Yesterday the Occupational Therapist came and made a splint for me. It has been a disaster. It offers no support to my leg, causes me immense pain and at the same time, the pain management team are taking pain meds away from me.
I can't sleep, eat or think. They are refusing to do anything to help. The nurses treat me like my presence here is an inconvenience to them, which makes it all the more difficult to cope with this saga. I've tried my best to keep my chin up, but when the pain has me in tears, and it has been going on for days, and the nursing staff response is of course it hurts, you have a leg full of metal pins, I think about how i might give up. How I might escape this torture.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Saturday, November 26, 2011
The Accident
Tuesday November the 15th 2011 was just like any other day for me. It started with my usual routine. Alarm went off I threw my workout gear on and made a beeline for the gym, had a nice little run, headed off home again.
I went home, pottered about, did breakfast, fed my cats and gave them a quick cuddle and ran out the door. Everything about my morning so far had been quite unremarkable. Probably would have cuddled a bit more had I have known so many days would pass before I would get to see them again.
At this point, I go through my daily ritual of protective gear. Jacket, Pants, Gloves and most importantly the ol' lid protecting the noggin. I continue my uneventful trip to work. Suddenly, in a matter of seconds my life was completely different. For legal reasons, I'm notgoing to speculate on who is at fault or why this all happened. What I can tell you however, is that I have an extremely strong vivid memory of the accident happening. I can still see and feel the crunch that destroyed my leg. I see colors and familiar buildings spinning uncontrollably as I slide down the road, I feel the crunch and sudden all over numbness as I jump the gutter, and when I come to rest, I have an aching lump of flesh that is completely useless. I have no control over my left leg, and my arms and the rest of my body are starting to tingle and follow suit. People come from everywhere, they try to stop me from removing my helmet, tough luck. It was claustrophobic in there.
It seemed like I was laying there an hour waiting for the ambos to provide some pain relief, but it was only a few minutes. Apparently, a number of officers didn't think I would make it, because of all the blood. I noticed a few drops when I first looked down, but wasn't paying attention. Once the paramedics gave me a combination of morphine, their whistle, and ketamine, all I could do to not pass out was mumble to the officers and watch the sky, which had taken some strange visuals thanks to one of the drugs I had been given. I don't care because while I'm still in terrible pain, they have made it at least manageable, a state I will get used to. I still haven't looked down, but I'm told my leg has been partially amputated in the impact, a large part of the bone and muscle has been destroyed. Fortunately, no spinal injuries. The feeling of numbness in my limbs was from breathing too fast for too long, saturating the muscles wth oxygen and depleting them of c02. I have all my clothes cut away from me in the middle of the street, I spend an hour laying on my back while paramedics try and stabilise me enough to get me back to hospital.
That was almost 2 weeks ago. I still have no idea when I'm going home, when I will be able to walk again. I've been to the theatre four times during that time, have consumed huge amounts of Morphine, and leaned on my family and friends for support.
With their help, I have despaired, given up, rejoiced, cheered, been contented, and celebrated victories.
It a long and arduous road I've started upon. Mark my words, I will make it to the other end though.
I went home, pottered about, did breakfast, fed my cats and gave them a quick cuddle and ran out the door. Everything about my morning so far had been quite unremarkable. Probably would have cuddled a bit more had I have known so many days would pass before I would get to see them again.
At this point, I go through my daily ritual of protective gear. Jacket, Pants, Gloves and most importantly the ol' lid protecting the noggin. I continue my uneventful trip to work. Suddenly, in a matter of seconds my life was completely different. For legal reasons, I'm notgoing to speculate on who is at fault or why this all happened. What I can tell you however, is that I have an extremely strong vivid memory of the accident happening. I can still see and feel the crunch that destroyed my leg. I see colors and familiar buildings spinning uncontrollably as I slide down the road, I feel the crunch and sudden all over numbness as I jump the gutter, and when I come to rest, I have an aching lump of flesh that is completely useless. I have no control over my left leg, and my arms and the rest of my body are starting to tingle and follow suit. People come from everywhere, they try to stop me from removing my helmet, tough luck. It was claustrophobic in there.
It seemed like I was laying there an hour waiting for the ambos to provide some pain relief, but it was only a few minutes. Apparently, a number of officers didn't think I would make it, because of all the blood. I noticed a few drops when I first looked down, but wasn't paying attention. Once the paramedics gave me a combination of morphine, their whistle, and ketamine, all I could do to not pass out was mumble to the officers and watch the sky, which had taken some strange visuals thanks to one of the drugs I had been given. I don't care because while I'm still in terrible pain, they have made it at least manageable, a state I will get used to. I still haven't looked down, but I'm told my leg has been partially amputated in the impact, a large part of the bone and muscle has been destroyed. Fortunately, no spinal injuries. The feeling of numbness in my limbs was from breathing too fast for too long, saturating the muscles wth oxygen and depleting them of c02. I have all my clothes cut away from me in the middle of the street, I spend an hour laying on my back while paramedics try and stabilise me enough to get me back to hospital.
That was almost 2 weeks ago. I still have no idea when I'm going home, when I will be able to walk again. I've been to the theatre four times during that time, have consumed huge amounts of Morphine, and leaned on my family and friends for support.
With their help, I have despaired, given up, rejoiced, cheered, been contented, and celebrated victories.
It a long and arduous road I've started upon. Mark my words, I will make it to the other end though.
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