I’ve heard working as an orthopedic surgeon is oftentimes compared with working as a carpenter. Joining bones instead of boards. The time I had some pins in my hand from my broken thumb, having them removed sure felt like I was on the floor of Home Depot or something. Simply pulling them straight from my flesh (and bone) with a pair of pliers wasn’t exactly my idea of “surgery”.
Well, as we all can all probably recall working on bikes has been compared to working on bodies; kind of like being a doctor. Having a busted bike is like being a patient, especially if you don’t know what’s wrong with it.
In my short time at the shop, I’ve seen enough worried and confused faces to know that your bike malfunctioning is more than just a broken machine, it’s a injured best friend. This is why you’ve come to Admissions: those first twenty feet inside the shop is the examination room, the triage area. This is where we take a look and hear about the injured bike’s symptoms. “Your brakes aren’t working, we’ll take a look, is there anything else we should examine? Any problems it exhibits while riding? Any issues with shifting?” Maybe just a check-up, “If anything major crops up, we’ll give you a call.” Not to worry, the next step for your friend is the work stand: the ICU if you will. If you’re lucky there’s room over in the “waiting room” near the coffee machine and the beer fridge; and there’s never any need for turning your head and coughing.
“What’s the prognosis, Dr Moore?” Symptoms, examination, triage, diagnosis, ICU, snapping on the rubber gloves! How many bike shops think about bikes this way I wonder?
Considering the package we received at the shop the other day by mistake from Group Health, maybe we’re not the only ones confusing ourselves with doctors: “Incorrect bike fit making your back hurt, don’t adjust—medicate with opiates!”
And as for those self-medicaters out there, part two to wheel-building is definitely coming around soon. It is actually in the works!
Just remembered one more connection to the medical field; counting out spokes and especially nipples always makes me feel like I’m a pharmacist.