Thirty-first

Today was May 31st.  It's not a particularly special day, but for me, it's a reminder that I have been in the hospital for the entire month of May.  I'm happy to think of the incredible progress I've made in that month, but I'm sad to think of everything I've missed during that time.  It's a long time to be locked up.

Other than that, today was a pretty good day.  The Program was successful for the first time in weeks.  Normally I don't think it's polite to talk about The Program, but I'm just too excited not to mention it.  If I don't get that under control before I leave here, my quality of life will be miserable, so any positive steps there are cause for celebration.  Honestly, nothing could have ruined my day after this.

Later, Gus stopped by for lunch and brought Taco Bell and donuts from Daylight Donuts in North Raleigh.  If anyone is taking notes on how I like to be visited, that's the way to do it.

The only thing better than Taco Bell...

... is Taco Bell followed by delicious donuts.

Gus also stuck around for exercise class, and took some pictures.  There are other people in the class, but I try not to publish pictures of other patients to protect their privacy.

Later, we went to PT and learned some new ways to do pressure relief in the wheelchair.

I don't know who I would trust to do this to me

And Gus caught some footage of me doing a transfer from a bench to my wheelchair.  This transfer is slower than normal because the bench is high enough to keep my feet off the ground, but it's still true that everything in my life after the accident is going to go slower.  That's just a fact.

When we were done with that, we took some pictures of my scar because I hadn't seen it with the tape off.

As scars go, I'm told it's very pretty

And then I finished it off by writing this blog post for you guys.  So overall, it was a good day, and I think I'm going to sleep well.

Disappointment

I don't handle disappointment well.  Even moderate disappointment can make me do crazy, irrational things that I later regret, so I have learned to avoid disappointment at all costs.  Unfortunately, that is not always possible.

It feels just like this

Today, I learned that I'm not going to be able to rent the apartment I was expecting to rent.  I had my heart set on it.  It was 5 minutes from most of my friends, it was walking distance from stores and food, it was setup adequately for wheelchair use, it was on the C-Tran route so I wouldn't necessarily need to buy a car right away, and it was 2-bedroom so I would have plenty of space.

I couldn't find a single fault with the place, and mentally, I had already moved in.  I was already anticipating the exercise program I would start by pushing myself as far toward the store as I could every day until I finally made it.

The only problem was the current occupant changed their mind about moving out.

So now I have to pick another place to live.  Fortunately, my friends have already visited every apartment complex that might possibly work so I already have the information to make this decision.  Unfortunately, none of the other options are nearly as perfect.

I'm sure wherever I choose, I'll be happy, and everything will work out.  It always does.  But today I'm disappointed, and it's going to take some time to get over it and get my head straight to move on.

Field Trip Friday

It looks like they're taking us out Friday afternoon to a handcycle clinic in North Raleigh.  It sounds like a bunch of fun to me, but it means that if you were thinking about dropping in unannounced, Friday afternoon is not a good time since I won't be here.  You have been warned.

A handcycle

Packing Up

The project

I've learned more every day since my accident about what kind of friends I have.  They are amazing, and I am delighted that today I get to show you some of them in action.

Shortly after my accident, my friend Caitlin, requested the position of Director of Estate Affairs.  This position would make her chief manager for all issues related to my future housing.  I was thrilled to give her that position because she is the most effective organizer I know.  Last weekend, as part of her official duties, and in cooperation with Mike, my Executive In Charge of Getting Stuff Done, Caitlin organized a volunteer work day at my house to fix up minor issues, and pack up all my stuff.  The objective was to get the house as close to sale-ready as possible.  Here's a list of all the people who attended:

• Caitlin
• Cullen
• Mike
• Sue
• Ben
• Gus
• Brittany
• Brian
• Rob
• Amy
• Joe
• Jon
• Jessica
• My Mom
• My Dad

And here are the pictures.  Not everyone who helped is in a picture, but those people were no less helpful, and no less appreciated.  The amount of work that got done on Saturday boggles my mind.  I have no idea how all this would ever have happened without all the organization and effort of all my friends, and I am eternally grateful for all of that work.

