One Small Step

Safety Tip

Holiday traffic often presents additional challenges on the road. Check your emergency kit. Contents should include: battery powered radio, flashlight, blanket, jumper cables, fire extinguisher, first aid kit, bottled water, non-perishable foods, maps, tire repair kit and flares.  Be aware of changes in weather. Weather conditions across the U.S. will be changing - especially during early mornings and evenings with the cold. Watch for ice, snow and other weather related obstacles. Keep your eyes on the road. Distracted driving is a major cause of traffic accidents. Even just two seconds of distraction time doubles the chances of an accident. Use your cell phone when stopped and never text while driving.  Leave early and avoid risks. Leave early so you won't be anxious about arriving late and to accommodate delays. Road conditions may change due to inclement weather or traffic congestion. Remember these safety steps and ensure a safe and enjoyable holiday season.

One Small Step

Smiling and cheerful the occupational therapist returned to my room the next morning. 

“Well are you ready,” she asked with a smile. “Are you ready to try walking?”

I mustered as much enthusiasm as I could and said “Why not?”

“I’m going to be right here to help you.” She said.

At that moment I was filled with both excitement and fear. I was excited because this marked the turn that would hopefully lead me back to a solid state of health. I felt fear because I knew there would be pain involved - lots of it! 

“Honey, are you ready for this?” my wife asked nervously.

“May as well be,” I said.

The therapist moved around the bed as she spoke.  She positioned the walker she had brought in near my bed and ensured that the IV lines were free and clear of obstructions as I prepared moved.

“We are going to take this nice and slow,” she said. “Do you think you can stand?”

“I can try,” I said.

We decided that it would be best to work my way off the right side of the bed and I started shifting in that direction. I quickly realized that I had very little control of the muscles from my right pelvis down and every movement resulted in jolts of pain.

“Let me help you,” she said as she supported and guided the injured led over the side of the bed. “We are going to take it very slow, OK”.

Using the hanging trapeze over the bed, I worked my good leg and the rest of my body to a sitting position on the bed’s edge. I was surprised at the amount of effort it had taken to do this normally simple movement.

“Ok, we are just going to stand up if you could,” the therapist said, “if you can’t that’s alright. Let me know when you are ready.” She explained how to grip the walker and support my weight with my arms and the good leg. I noticed that my fear was starting to dissipate. I had felt the pain and I knew there would be more, but I also felt that I was making progress and the feeling of accomplishment was motivating.

“I’m ready,” I said.

She positioned herself to help steady the walker and support me as I lifted myself off the bed to a full standing posture.

“Can you take a few steps?” she asked excitedly as she praised my accomplishment.  “Let’s try to walk to the closet door if you can”.

“I think I can do that,” I replied.

Using my newly acquired skills, I slid the walker forward, lifted myself with my arms and stepped forward with my good leg. Making it to the closet, I reversed the motion to get myself back to the bed.  As I eased myself back to the sitting position I endured the pains of moving the injured side of my body and listened as the therapist explained the techniques of extending the leg out and supporting by body weight with my arms as I sat. Once on the bed and feeling as if I had just completed an intense workout session, I turned and looked at my wife with an exhausted smile and said, “I did it.” She quietly smiled back saying, “You did it baby.”    

Next week: Rehabilitation 101

The Long Road to Recovery

Safety Tip

Driving in Snow and Ice

The best advice for driving in bad winter weather is not to drive at all, if you can avoid it. Don't go out until the snow plows and sanding trucks have had a chance to do their work, and allow yourself extra time to reach your destination.   If you must drive in snowy conditions, make sure your car is prepared and that you know how to handle road conditions.  It's helpful to practice winter driving techniques in a snowy, open parking lot so you're familiar with how your car handles. Consult your owner's manual for tips specific to your vehicle.

The Long Road to Recovery

After a few days in the hospital it really began to dawn on me that it would be some time before things got back to normal.  My supervisor at work had arrangement to put me on extended medical leave and I had gotten approval of extensions to turn in work at a later date from my professors at both the online courses I was taking.  In the moments of solitude I tried to imagine how all this would turn out.  I had canceled the vacation plans, my son was banged up with an arm injury,  I had just come through a very serious operation and it seemed that my life had gone into a tail spend.  I decided to let go of everything and just focus on my health.

