was in a hurry. I wasn't early enough to catch the bus from Ringmer, so I was pedalling frenetically down Southover Road and then stopped too quickly. All of a sudden I was flying through the air and doing an impromptu handstand while my bicycle caught up. "Are you alright?" asked a concerned passer-by. Much to my surprise, I was. I continued to my meeting, had a strong cup of tea (for medicinal purposes only) and cycled home.

Unfortunately the combination of tea and adrenaline eventually ran out. An uncomfortable ache in my left hand became evident. Torn between suffering the pain of my cycling injury and the pain of waiting behind dozens of more-deserving patients in Brighton's Accident & Emergency department, I asked my wife for advice. "Why don't you go to the Minor Injury Unit in Lewes?"

This was a revelation. What a wonderful resource. Although I knew the Lewes Victoria Hospital was there on Nevill Road, I'd not realised it was happy if you wandered in without an appointment. But wander I did. This time I travelled on the 28 bus, which turned out to be a wise choice. After a spot of form-filling at the hospital I was soon seen by ‘Sister’, who gently prodded me, noticed me flinch and sent me off for an x-ray. A few minutes of Bargain Hunt on the TV in reception passed the time adequately before my hand was irradiated. Back to Sister, who'd spotted a worrying line on one of the photographs. Perhaps a scaphoid fracture, she said, perhaps not. But better safe than sorry. She plastered my wrist and part of my arm, booking a consultation for me at the Brighton fracture clinic. They'd take a closer look, possibly with an MRI scan.

The reason for the caution, I was told, was that the damage could affect blood flow to the bone... which in turn could cause problems with my thumb. And, as Sister pointed out, it's our thumbs that set us apart from other animals. Too true, I thought, as I strolled back to the bus stop. Without a thumb I'd be no more use than a cat. And what chance was there of a cat ever writing this column?

First published on vivalewes.com 5th September 2013: http://www.vivalewes.com/the-cycle-of-learning/