My grandfather got them last year, doc said it was the worst case she'd ever saw. He literally had hundreds of 5-6mm indentions in his right side, all the way up to his arm, and down to his hip, and halfway around his stomach and back. Looked like he'd been shot a few times with birdshot. Kept him down and bedbound for over a month, and he still has pretty bad scars and occasional pains.
This is my trike. There are many like it but this one is mine. My trike is my best friend, and it is my life. I must master it as I must master myself. My trike without me is useless. Without my trike, I am useless. I must ride my trike true. My trike and I know that what counts is not the amount of miles we ride, but the time we ride together. My trike is human in it's own ways, therefore I will learn it as my brother. I will learn it's weaknesses, it's strengths, it's parts, and it's soul.