My supervisor checked in with me and asked when was a good time to come by and visit. I told him anytime was as good as the next because it looked as if I was not going anywhere anytime soon.  Two days after surgery a soldier from my officer stopped by to visit.  He was not sure who I was but he was directed to visit and get an assessment because he lived in the area. I recognized him as a fellow office worker who had helped me setup my computer the week before. We talked about the accident and the operation until my family arrived.  The young man asked if there was anything he could do to help, politely said goodbye and left.

I enjoyed the afternoon with my family. My son, in addition to having his arm in a sling, was walking with a crutch due to an apparent injury to his leg. The doctors said that the leg was not fractured but he was still in some pain.  We sat around and talked about everything.  We discussed my daughters’ requirements for college and issues she was having with finance. After several hours my family left and I again contemplated my status. I was frustrated by the fact that I could not see past this situation. I had no reference to gauge what this would do to my life or what my physical state would be in the aftermath. I recall thinking that I had no control of what was happening.  I felt I was just a pawn in this huge game waiting for the next move. 

The next day I met the physical and occupational therapists. They came in with a morning nurse, introduced themselves and informed me that they were to help me get back on my feet.  “The sooner the better,” one lady said.   Initially I thought they were out of their minds. I had just gone through two of the most traumatic events of my life and my optimism was at a record low.   However, deep inside of me I knew that if there was any chance of emerging out of this dark episode life had delivered me, I would have to fight. So that’s what I decided to do.   

Recovery Begins

Safety Tip

Plan ahead for harsher weather

Have your car winterized before the winter storm season sets in. Keeping your car in good condition decreases your chance of being stranded in cold weather. (And as you high-mileage enthusiasts already know, it also increases the life of your vehicle.) Have your mechanic check your battery, fluids, ignition system, thermostat, lights, exhaust system, heater, and brakes. This is also a great time to have the oil changed. In your trunk, be sure to have a first aid kit, thermal blanket, a working flashlight, a shovel and sand. As always, buckle up before heading out to enjoy all the fall has to offer. Be safe!

Recovery Begins

I woke up in a dark room trying to understand where I was and why.  It seemed as if I had awakened from a long night’s sleep. I felt no pain and had completely forgotten about the surgery. I looked around and saw other beds and noticed people walking around in the dim light of the room. Someone walked up to my bed and noticing that I was awake started to disconnect me from lines attached to equipment nearby equipment. Before I knew it, I was being rolled out of the recovery area. The person rolling my bed didn’t speak to me but I heard the conversations and activity of others centered on several patients being attended to as I was moved out of the area.

The trip through the hospital helped me regain my awareness and I realized that the surgery was over. I began to wonder if it had been successful.  Going into the surgery I was never clear on the extent of my injuries. I knew that I had broken the right hip and it was extremely painful. My feeling was that the injury was bad but just how bad I wasn’t sure. I looked for the doctor whom I spoke with earlier.  I was eager to learn how things had gone and what the next steps were. The trip across the hospital brought me back to my room where I found my wife waiting. As we talked I could see the concern in her eyes as she tried to access my situation. She explained that although the estimation of the doctor before surgery was that the operation would last two or three hours, the reality was that the surgery had taken nearly six hours and there had been no interim reports or communication from the OR during the event. I was surprised, but I reassured her that I felt fine.

I spent the remainder of the day sleeping and trying to gain some sense of my overall health physical health.  In my room the medication was setup to automatically be administered through an IV line. The nurses made frequent visits to the room checking my vital signs and monitoring the operation of the equipment I was connected to.  I noticed that the traction device was no longer hooked up to my leg, but I had zero ability to move any parts of my lower right extremities.  I found there two drainage tubes plunged into the side of my right thigh and connected to collapsible discs containers that lay next to me on the bed.  Overall, I felt pretty good and I hoped that the worst was now over.

