By Amy Morfas
Degloved is both a story of tragedy and hope. When Boulder athlete Adelaide Perr headed out for a bike ride in October of 2014, she had no idea that her life was about to be forever changed. A few miles into her ride, a car pulled directly into her path, with no chance of her stopping in time. Adelaide crashed into and through the driver’s window, face first. It’s a situation no cyclist would ever wish to find themselves in. And most frustrating, one that easily could have been prevented with more attentive and careful driving.
Amy Morfas is a free lance writer, avid cyclist residing in Boulder. She was the former Deputy Director for Bicycle Colorado and has served on the board of several bike advocacy groups and non-profits
The book journeys through her time in the hospital, spent entirely in the ICU unit. Almost all of her injuries were to her face, with the most severe injury being that her lip had been peeled back, or degloved, from her left nostril to her clavicle. This required 700 stitches, and to prevent her upper lip tissue from dying, they applied leeches to it daily to suck blood and rejuvenate the flesh. Yes, leeches.
She had additional injuries to her eye socket, nose, broken teeth and more. It’s a grim laundry list by anyone’s standards.
But as challenging as the physical injuries were, the crash took a severe mental toll on both Adelaide and her now-husband Kennett. Adelaide suffers from bipolar disorder and very bravely shares the details of what that means in her (their) day-to-day life.
Adelaide and Kennett both also suffer from PTSD since the crash. Competitive (and professional) athletes, walking away from the bike wasn’t an option either of them would or could afford. Each ride brought on frustration, fear, and anxiety. And Adelaide’s bipolar condition only intensified the PTSD symptoms, straining their relationship.
Having not been exposed to bipolar personally, it was difficult to completely understand the rollercoaster of emotions that is her, and thus her husband’s, life. I struggled to relate to it, which made me think of the greater divisions in our country right now and how we all live in our bubbles. Having not experienced mental illness, or having been intimately exposed to it, it was hard to understand. While reading, I felt compassion, yet lacked full comprehension of the situation for it to be completely relatable for me.
Once Adelaide was home again, she continued to fight towards recovery, with many setbacks along the way. What would be a blip under normal circumstances took on another life in terms of emotions and coping mechanisms. Plus, there was the additional stress medical bills piling up and the strain of working your way through the legal system. It sounded exhausting, and I have no doubt it was. She also openly shared her experience of working with therapists to get through the ups and downs.
Like Adelaide, I live in Boulder and am also a cyclist, so I am another vulnerable road user. I’ve ridden the roads she describes in the book hundreds of times, and her crash is the stuff of my nightmares. I also worked in bicycle advocacy for many years, so while tragic, sadly this story is not new to me. We need drivers to pay more attention to their main job while on the road, namely driving, to eliminate crashes like this with lifelong impacts on the victims.
Adelaide is a strong, brave woman who continues to fight. With a ton of support from her husband, family and friends, she’s working to regain a new normal life, and one that will still include the joy of riding a bicycle. Her recovery and story could serve as an inspiration to anyone recovering from a traumatic incident, whether bicycle-related or not.
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