Warning: This post will contain descriptive elements of physical harm I have been through, caused by gravity and the laws of physics. It’s also long for a blog post. Enjoy!
The first incident
The bad run for me started in late October 2025. Our family, along with another family, went to a caravan park for the school holidays, as we sometimes do. The kids enjoy riding around on scooters, and a few years ago I’d bought a couple of electric scooters from JB Hi-Fi going out cheap. We’d ridden them several times without incident before.
This time was different, and I am glad it was myself rather than one of the kids. I was cruising in a straight line down the road, and thought I’d see how fast they went. They’re capped out at 25km/hr and when you’re on a scooter with just a helmet to protect you, that feels fairly fast and exposed. I stopped accelerating and started to let it just roll, and thought to look back to see where everyone was. I couldn’t see, so I looked back harder, twisting my shoulders in the process. It was at this moment that either the balance change, or a small pebble on the road, made the scooter immediately fall under me. I flew over the handlebar which felt like slow motion in my mind with the thought ‘this is happening’ as an acceptance of the predicament I found myself in.
I hit the ground with my right shoulder/arm and proceeded to tumble. I tumbled once, I tumbled twice, and prepared to land and get up, but instead the momentum took me for a third tumble. I landed pretty cleanly, and despite feeling a bit knocked about and a little winded, felt like I did a good job of the fall. A passer by asked if I was OK, and I said that I was as I got up, walked to the side of the road and then had a little lie down. I knew I’d hit several parts of my right side but no body part was in excruciating pain and everything appeared to still be moving.
After a few moments I got up and started to walk the electric scooter back to the accommodation. My arm felt a bit dead, and more feelings of ache crept into my body. After reporting the incident to my wife, I thought I just needed a bit of rest.

I started to experience random spasms in my arm which made me yell out in pain. The deadness in my arm (along with the several other numb and aching areas of my body) was similar to how I felt after getting hit by a car a few years back, so I assumed all I needed was some physio and time to recover. This happened on a Saturday, and I was back home Monday when I went to see a physio about it. I couldn’t really rotate my arm being being in ‘handshake mode’ and I assumed this was due to the muscles locking up post-incident.
The physio did a few initial checks on my still dead arm, and came to the conclusion that there was a chance my arm was broken and I should go get X-rays before she worked on it. I booked an appointment and drove to the radiology place nearby. The X-ray revealed a fracture in my arm, and that I needed to go to hospital. I then drove to the hospital and was eventually triaged to go to a nearby clinic who could treat me. After getting to that clinic and having them look at the X-ray to confirm that yes it was fractured, because of where it was (Radial Head), all I could do was put it in a sling and rest it for a few weeks. It was at that point I felt rather light headed, realising this was the first time I’d broken a bone and that I actually wasn’t invincible, but instead a frail human just like everyone else. After gathering myself, I went home to feel sorry for my predicament.
I wondered how I was going to work – and in reality, I couldn’t do much. I couldn’t type, or use a mouse. My arm had to be rested in the sling for up to 5 weeks. After a week, I found that I had an old ergonomic trackball and I could hold that against my chest to drive a mouse, and type left handed. Surprisingly it worked reasonably well and I could at least do most elements of my job again. Over the next few weeks my arm eventually recovered to full function, albeit occasional small elbow pains and not really being able to lean on that elbow as things internally seem to have shifted.
The Second Incident
I thought the worst was behind me and now I could get back into everything. It was the start of February 2026 – I’d just started to get back into Badminton before the crash (only one game!) and my arm seemed well enough to get into it. I’d sold the escooters on Facebook and forbid their usage by myself or any family member. These actions however, did not protect me from the second incident.
It was ~4am when my eldest son woke me up, standing next to my bed. If you’ve been woken up by a child before this way, it is a horrific way to be woken up (at least for me it is), as you’re violently woken into a scenario that needs action. This particular night-terror was a blood nose that wouldn’t stop. Holding a bunch of bloodied tissues to his face, my son didn’t know what to do. I ushered him back to his room and grabbed a frozen face mask from the freezer to put on his head and cool him down. I went out of the room and cleaned the trail of blood he’d created on his journey to my bedroom. When I got back, he had a new wad of bloodied tissues and said with major concern ‘Why won’t it stop?’ while taking the tissues off his nose again. I grabbed the bloodied tissues and reassured him it would stop, and that he just needed to cool down, rest, and give it some time.