Later that evening Dr. Stewart arrived to check my status. He asked how I felt and explained that the surgery had required much more time than anticipated but everything had gone well and he did not foresee any complications. He generally explained the treatment and what needed to take place immediately as well as the length of the healing and recovery process.  He asked if I had any questions about anything at that point. I told him how much I appreciated what he had done and asked about my future mobility. I explained that my favorite sport was running and wondered what his predictions were for the long term.  His response was vague. I am not sure how he phrased the answer but it came out positive but with no guarantees.  We shook hand and he was off. 

Next week: The Long Road to Recovery

Six hours under the knife Part II

Safety TIP: Watch for frost.

Dipping nighttime temperatures bring frost to windshields and roads. Keep a windshield scraper and small broom in your car. Decelerate or gently brake when approaching bridges and overpasses; open spaces are more prone to collect frost on the roadway surface. Keep alert for shaded areas that could create black ice during early morning and evening hours.

Six hours under the knife Part II

I spent the day Monday busying myself making contact with people, explaining what had happened and my current situation. It seemed that every time I explained to someone how I had come to be where I was, the whole matter sounded more bazaar.  The news spread among my family and friends, and I started to receive calls at a surprising rate from across the country, some from people I would have never expected. I am still amazed at how fast news can travel.

During the day Monday I got a roommate. The new tenant was a gentleman in his middle ages, who had been admitted for a back surgery. He was very talkative and livened up the room somewhat with his many conversations with his wife. Because there was only the privacy curtain and a few feet of space between his bed and my own, all conversations in the room became public knowledge. My roommate went to great lengths to express his displeasure in the outcome of his surgery. He explained that he had been less than convinced about the need to conduct the operation on his back but had agreed to the surgery on the recommendation of the doctor. After the operation, which failed to accomplish the desired goal, his doctor had recommended that possibly another surgery would be needed to correct the problem. While alluding to his strong faith in his religion, he preached to his wife over and over again that he had no desire to allow another operation. “I am satisfied with what I have,” he said. “I am not going to go through this again!”  The man’s wife, who was very soft spoken, never said much but tried to console her husband saying the doctor had done the best he could.  

The day went by quickly and I found myself meditating on the planned events of the next. My wife left shortly after dinner with plans to be back at the hospital prior to the time I was scheduled to be moved for surgery. I thought of the fact that I had only had one surgery in my life, about five years ago when I ruptured the Achilles tendon in the same leg.  This operation was performed as an outpatient procedure and had only taken about an hour.  I recovered at home, and then resumed my daily activities with the aid of a support orthopedic boot. The recovery was relatively quick and I had not thought about it again until now.  However, this felt a great deal more severe. I was not sure what to expect. I ended the evening with a prayer and drifted off to sleep.  

            At about 5:45 AM Tuesday morning I found myself alert and anxious.  The nurse had been in for early morning vital readings and reminded me of the planed operation.  She explained that the transport team would have someone down to get me soon.  I looked at the wall clock and wondered if my wife would arrive before I was moved out to begin preparations.   The pace of the morning’s activity seemed to carry an added intensity and I found myself developing feelings of anxiety as time seemed to speed by.  Then like a breath of fresh air my wife stepped into my room saying, “Good morning.”

The transport team arrived about 6:30 AM, and I was moved to the operating room for pre-op.  In the pre-op area I met with the anesthesiologist, the doctor and some members of the operating team. The doctor confirmed what and where surgery was to take place and actually marked his initials on my right leg to confirm that he would operate in the correct area. My last pre-op memories were of making small talk with my wife. With her standing beside my bed, we held hands and said a quite prayer.

Next week: Recovery begins

Six hours under the knife part I

Safety Tip: Make adjustments for the light.

We lose a minute of daylight every day until the clocks are set back in October. And shorter days mean shorter light, making it more difficult to see pedestrians, cyclists, and children playing in the late afternoon. Be on the lookout. If night vision is a problem, adjust your driving times or find alternate, well–lit routes whenever possible. On the flip side, later sunrises mean drivers need to adjust to the brighter sun at different times of the morning. Always keep a pair of sunglasses in your car to shield your vision. Pull over completely if the sun's glare affects your ability to safely see ahead.