I don't know if everybody has friends like mine, but if you do, please remember never to take them for granted.  I know I never plan to make that mistake again.

Fear of Freedom

I'm not going to be here forever.  One way or another, they are going to fling me out of rehab into the real world, and probably before I am really ready.  Currently, my tentative launch date is June 19 which is just 21 short days from now. 

Rahalay, my primary occupational therapist, has told me that in the five years she has been working here, she has never seen anyone do what I am planning to do.  Namely, she has never seen anyone with my type of injury go directly from rehab to living independently and alone.

That knowledge and my short countdown to release has me worried.  There's still a LOT I can't do on my own.  It's hard to imagine I'm going to master all of it in the next three weeks before they jettison me out of here.  I'm going to have to use some of those skills to survive in my apartment.  Transferring from my wheelchair into the shower is just one example of a daily activity that requires a tremendous amount of strength and balance, and which has a lot of opportunity for painful failure.  I've only done it once successfully, and the shower in here is much larger, and I had two spotters.

If I fall in here, I may hit the floor, but there's somebody right there to pick me up.  If I fall in my apartment, I could be there a while.  I can take my phone to the bathroom with me, but there's no guarantee I'll be able to reach it after I fall, or that anyone I call will be able to come help me.

I don't want to be the Neil Armstrong of paraplegics.  I don't feel the need to prove to anyone that I am tough enough to roll out of rehab and never need any help from anyone.  The fact of the matter is, I want a safety net for the first month or two, and the only effective safety net I can think of is a warm body in my house.

Not me

I believe what I need is someone who can be present in my apartment whenever I'm attempting my most dangerous activities so that if I get myself in trouble, they can come help pick me up off the floor and untangle my twisted legs.  I believe I am likely to attempt dangerous activities mostly in the morning, but possibly also some evenings.

I can't really pay that much, but I expect to be living in a 2-bedroom apartment in Cary, NC.  I could potentially provide free rent for anyone willing to help me out.  I expect to need the help starting around June 19, and I don't know how long I would want it to last, but I would certainly be flexible.

I'm not entirely sure what sort of person this job might appeal to, but I would think maybe a nursing student on summer break or a college student with nothing going on this summer.  I'd like to find someone responsible enough to actually be there when I need them, but I'm desperate enough to entertain any ideas, so if you have any thoughts, please shoot me an email here: REDACTED

Superpowers

When you look at how ordinary people develop superpowers, it normally involves some combination of medical/surgical modification (Wolverine, Captain America), alien influence (Superman, Green Lantern), and radiation exposure (The Hulk, Spiderman, most of the rest).  And so I got to thinking.

The other day, at PT, Emily was trying to stretch my neck out by pulling my head off.  She was yanking and twisting pretty hard, yet she was unable to remove my head.  That's when I realized my surgery had given me a superpower: my head is unusually well attached to my body.

I didn't say it was a good power or a useful power, but not all superpowers are.  Look at Aquaman.

"I talk to fish!"

It has also occurred to me that since I have been in the hospital, they have given me more X-rays than I can count.  So I'm starting to look out for other superpowers I might be developing.  So far there's no evidence of super-speed or super-strength, but I am constantly on the lookout for those or other, less obvious abilities.

Here is a list of supernatural abilities that I think I may be developing at this time:

• The power to sit in one place for a long period of time
• The power to read the thoughts of canines (they're hungry)
• The power to consume huge quantities of vegetables in a single sitting

I believe that with great power comes great responsibility, and I also believe the world may not be ready to accept my new powers, so I never attempt to use them in public.  Especially the vegetable one.  It simply would not be appropriate.


I do wonder whether I am alone.  If you think modern science has given you a superhuman ability, leave a comment.

