Car Trouble Part 1

I've not been backward in saying how much bits of me hurt and been vague about the source of that pain so I thought today I'd be just plain self indulgent and tell you how close to death I have been. Not through drugs or booze, not where if I'd been there sort of thing, but literally 3' 6". That's about the distance from my knee to my head.
I started out life as a Metallurgist with BHP (I'll give you a minute to google what that is). I began on Dec 10th 1984, 14 days after my final school exam. I along with a cohort of similarly misguided individuals, studied and worked in the BHP Port Kembla Slab and Plate Product Division. 'The steelworks' as we all knew it. Patrick McMahon and Mark Lowe are friends of mine. We met on course and although never worked in the same departments, spent social and college time together.
One day at college in the winter of 1986, it was suggested by one of us  that we take a 'sickie' on the Friday and venture up to Perisher Valley ski fields for a weekend. A 'sickie' is where we call in and use a sick day. Pretty self explanatory I know. Perisher was a 3 or 4 hour drive so it decided because I had a nice quick V8 Rover SDI hatchback at the time, we would take my car.
The trip up was not memorable because I don't remember it.
My most vivid recollection after all these years is standing at the top of what can only be described as a cliff with Pat and Mark. What they had in skill, I had in stupidity. It was a great mix. We had been skiing for not very long as I can recall but found ourselves all standing at the top of an incline looking down over a practically perfect white valley that narrowed to a run down through century old eucalyptus trees. The collar of trees either side framing this most picturesque scene perfectly.
"Straight Down - No turns"
Mark said it. Pat was nodding and chewing his lips in semi agreement. I'm not one to wait for others so with a simple turn of my skis, began the decent. I tipped over the edge and felt the speed quickly grab hold. If you've never skied, I'd ask you to take an ice cube and sit it on your kitchen bench. Propel the cube with a flick of your finger. That is skiing except the finger is gravity and the kitchen bench is planed super smooth. I looked fabulous I must say. We were all flush and had the latest winter garb, good gear and were shit hot on the slopes. As I bent my knees and formed a tuck to get the most speed I could, It dawned upon me that I was probably exceeding my abilities. Well, not probably but was. Its cool though, you learn from these experiences. You may remember I used the word 'practically perfect' to describe the condition of the snow field. That could be defined as imperfect then I suppose. Well it was.
A single skier had previously traversed the slope. When I hit those tracks at the perpendicular, it was enough to unsettle my supersonic tuck and this is where it got really interesting. I lost it. If you've ever heard the term arms and legs akimbo! that was me. But you don't get hurt falling in snow luckily, you tumble and roll as your pride gets chipped away only to come to a gentle rest. That is if there isn't a big fucking tree in the way that is. I had for some reason veered in my dismount and hit the tree sideways knees first and wrapped around it, essentially ring barking it. I'm not sure of I was ever unconscious but I don't remember anything until Pat and Mark arrived. Looking down at me with really scared faces.
"we thought you were dead man"
I wasn't. I was on my back, my legs out in front resting in soft snow at the base of the tree. I hurt but was OK. phew that was close. I had pain in my knee but wanted to stand up. I moved my torso in a twisting action to turn to get up but my left leg from my knee down didn't move. My thigh was twisting over but not the lower leg. I remember looking and that and thought to myself, how can that be possible? I'm pretty sure that's when the pain hit and lets just say it was substantial.
One of the guys went searching for search and rescue whilst one stayed. Its a bit foggy because it hurt like fuck now. Eventually, 2 tanned, sun-glass wearing professional snow field rescue workers arrived with the 'blood bucket'. Its the sled with handles projecting forward and back that they ski down the hill with the patient strapped in. They used a back board and got me onto the bucket. That downhill run was freaky too lets say.
At the base of the valley we were in, was a Toyota Hiux 4x4 ute. The lifted me still in the bucket and loaded me onto the tray and Mark was also designated to tray travel as they both got in the cabin. Those movies where the rescuer sits beside the victim and tells them its all gonna me OK are bullshit. It was too freaking cold so they were in the cab. The trip back to the medical centre was only a few kilometers. I'd soon be in the warmth and get some pain relief. The Hilux lurched forward and started its climb up the steep rocky sloped vehicle track and it was about then as the blood bucket started sliding backwards off the back with me still strapped in that it was noted they hadn't actually attached restraints. Mark tried to grab me as I slid backwards and arrested my motion somewhat but he couldn't hold me alone. I reached back and grabbed the headboard rail but it wanted to go and gravity was hungry for me again. We were yelling out to the driver but they were oblivious. I shit ye not, we held on for what seemed an eternity until the ute finally crested the hill and started down towards the town.
I was unloaded into the Perisher Valley Private Medical Centre. I'm not sure anyone ever noticed the irony in the word 'Perisher' for a dangerous and hostile place let alone their medical facility.
"Good morning sir, you are in the hospital now and safe"
"oh thank goodness for that, its been terrifying for me"
"Do you have any means with which to pay for the services should we agree to treat you?"
"oh, OK, you mean yes I can afford it, I can"
"May I please have your credit card sir?"
I had someone poke me and make sure I wasn't going to die and as they undressed me I was amazed at how much tree bark was inside every layer of clothing. Seriously, as each layer came off so did handfuls of  garden mulch. I was given drugs and moved to the waiting room with advice to seek medical attention back in Wollongong where I lived. The word waiting turned out to be a very accurate term. Both Pat and Mark had decided that I would be ages, we had only been on the slopes for an hour or so when the tree so rudely interrupted us. They were no where to be seen and as it became evident, had returned to the ski lifts to make full use of their lift tickets.
Eventually, they returned, surprised to see me lying there.
"How long you been waiting?"
"Get the car, here are my car keys"
I recall them then arguing for some time as to who would drive back seeing as they both had an exhausting day on the slopes. I think it was about 5 or 6 pm by this stage. I didn't care who drove my car but someone had to. They loaded me into the back seat and it was decided they'd share the drive back (brain surgeons yes they were) and I distinctly recall telling them both the following;
"check the water, it has a slight leak in the radiator"
with that, I took more drugs and fell into a drug induced coma for the return trip. That car was supersonic too. We were home pretty quickly and they dropped me and the car off at home and I was helped inside. Dad ending up taking me to hospital where after some scans they discovered I had snapped ever ligament that joined my upper and lower legs. The ones outside the knee and inside the knee were all frazzled beyond repair. It was fucked essentially but I knew it by then. One Ortho surgeon opened me up but then closed it  just as quickly saying its the worst he's seen and can't fix it. Specialist Ortho Surgeon 2 in Sydney ended up stripping the sinew off the back of my calf muscle and drilling some holes in my bones and doing a cub scout trick knot with the sinew and stapled it to me thigh bone to hold it all together. I could walk about 3 months later I think. After calling in sick for just one day, I ended up being off work for 6 months with my leg in a big metal brace for 2 months. Its still stuffed really.
What about the radiator I hear you say.
They didn't check the water  at all. They cooked the motor. Eventually when I got to the car parked out the front for the weeks afterwards, it ran really badly and the points were a swirl of purple cooked metal. It would have to go as well but not til I could get to physio and get that sorted. This is where Car Trouble Part 2 starts in a following post.
With the damage the impact did to my knee, I know if it had been my head, Id'd have been dead in that snow drift. I was lucky that day, my beloved car not so.