Six hours under the knife part I

Sunday morning the 15^th of August proved to be a surreal time. Around seven AM, I woke to the sound of a medical assistant’s voice asking me if she could get vital sign readings. As she went about her task, I could see the morning light wash across the room through the thin curtains that covered the large window to my left.  My room was positioned directly across from a nurse’s station and there was lots of movement and conversation as nurses went about their morning duties, recording information and discussing patients. I thought about the fact that I had slept well for the last few hours and was surprised at how comfortable my leg felt in the traction device.

“How are you feeling this morning? Is there anything I can get for you,” she politely asked as she completed her work.

“No, I’m fine,” I said.

“Breakfast should be here in a few minutes,” she said as she left the room rolling her equipment.

I had finished my breakfast of eggs, French toast, and juice, when my wife walked in carrying my laptop computer, some reading material, my cell phone charger and other comfort items.

“Good morning,” she said as she moved around the bed, leaned over and gave me a kiss. “How are you feeling?  I brought your things.”

“Thanks, I feel OK,” I said.

 The night before we had began to talk through the many challenges that now face us as a result of the current situation. Before she had finally left for the night, we discussed the fact that I needed to notify my job, my school and our auto insurance of the accident. We also had to cancel our reservations in Georgia and Florida for the upcoming week. For this I need a computer and email access. I had confirmed with one of the nurses that wireless access was available and free in the room. I would spend the day Sunday taking care of details and making arrangements for what looked to be an extended time away from work and school.

At the job I had taken ten days of leave starting the Thursday of the previous week. Our plans were originally to drive to Georgia where I would take care of some legal issues on Friday, finalize the preparation to rent out our house in Savannah then drive to Florida early Monday morning. However, due to requirements my wife had for her online class, our plans had changed to staying put for the weekend and driving straight to Florida early Monday morning.

“You will not be allowed to eat anything after midnight tonight in preparation for the surgery on Monday,” a nurse said as she checked my blood pressure and temperature. “I don’t have a scheduled time yet, but I will let you know as soon as I do,” she said.   

On Monday, evening after fasting all day, I found out that the orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Stewart, still did not have a scheduled time for my surgery due to the large number of priority and previously scheduled operations. After some investigation my nurse was assured that my surgery was confirmed for Tuesday morning at seven AM. “I wish they had told me this earlier,” she said “let’s get you something to eat.”

Next week:  Six hours under the knife part II

Chapter 6: It took hours to repair what it took seconds to break

Safety Tip: Steer clear of wet leaves.

The fall foliage is beautiful, as long as it stays on the trees. But once those leaves start falling, get wet from rain they can become a serious driving hazard. Wet leaves are slippery and reduce traction. They can also cover parts of the yellow and white pavement markings on the road, making it difficult to determine shoulder and lane widths. Additionally, wet leaves can get clogged under your wiper blades, impeding wiper performance and visibility. Always keep your windshield clean of leaves, and watch for wet leaves on the roads especially as you are making turns. Also, park free of leaf piles as these can be a fire hazard against catalyst converters.

Chapter 6:  It took hours to repair what it took seconds to break

It was around four AM when I was rolled into a dual occupancy room on the sixth floor of Fairfax hospital, room 659. The empty room had two beds separated by privacy curtains. I was to occupy the bed closest to the door. It was a relief to be out of the ER, and it seemed that progress was being made to bring an end to what had truly become one of the most traumatic days of my life.

Doctor Peck walked in shortly after the nurses had completed transferring me from the stretcher to the bed. There was a trapeze connected to the bed and positioned overhead with a triangle shaped handle for me to use to reposition myself by using my upper body rather than my legs.  The doctor had brought with him the weights for the traction device. I curiously watched as he went through the process of arranging the items on the end of the nylon cord and the metal pin that was placed through my leg earlier. The entire thing was much less sophisticated than I imagined. The cord hung down the back of the bed and was attached to a hook that held several individual weighted rings.