Panic

Everything changes for me this Sunday, and I have been fighting a slowly rising tide of panic about it.  On Sunday, Andrew goes home.  It's difficult to express what I lose when he goes, but I'm going to try.  I lose:

• An assistant who can turn a 45-minute struggle into a 30-second whim
• An ever-present audience for my constant sarcasm
• A comedian who constantly helps me find the funny in my situation
• A surprisingly qualified personal trainer who can stretch out my body and challenge my mind
• A spotter who can help me transfer from my bed to my wheelchair without waiting for help from a nurse's assistant
• An attentive defender who is ready to throw on some blankets at a moment's notice when my body temperature goes haywire
• A friend who claims he has actually enjoyed his time here, as unlikely as that seems

The fact is I have been extraordinarily lucky to have had people stay with me as long as I did, and RIDICULOUSLY lucky to have Andrew for two whole weeks.  After Andrew leaves, I will be on my own for the first time, and it scares the crap out of me.  I'll be by myself most of the time, and I'll be at the mercy of the nursing staff any time I want anything. That means getting a drink, or getting a change of socks, or getting out of bed.  Right now, Andrew can make all that stuff a non-issue.

You will be missed

Once he's gone, my life here is going to be lonelier and harder.  It represents an important step in the transition to living on my own out in the real world, but that doesn't make it any fun, and it's one of the reasons it's so damn scary.

More Adventures of Buddha Bear

Hi, this is Buddha Bear.  Sorry I haven't written, but I've been keeping very busy.

Having some lunch

 

Catching up on paperwork

Leading some informal group therapy

Doing a little part-time work for the nursing staff

(Photo staging and capture by Andrew Nichols)

Apology

When I came to rehab, I thought I would have loads of free time.  For a lot of people, that's probably the case.  I thought I would spend a few hours each day with the therapists, lifting weights and learning techniques, then I'd have hours and hours of complete boredom every evening.  I can honestly say that I don't think I have experienced a whole hour of real boredom since I've been here.

My average day starts off with a night where I am awoken every 2 hours by a nurse who wants to take my blood pressure, flip me on my side, push some pills in me, or take some pee.  I wake up for real around 8:00 AM when breakfast is delivered.  If I have a 9:00 therapy session that day, I have to wolf down breakfast and get help getting dressed and into my wheel chair.  If not, then Andrew will make me struggle with my own socks or shorts or make me do one of the many stretches or exercises that I hate but benefit from tremendously.

Once therapy starts, I don't usually get many breaks until it's over between 2:00 and 4:00 PM depending on the day.  Dinner is at 5:00, and I use this time to call any businesses that might close after 5:00.  For instance, I would call about any hospital bills I don't understand.  I might also use this time to look at apartment information that my friends have gathered, or complete tasks assigned to me by Caitlin, my Director of Estate Affairs who is organizing the effort to sell my house.

After dinner, the bowel program lasts another hour until 7:00 PM.  Sometimes I have evening guests starting around this time, in which case, my evening is shot until 10:00 PM.  If I don't have guests, there's always more paperwork, phone calls/texts/emails from friends to answer, and of course the blog.  I love my blog, and I appreciate each and every one of my readers (of which I believe there are around 50!), but some nights, I just want to button up at 9:00, and go to sleep.  A blog post like this one takes 4 to 5 hours to plan and write.  It's difficult not to make it feel rushed or sloppy.

A fairly normal evening

But I can't let it feel rushed or sloppy because this blog is my way of thanking all the people who have kept me going in here.  I know how lucky I am to have all these people on the outside thinking about me, and working for me.  The least I can do is put in the effort to let them know how I'm doing.

I write all this to beg your understanding on the days when I have to keep it short.  I don't like to do it, but it's just hard to find the time to write about everything I want.  I have half a dozen ideas right now that I don't have time to write about yet.  I hope to get to them all one day and do them properly.

Butt-Wheelies

Emily thinks it's funny when I say this which I take to mean that it has enough truth to it that should be funny.  However it may only be funny to people who have experienced it.  We'll see.  First I'll give you some background.

I'm a T4 ASIA something paraplegic which means that my spinal cord was damaged at the 4th vertebrae down from my head.  That's pretty high, and it means that none of my abdominal muscles work at all.  This means that sitting up requires me to basically balance my shoulders and head over my hips with no control of the connecting body.  It's all balance, and it's really easy to tip over.

