I found out on the radio about his multiple trauma.
A motorcycle accident, on July 7, 2022.
Where was?
I was going down Calvet, the street that takes me to my work at RAC1.
Was the bike big?
A 125 cc scooter. I was a father and had retired my 600 cc motorcycle: “If I have an accident, let it not be because of me,” he told me.
What time was it?
4:40 in the morning.
Was he driving fast?
At 60 km/hour.
What happened?
A look in the rearview mirror, at the taxi that was coming from behind. I looked forward again and I couldn’t stop.
Curb?
I saw a van crossed in my lane, exiting a side street on the left.
Was there a traffic light at that intersection?
The delivery van was looking for an address… and had missed it on red.
And it crashed.
Against his right side at the top. I got stamped. If it had crashed on the nose, it would have flown over him and he would have had less trauma.
Did you lose consciousness?
No. Back on the ground, I saw the hair salon on the corner and the traffic light…
Pain?
Terrifying, it was difficult for me to breathe. The handlebars burst my spleen.
What did?
To see if I would be disabled, I tried moving my arms and feet.
Did he move them?
Yes, and I wanted to get up. Impossible! The pain was incapacitating me. The hip was broken, I found out later, and I had many ribs broken in various places: “costal volet.”
What did you hear?
The driver of the van who sobbed “don’t die, don’t die.”
And then?
Ambulance, stretcher, hallways of the Clinic, fluorescent lights from the ceiling, unbearable pain, my partner arrives: “I’m alive,” I tell him. Emergency operating room, twelve toilets…
Take your polytrauma inventory.
Double bill of the left hip. Broken all the ribs on the left side in several places. Broken left scapula. Damaged left lung, and then it shrank until it almost disappeared…
Much pain?
Coughing brought excruciating pain. He has nine titanium plates in his ribs, on the outside I look like a good seam…
How do you support all this?
My marathons trained me to suffer: I lasted a month in the ICU. I thought about Cruyff: not to sink and go out on the attack.
What does it mean to live without a spleen?
Less defenses, I must get vaccinated more.
What was the worst?
Not seeing my five-year-old son for that entire month. I preferred him not to see me like that.
And physically?
After five weeks bedridden, an infection sent me back to the ICU for three days.
Lowdown.
And I almost lost my lung. And fluid in the pleura: operating room again to drain, ten days! The second time I got depressed.
Did they help you with drugs?
Thank goodness, yes! At some point I had brutal, hyper-realistic dreams, because of the fentanyl?: I closed my eyes and I was in a David Lynch movie and I saw dragons!
What worried you most of all?
“How will I be?” I asked the doctors. I had only one goal…
Which?
Hold my son in my arms, again. Play together. As before.
He has passed tough tests.
I have experienced old age in advance: not taking care of yourself even to shit… Thank you, nurses and assistants, thank you!
What else have you learned?
The wonderful thing is normal life! I didn’t appreciate her until she failed me. Today Yes. Today I can go to the bathroom at will! And without pain. I have been born again. Same for the radio.
For the radio?
Something affected a nerve and my tongue became crooked. I couldn’t speak well. I panic! “My radio career is over,” I thought… Four months later it was fixed, phew.
What is radio for you?
My life. Since I was nine years old, I accompanied my mother to radio booths, because she was a program producer.
What is your life like now, Joan Lluís?
Slower, more conscious, better!
Have you taken the motorcycle again?
One day I picked it up and walked around the block from our house to see if it was capable. And then I parked it: I will never take it again.
Have you played with your child again?
As before! I’m happy!
