By Mike Jacobsen
As I gain my breath a half dozen other quad bikers are asking me if I’m ok, the pain quickly sets in and I know something is wrong. I can’t move my right arm and the right side of my chest is burning in pain. I’m able to roll my head from side to side in the sand, so I think my neck is ok and someone takes my helmet off. There is discussion about whether I’ll be able to get back on the bike and return to the rental shop. No way is that happening. One of the guides then takes off to get help.
While we’re waiting, friends take the initiative to check me out. Thank goodness there’s no bleeding. They sit me up to see if that will reduce the pain and makeshift a sling out of my jacket, not sure at this stage how I’m going leave the scene. Word eventually makes it back that an ambulance is on its way while they’ve made me as comfortable as possible by digging the sand out from under me to make a custom fit bed.
A couple hours later, after what seems like an eternity while my friends have been keeping me occupied with conversation, a 4×4 shows up with EMT’s aboard. They are from International SOS. They are well trained, equipped, knowledgeable, and friendly.
They check me out thoroughly, perform an EKG, start an IV, get me on a backboard, and load me in the back of the truck. A truck was used because the ambulance wasn’t capable of driving across the dunes. For I’m not sure how long, they slowly drive me over the dunes while I grimace in pain with every inch of movement as they take me to Cottage Medical Clinic, the nearest facility in Swakopmund.
Upon arrival the place appears closed. I’m rolled into what they would consider an ER and the lights are out with only a nurse. A doctor and radiologist have been called in and are on their way. My tour leader arrives shortly thereafter. At this stage I discover their priorities are quite different than I’m accustomed. I’m crying in pain requesting some relief and the ambulance ride wants payment for service. Will they take my travel insurance? No way! Thank goodness they take credit. I have them dig through my pocket and charge my Capital One, which is quickly declined. (I had cleared my cards ahead of time for use while here). Ok, try the Amex, same thing. Next up, the nurse wants to know how I’m going to a pay for x-rays and the clinic bill, all while laying on the ambulance gurney in the ER. No payment, no treatment. Thank goodness my tour leader is here, with her assistance I call the credit card company and jump through a dizzying array of verbal hoops to approve the charges.
Finally after paying who knows what amount, the doctor shows up and sends me for x-rays upon which he gives me some morphine. Ahhhhhh, it’s never felt so good to feel pain slide away. I’m informed I have multiple breaks in my shoulder, several ribs are broken, and will be admitted for the night. The pain is finally subsiding after hours of suffering. The tour leader does her job and brings up the topic, what’s next. The overland tour is scheduled to leave in the morning and I know there is no way I’ll be able to continue. As she makes arrangements to get my stuff, I’m pushed to my room for the night, well sedated for I don’t know what lay ahead.
If you missed it, be sure to check out Part 1 of Mike's story, and click here for Part 3. To keep up with Mike and his travels, check out his website findingflattop.com