One of the big things we work on is sitting on the edge of a bed while holding objects with both hands.  This is much more difficult with no abs because you can't hold the object just anywhere.  You have to position it so that it doesn't upset your balance.  If you start to fall backward, you have to hold it out further in front, etc.

As a result of the way I have to sit, I told Emily that sitting was now a lot more like doing a wheelie on my butt.  That may amuse only me, but it amuses me quite a bit because of how true it is.

Example of a butt-wheelie

Outside

Today was pretty eventful, but I don't have much time to write about it so I'll just say it was a good day.  The major event today was that some of the therapists took another patient and myself out on a trip outside the hospital to see an apartment that is modified to accommodate wheelchair dwellers such as us.

My friends have been looking at this type of apartment on my behalf for weeks now, and sending me pictures and videos, but it's hard to get a feel for it without actually being there, so this trip gave me the opportunity to try to relate what I've seen in their pictures to what these apartments are like in real life.

I asked Katie to snap some pictures.  Note the lowered counter tops, the stove controls on the front, the pull-out counter surface, the wider doorways, and the grab handles in the tub.  Overall, we thought this was a pretty nice setup until we learned that the mailboxes are 70 yards away up a steep hill.  That's what we call a deal-breaker.  Also the $1300/mo rental price for the one-bedroom.  This place is close to UNC so normal pricing rules don't seem to apply.

The good news is that I think I have settled on an apartment in Cary.  I think I'm going to start filling out paperwork tomorrow.

Styling Secrets

I've been in the hospital for about month now.  Some of you, who are paying attention, are probably wondering, "How does he keep his hair so clean and stylish?"  At the risk of upsetting some high-ups in the hair-care industry, I am now going to reveal my secrets to you.

The future of hair-care

The secret is ReadyBath.  This is a shower-cap lined with a moist towel that contains a rinse-free shampoo PLUS CONDITIONER, as seen on the packaging.

Before: disgusting

This is what I looked like before my last ReadyBath.  Note the unhealthy sheen and the matted appearance.

Step 1. Microwave ReadyBath packaging for 20-30 seconds for a warm, pleasant experience.
Step 2. Apply ReadyBath to hair, and massage in thoroughly.

Let the magic happen

Step 3. Towel hair until only damp

Dry it out before your hair gets TOO clean

Step 4. Comb remaining dirt out of hair

Perhaps the most important step

Step 5. Clean the dirt and towel lint out of your comb

It's supposed to do that

The secret to ReadyBath's operation is that it exchanges days worth of built-up dirt and oil for a slightly different buildup of soap and chemicals.  Note the healthy sheen and still matted appearance.

After: so much different!

ReadyBath: if it can work for me, it can work for anyone!

Back On the Horse

Yesterday, after lunch, one of the OT therapists stopped by my room to do some exercises on the edge of the bed.  That was almost too much for me, and as a result, I was worried that I had slipped backwards in my rehab and would have to catch back up.

However, when I woke up this morning, I felt much much better, and I was looking forward to getting up and attacking my therapy.  My day was a complete success.

First, Emily had me do some balance exercises on the edge of the bed where I did almost as well as I was doing last week.

Then Rahalay took me to the mock apartment they have here on the floor and had me try some exercises in a real bed.  This real bed is much taller and softer than the hospital beds, and is not adjustable.  That makes everything harder, starting with the uphill transfer out of the chair.  Fortunately, I nailed the transfer and got myself onto the bed.

I can tell you that the biggest physical challenge for me in almost every situation is the fact that my abdominal muscles don't work.  That means I can never just sit up or lift my hips from a lying position.  They tell me I should be able to do it with my elbows while lying on my back, but so far I have found that too difficult.  What I was able to do today though, was a long sit.

A long sit is where you sit with your legs stretched straight out in front of you, and you can maintain it by simply leaning your weight forward.  I have not been able to do it to this point because I didn't have the flexibility in my legs.  But Andrew has been stretching me out at least once a day, and today, I was able to roll onto my side, push off my elbow and get into a long sit.  It's a critical skill, and I was very proud of myself for doing it.