“We are going to begin with 30 pounds,” he said as he lowered and positioned the weights. My leg automatically felt the tension and was lifted and pulled down toward the end of the bed. I braced myself for the expected pain, but was surprised at how little discomfort I felt.

            “How does that feel,” Dr Peck asked as he continued to slowly lower the weighted device until its full effects were realized on my leg.

“It’s not too bad,” I said.

“Are you sure? Is that comfortable? “

As we talked I realized that the weight was increasingly becoming unbearable and that I would not be able to sustain the current pull for an extended period. 

“It’s pulling a bit much,” I said. Can you adjust it some,” I asked.  

“Sure, less take it down to 25 pounds. How is that?  Feels better?”

As he made the final adjustments and started to leave, Dr. Peck said, “I am not sure but it looks like your surgery will be scheduled for Monday.”

After surveying the room and accessing the situation, I encouraged my wife to go home and get some rest. Earlier, she had insisted on staying at the hospital until I was settled in a room. During the evening since getting my very unexpected call, she had driven to the accident site, witnessed her son extracted from the wreckage of what was my Jeep, driven to the hospital and comforted my son as he endured the examination and treatment for a broken arm, moved back and forth between my room and my son’s room throughout the evening monitoring and ensuring that all questions were answered and that we received proper treatment.  At around midnight my son was discharged so she drove him home got him settled and left him in the care of our daughter. Then she drove back to the hospital to be with me as the doctors worked through the diagnosis and treatment plan. In other words she had been fully engaged executing the duties as a mother and wife on notice and non-stop for over 10 hours, and I knew she was exhausted.       

Next week: Six hours under the knife.

Chapter 5: The Joy of Tractions

Safety Tip:

Be Smart About The Traffic Laws: Traffic laws and traffic signage are supposed to be uniform, but they aren’t. It pays to be careful though because, according to the National Speedtrap Exchange, there are over 50,000 speed traps in the United States. If you are ticketed, don’t fight your battle on the roadside. If you truly feel exploited, you can challenge your ticket in court by yourself, with help from the National Motorists Association, or through an attorney. Just don’t let it spoil your vacation!

Chapter 5: The Joy of Tractions

First, let me admit that the title of the chapter is grossly misleading; there was nothing that remotely resembled joy associated with being in tractions.

After multiple trips for x-rays and scans the doctors were convinced that there were no other serious issues to be concerned about and began to pay closer attention to my right pelvis and leg. It was determined that the force during the impact of the crash had driven my right femur violently backward causing multiple fractures of the Ashtabula (hip socket). By now it had started to sink in that was a serious injury with possible long term implications.

“You will have to be scheduled for surgery to correct this,” Doctor Peck said, “but we must ensure that the femur is readjusted and not lodged into the hip socket. This means we will have to pull that bone back to its correct position”.

OK, I said, instinctively, not quite understanding what this entailed.

“You will need to be in tractions until the surgery,” he said then went on to explain the procedure of putting the leg in tractions.   “I will need to drill through your leg just below the knee in order to insert a rod that will hold the weights. It shouldn’t take long. Do you have any questions?

I couldn’t think of anything but the possible pain and said “No, nothing I can think of.”

“I will be back shortly and we will have you all set up by the time your room is assigned and prepared,” he said as he turned and walked out.

When the doctor returned with his equipment and began to apply the anesthesia to my leg, I looked at my wife who was now standing beside my bed looking as if she could already feel that pain of having a drill plowing through your leg.

“I’m not sure how much support I will be but I will be right here with you dear,” she said with a smile.

We laughed as the doctor’s cell phone started to buzz. He finished the last of the injections and answered the phone as the medication began to take effect on the leg. After a few minutes and a couple of brief tests, he positioned the metal drill bit against the outside of my right leg as I turned my head, clinched my teeth and braced as best I could for the pain.     

When the drill bit emerged through the left inside of my right leg the pain was excruciating and my loud outburst caused him to stop and reapply anesthesia to that area before forcing the drill completely through. He then quickly placed a metal pin that had a nylon cord through it into the hole, clamped the two ends together and said “there you are. You’re all set. We will not put weights on you until you are settled in a room.”  

Next Week: It took hours repair what it seconds break