It was as this moment that I felt a slight tinge of light headedness. Maybe a 1/10 on the scale, similar to the feeling you might get if you are lying down and get up too fast. I dismissed it, and rushed out of the room to remove the item from my son’s sight to hopefully help the stress level. I stepped out of the room…
Then I was dreaming. I can’t remember the dream, but it was a quick one. It was also a dream where you were coming out of it and knew you were dreaming, so I thought I must have gone back to sleep. I opened my eyes. I could see the tiles outside my son’s room. Except, there was blood on them. I’d already cleaned the blood though, did I miss this somehow? And why was I looking down on it? I went to bend back up, only to realise that I was not standing. I was instead lying on the ground. I got up and saw a lot more blood. It was all over me. I looked back to my son’s room and he was standing at the door. He asked ‘Are you OK?’ and I said I didn’t know (later I would learn that he heard me fall, came out to see me convulsing on the ground, then snoring – for maybe 20 seconds). I staggered back to my room where I turned on the light and exclaimed to my wife ‘Something bad happened!’. I still had no idea what events had even occurred. Did I have a heart attack? The shock was setting in.
I lied back on the bed, feeling my face was numb but not sore. I must have just hit my head. My wife ran off to get me something frozen to put on my face and clean up the blood. When she came back, I was definitely in shock with my body shaking uncontrollably, like a shiver that kept coming and going. I’d worked out that a lot of the blood was above my left eye, so that’s where I was holding the ice pack – except it was now dripping down my face again. My wife made the call that we needed to go to the hospital, so she woke up her mother to look after the kids while we drove off to get me fixed up.
At the hospital, I was triaged again. This time they just put a big bandage over my eyebrow, got me a hospital bed, and I waited in the waiting room trying to work out what was going on, along with my supportive wife. We’d got to the conclusion that I’d blacked out and smashed my face onto the tiles that go throughout our house. I’d always had a bit of an aversion to suffering associated with blood – I’d had plenty of blood noses in my life and those didn’t worry me much. What did worry me was injections, having blood taken, or seeing others struggling with simple medical procedures. I remember one time at a hospital helping my mum with an emergency back issue. I was watching someone who had to have an injection in their stomach. They were freaking out about it. I started to get light headed and break out in a sweat. I had to get a nurse to provide me a bed as I was about to faint at what I saw, which was more about the person suffering than a simple injection. We weren’t even at the hospital for me! Rather embarassing.
It took 7 hours of waiting in the hospital’s waiting room before I was seen by a doctor. After an ECG test that showed everything was fine, they had a look at my main wound. A gaping hole above my eye, which I could not bear to think about. I was beside myself having this injury, caused by something I didn’t feel I could control – a complete blackout. I’d never blacked out in my life before either, so this was a new one. The doctor’s shock reaction upon seeing the wound didn’t help, as she poured antiseptic in to prevent infection. My wife had a look at what was going on and exclaimed ‘Wow!’ – where I begged her to not react or say anything more. I couldn’t cope with this. She took a photo and remained silent. I would later discover that her ‘Wow’ was due to being able to see the top of my eyeball moving around through the wound. Something I am glad I wasn’t aware of at the time, and I still struggle with the concept now. She has that photo still for anyone interested to see. Personally, I have declined this offer.
As the doctor could see I wasn’t coping, she organised laughing gas for me. Another first – I was a bit nervous on taking it but I needed help. After breathing it in, I did calm down. Under the effects of Nitrous Oxide, I found I couldn’t focus on the 1 problem we were dealing with, but instead I was aware of everything going on. I could hear people talking in the next room, and I started cracking jokes. I was fully aware of what I was saying and events occurring, but I didn’t care as much on how I was seen or the stitches that were now being fed through my eyebrow. That is, until I realised that hadn’t happened yet and a needle that felt very close to my eyeball, full of anaesthetic, was being pushed into me. As I thought my eyeball was about to get pierced by stitches I freaked out again, but then eventually calmed down a bit and exclaimed that ‘I was a big boy now’.