I was also able to use the long sit to push off and scoot my butt around the bed.  My therapist was surprised I had the triceps strength to do that, so that also made me feel good.

Then, once I scooted all the way across the bed and slid down the board and back onto the wheel chair, I tried and succeeded in putting my own feet back on the foot rests.  Another first for me that I was quite proud of.

Finally, Emily took me back to the gym and did some creative stretching on the muscles around my spine.  That hurt pretty good, and should be good for my overall posture in the long run.  I hope to do more of that soon.

All in all, this has been a great day, and I'm extremely proud of myself.  Andrew took tons of pictures today, and it's too many to publish on the blog, so I'll just give you a link to the Picasa album.  These pictures are not in order.

Ready for Action

I've been waiting for this all weekend.  I finally feel GOOD.  My temperature is down, and I think I cleared all the intestinal gas from my system, so I'm eating some solid food (cereal) this morning.  I'm ready to get up and see what I can do today.  Emily is first at 10:00, so I have time to get some stretching in and clean up a little.  I just can't wait to get in the chair.

Snap, Crackle, Pop!

Feeling a Little Better

He's alive!

This evening, after much prompting from Andrew and my new nurse, I got up into the chair.  It was painful, and tiring, but it felt good to move positions.

Then Andrew pushed me down the lobby cafe so I could get some pizza.  The pizza wasn't very good, and decided I shouldn't psh my luck, so I went easy on that for now.  I also have some mocha icing cupcakes that my sister brought.  I had one of those too.  Sort of a late celebration of my birthday.

I appreciate all the cards I've gotten for my birthday.  Knowing how many people are rooting for me really does affect my motivation to do well here.

Tomorrow, I'm going to try to get up and attack the PT schedule.

Setbacks

Today, we tried a few more things to work loose all the gas in my system.  The doctors keep ordering more and more elaborate enemas, but so far we haven't had more than moderate success.  It's getting to be a real problem, and I still have no idea when or how it will ultimately be fixed.

Blogging while not feeling well

On top of that, tonight's taking of my vital signs revealed that I had a temperature.  We don't know why yet, but they have taken blood and urine samples for further analysis.  They're also making me drink some Ensure Plus, Strawberry flavor to help compensate for the fact that I haven't eaten any solid food in over a day.  It's pretty awful, but not as awful as magnesium citrate.  I think I'd rather get shot than drink another bottle of magnesium citrate.

Gross

All of these setbacks have kept me stationary in bed for almost 3 days, and when Al from Occupational Therapy came to my room today and made me sit up and do some exercises, I realized how much muscle and coordination I had lost during that time.  It drove home to me the fact that I can't get stuck here in bed for much longer, and I may need to fight through some discomfort to get back in therapy ASAP.

Gas

Yesterday, right after lunch, I noticed I was experiencing a problem that felt similar to a serious problem I had in Charlotte.  After I was done eating, I could feel a large quantity of gas building in my abdomen to the point of causing discomfort.  Back in Charlotte, the problem was caused by an ileus which is basically a shutdown of bowel function.  In this case, they believe it is caused by a simple blockage of the bowel, but whatever the cause, it's extremely frustrating.  I am afraid to eat anything for fear of adding more gas to an already very uncomfortable situation.

Last night, they tried a couple things to fix me.  They gave me some gas-reducing medicine, and some stool-softener, and some laxative, and an enema, and none of it seemed to help very much.  Today, they're trying the same stuff.  I can't say I'm too optimistic.  They have already cancelled my therapy for the morning, and scheduled an enema at 12:00.  If that doesn't help, I don't know what they're going to do this afternoon.

I just hope I can get this fixed soon so I can get back to therapy.

Surprise Visit

On Friday, I got a surprise visit from my Aunt Lucy, my cousin, Cathy, and her son, Connor.  Connor was in town for a swim meet, and Aunt Lucy decided to take a ride down, and they all hung out with Andrew and me during lunch.  I enjoyed the visit very much, and I hope the Connor did well at his swim meet.

