- While walking with her husband, Janet was crushed beneath a 20-metre section of wooden fencing after a powerful gust of wind caused it to collapse
- She escaped with the help of her husband Brett before doctors discovered she had suffered nine fractures to her pelvis
- After weeks in hospital, months of physiotherapy and learning to walk again, Janet achieved her goal of returning to cycling
Here Janet Stark, 56, from Hanmer Springs, NZ tells her own story in her own words
Wind whipping the hair from my face, I hurried along the footpath.
It was around 10am one day in January this year, and I was out walking with my husband, Brett, 59.
Despite the windy weather in Hanmer Springs, NZ, we were determined to finish our 4km loop.
‘Let’s take a video to send to the kids,’ I cried over the roaring wind.
Grabbing my phone, we filmed a short video of our hair flying madly in the huge gusts, and sent it to Zak, 28, and Petra, 24.
Spying some dropped branches from big trees ahead, we chose to cut the walk short.
Taking a short cut down a road towards home, past a row of houses, a huge gust of wind blew.
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One moment I was beside Brett. The next, I was lying on my left side, being crushed by an unimaginable weight.
Dazed, I struggled to piece together what was happening while splintering pain radiated through my pelvis.
As I tried to turn my head, I realised I’d been pinned to the ground by large wooden planks.
Then it dawned on me – the towering 1.8-metre-high wooden fence we’d been walking past had fallen on top of me.
I hadn’t heard a crack, just the howl of the wind.
Now, I was being crushed like a pancake under the enormous weight.
‘Help!’ I yelled.
‘I’m getting you out,’ Brett called frantically, pulling upwards with all his might against the 20-metre section of fence.
But he was barely able to lift it, and when he loosened his hold on the fence, the weight bore down on my right hip again.
‘My pelvis!’ I gasped.
I’d never known pain like it. It felt like I’d burst apart like a piñata.
‘I’m going to lift it again. You need to drag yourself forward,’ Brett instructed.
Feeling battered and bruised, I wasn’t sure I could muster the strength.
It’s my only chance to get free, I told myself.
‘Now!’ Brett cried, managing to inch the fence up enough for me to grip the curb of the road with my fingertips, and pull myself forward.
‘Clear!’ he yelled as I slid out of harm’s way.
Agony pulsing through me, and with Brett puffing from the exertion, we suddenly found we were surrounded by strangers.
‘I’ve called an ambulance,’ Brett said.
Someone cradled my head while another fetched a pillow and blanket.
Thankfully, 15 minutes later, help arrived. A nurse gave me pain relief and an IV for fluids, as medics fitted me onto a transfer board to keep me still.
‘What’s your pain, 1-10?’ one asked.
I felt like screaming 1000!
‘Ten,’ I groaned.
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Brett’s face pinched with worry as I was loaded into the ambulance.
He stayed behind to tell the kids, who were back at home, what’d happened, while I made the two-hour journey to Christchurch Hospital.
Admitted to the orthopaedic ward, I was taken in for X-rays and an MRI to assess the damage.
Before long, my family were there to see me.
‘You’ve suffered nine fractures to your pelvic ring,’ the doctor said.
I also had a puncture wound in my left elbow – from the gravel on the road when I fell.
Thankfully they didn’t require surgery.
‘If you’d hit your head, your husband hadn’t freed you, or your hip muscles were weaker, you could have suffered injuries you might not have survived,’ he added, explaining that shards of pelvic bone could have pierced my vital organs.
I was shocked, but told I just had to rest and heal.
‘You won’t be able to cycle,’ Petra pointed out.
A cycling education specialist for 10 years, I was happiest in the saddle.
Now, I couldn’t even sit up in bed.
‘I’m going to ride again, don’t worry,’ I promised.
After five days of bed rest, I started occupational therapy and physiotherapy.
Working hard to regain my strength, I progressed from sitting up to swinging my legs out of bed and into a wheelchair.
In my hardest moments, I thought of how I longed to ride again.
But there were days when I felt really down, including my 35th wedding anniversary.
Normally Brett and I would venture out on a long ride together. Instead, we were cooped up in hospital.
But Petra, Zak and his wife Iona, and Brett were amazing, visiting whenever they could and encouraging me when I was down.
After 17 days in hospital, I finally returned home in a wheelchair.
Six weeks later, I progressed to a walker as my pelvis healed.
And by mid-March I was using crutches.
Come April, I could walk unassisted. My first steps were wobbly, but felt unreal.
‘You’ll be riding again in no time,’ my local physio cheered.
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I started riding on the stationary bike at home.
At first, I struggled to sit on it. Soon, I progressed to a few pedals, and then a few metres.
Later that month, wanting to push myself, I pedalled a bike around our cul-de-sac.
‘Amazing!’ Petra and Brett cheered.
It felt like a miracle.
Since then, I’ve been back on the bike for longer rides.
And recently, Brett and I cycled over 30kms.
I couldn’t believe it.
Brett really is my Superman.
Now that I’m back in the saddle, nothing can stop me!
Follow Janet’s journey at facebook.com/gobikenzwithjanet
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