Stitches done, and having to sadly hand the gas back after a few last puffs, I grew concerned again. That was my major wound done – but I’d have to have the stitches taken out later. How bad would the scar be? That part didn’t bother me too much. What did bother me was another medical procedure in my near future, shaped by a past where I had 42 staples in my leg that were removed one by one with large amounts of pain (but this stitch removal turned out to be a painless non event!). There was also something else – my teeth.
Somewhere in the above story, I’d also realised that I’d smashed my teeth. Again they didn’t hurt, but the fear of how they would be reconstructed was sitting heavy with me. The day after my hospital visit, I went to the dentist. Still very shaken from the events so far, I received another anaesthetic and had my front 2 teeth reconstructed with filling. It’d get me by for the short term, but I’d need more work done later. Again, dentistry work sits in the zone of ‘I don’t like that at all and I’m starting to freak out thinking about it’. The dentist visit wasn’t particularly painful but I was still worried about what I’d have to go through in the future. Plus, my bite had changed. I couldn’t chew food like I could before, as my teeth hit in a different spot. After a week of not being able to chew like the good old days, I went back and had the teeth ground back to improve my bite. That seemed to sort it until I organise the bigger work required.
All this happend on a Thursday/Friday. After the weekend, I went back to work. Sure I was feeling sorry for myself, bandaged up, but physically I could work. I started on the Monday morning and had a good hour or two. Then I started getting light headed, scared, and upset. I wasn’t really sure why this was happening. I took the rest of the day off and went to see my doctor the next morning. I found out that I had a concussion also, which I didn’t even think about (add this to the list of firsts).
As per the University of Queensland:
Signs of concussion
Doctors look for the following signs in someone suspected of suffering from concussion:
- Confusion and inability to speak coherently
- Disorientation (e.g. unaware of time and place)
- Lack of co-ordination (e.g. stumbling, inability to walk in a straight line)
- Loss of memory (e.g. about the causative event)
- Slurred speech
- Delayed response to questions
- Appearing dazed or with a vacant stare
- Inappropriate emotion (e.g. crying for no reason)
- Any temporary loss of consciousness
Symptoms of concussion
People who have sustained a concussion may also report the following symptoms:
- Headache or a feeling of pressure in the head
- Confusion or difficulty concentrating
- Dizziness
- Changes in vision (e.g. ‘seeing stars’)
- Ringing in the ears
- Nausea and vomiting
- Fatigue
- Sensitivity to light
- Loss of smell or taste
Oh, I was ticking a lot of those boxes. I had this weird unsettled stomach feeling. I knew I was thinking and responding slower than normal. I had difficulty concentrating. I was highly emotional about it all.
I was also struggling with what happened. I blacked out and did this much damage to myself. How could I prevent it? If I got up in the night, I was in fear that it’d just happen again. I learnt from my doctor that I really needed to just rest my brain and eyes to recover, and it could take up to a month. I had some time off work again to do this, but it probably took that month before I started feeling close to normal again. I had to be gentle with my head as I could feel it wasnt right, like my brain was bruised. I missed out on go-karting for my son’s birthday because of it.
How Am I Now?
It’s been 2 months since Incident 2, and I’m mostly OK again. I still get worried about moving around at night, and if I need to deal with blood from my sons (which is almost a daily occurrence one way or anther without exaggeration) I take things carefully. I have this underlying concern that I could just back out at any time beyond my control, but I think about that less as time progresses. My teeth still need proper fixing, and my eyebrow scar often stings with pain (which makes me feel a bit like Harry Potter and his lightning bolt scar). My face has changed, my bite has changed, my elbow has changed, my mind has changed. But change is inevitable, sometimes good, sometimes bad, and sometimes just different. I wanted to note down my story as a bit of therapy – there is something cathartic about noting things of concern for me. There is no other choice but to continue on and make the most of everything.
Family, friends, life.