Cathy, me, Aunt Lucy, and Connor

Motorcycles

It makes perfect sense to blame motorcycles for my injury.  I mean, it did happen on a bike.  But the fact of the matter is, if I were miraculously healed tomorrow, one of the first things I would do would be to get back on a motorcycle.  I was never under any illusions about how dangerous riding is.  The danger is one of the things that makes them so exciting.  If anyone or anything is to blame, it's me, so I don't blame the bike, and I still have the passion to ride.

Having the time of my life

That said, I have met people with severe lower body injuries who find ways to keep riding.  Often, they ride 3-wheelers.  I actually met a paraplegic like myself at the racetrack once who had designed and fabricated a thumb-shifter and a landing gear system for his Kawasaki that allowed him to do a track day with his legs velcro'd to the side of the bike.  His friends would lift him onto the bike before each session.  I respect the hell out of guys like that, but I don't have any desire to be one of them.

Let's give him a hand

Andrew again.  Jason's down for the count today.  
 
Got some new information on Jason's hand.  Apparently it IS broken.  This kinda sucks for him since, a. its really painful and b. it's going to slow down rehab significantly.  It sounds like they're going to make him a bigger, more restrictive brace.

On the other hand, Jason is pleased he's not imagining the pain in his hand.

Not Jason's hand

Update: 2:00 PM

The just sent an orthopedic surgeon in to look at my hand.  He suggested that it looks like the break is more of a chip, and I should continue to use the hand as much as I can tolerate.  He doesn't think I'm making it worse, and he thinks the bulk of my pain is likely from sprains as opposed to the break.  That is probably good news as it gives me a lot of leeway to continue rehab.

Update: 5/20 - 7:00 AM

A different orthopedic surgeon came to see me this morning.  Dr. Greywall suggested that I not put any weight on the heel of my hand where the chip is, but also said I could freely use my index finger, middle finger, and thumb as pain allows.  That is going to be difficult, but at least it lets me participate in rehab.  I'll just have to try it and see how much I can do.  I feel like the wrist is continually in more pain than it was last week, so I'm forced to wonder if that's all psychological because I know there is a fracture.

Hemopneumothorax

This morning, when my doctors made their rounds, I told them about all the pain I was in.  That earned me a couple sets of x-rays this afternoon.  One for my hand, one for my ribs.

Not my real x-ray

I haven't heard anything about the hand yet, but the verdict on the chest is that I have a hemopneumothorax.  Apparently it can be quite dangerous but they're not sure yet how bad it is.  Right now, I'm waiting for a thoracic surgeon to come up here and evaluate me.  I may get to have surgery to insert a drainage tube in my chest.  The surgery might happen tonight.  I'm really excited about the possibility.

I'll let you know what they say.

Update 6:33 PM

Looks like we're going to start with a procedure where they attempt to drain off the fluid with a big needle.  If that doesn't work, they will put in a tube the size of a garden hose.  I suggest nobody come visit tomorrow.

Update 7:45 PM

This is Andrew.  Ghostwriting for Jason, who is currently lying beside me in a drugged stupor.  The procedure went well.

Here's the needle.

Jason getting stabbed in the lung.

The surgery team removed over 900 ml of fluid (mostly blood) from Jason's chest cavity.

That's a LOT of blood!

He's breathing easier now, but we're waiting for the x-rays to show us what's going on in there.

Update 9:25 PM

Turns out they gave Jason quite a dose of pain meds.  He was passed out by 8:30.

La-La Land.

Sleep tight buddy.

Update 5/19 - 9:05 AM

We haven't seen the x-rays from yesterday, but the docs. tell us that the fluid is probably gone from Jason's lungs.  Now we're waiting for new x-rays to determine whether or not whatever caused it has stopped.

If he hasn't stopped leaking, then I'm told that the doctors will jam a tube in Jason's side, roughly the size of my finger to make sure he stays clear.  Jason tells me he's in a lot of pain.

Ashley points out that having a thoracic surgery team on site is one of the good reasons to do your rehab at a hospital.  Like this one.

Update 5/19 - 1:00 PM

Well, I'm finally awake and alert, and feeling good enough to work on the computer a little bit.   I've still got some pain that I think is related to the giant needle they jammed in my back last night.  They have changed my pain meds a little bit, so that may be helping.  I'm not sure yet.  I'm also still waiting to hear back on the x-rays they took this morning.

It feels really good to have a day off.  I feel like I've been pushing really hard all week without enough rest, so in spite of the pain, it feels incredibly good to just lie here today with nothing at all to do.

Update 5/19 - 1:30 PM

I have been getting a lot of questions today about whether they know what caused the leakage in my chest cavity.  I'm not entirely sure, but I think they have a pretty good guess.  I heard the surgeons say it looked like the rupture was caused by trauma.  I took that to mean that it was caused by the accident, and possibly by the broken ribs that were incurred in the crash.

Update 5/19 - 3:00 PM

I finally talked to my doctor about the x-ray that was taken today.  She said the shot shows that there is still some fluid in my chest, but the film was taken with a mobile x-ray machine that does not take images from the side, and without that view, they don't want to make a final judgement on what to do.  They also don't want to expose me to any more radiation today.  I assume they are worried I will start to develop super powers.

So the plan is for me to go back down to the basement tomorrow morning for some better x-rays and then they will decide how I'm doing.  Until then, I guess I'll just keep relaxing and puffing on my incentive spirometer.

Update 5/20 - 1:00 PM

I got wheeled to the basement at 7:00 AM this morning for more x-rays, and after hearing a lot of speculation about them all day, I have finally heard that the amount of fluid remaining in my chest is small, and the surgeons don't intend to drain me any further.  This is very happy news for me, and has led to the belated consumption of birthday cake.

Update 5/21 - 8:30 PM

I have gotten a lot of questions about what caused the leak in my chest.  The short answer is that I don't know, and I don't think the surgeons are sure either.  I heard them mention that they thought trauma was likely the cause, and I suspect that one of the exercises I did in therapy on Thursday caused one of my broken ribs to puncture something important.  This is just speculation, but it's all you're going to get unless the leak starts back up.

The Shower

Katie and Rahalay, about to see me naked

I'm pretty sure everyone on this floor of the hospital has seen my junk.  That's what I tell everyone, and I think it's nearly true.  If you want to see it, come on down and take a gander.  I don't mind.  I gave up on my dignity after my first day here.  It's a lot easier that way.

This morning, I got a shower.  It was my first real shower since the accident almost a month ago.  The shower was a teaching exercise administered by my occupational therapists, Katie, and Rahalay.  It was incredibly difficult, and required constant spotting and assistance by both ladies while I tried to manage my balance on the shower chair while actually cleaning myself with one or both hands while attempting not to drown.

It felt incredibly good to be wet, but it took two full hours, and I was completely exhausted by the time it was over.  I'm willing to take it on faith that I will eventually learn to do it unassisted, but right now, it's hard to imagine how that is ever going to happen.

To the Pain

Today's blog post is dedicated to my physical therapist, Emily, who has not yet seen The Princess Bride.  I've been nagging her to watch it, and she has obtained a copy, but she has come up with questionable excuses the last 3 nights.  Maybe tonight.

Watch it now!

Today I want to talk about pain.  I've been experiencing a lot of it today, and it's starting to worry me a little.  Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be any real way to know if it's the kind of pain that I can safely push through, or if it's the kind of pain that indicates I'm hurting myself.

There are three major sources of pain on my body right now.  Obviously, my back hurts where they cut a huge hole and screwed in a bunch of hardware.  My left hand also hurts right in the middle of the back of my hand.  We're not sure if there is a broken bone, but I'm starting to suspect so.  I also have 2 or 3 broken ribs.  I'm not really sure how many exactly, but I think I have them on both sides.

Earlier this week, I thought all three pain sources were improving, but yesterday and today have felt very much like a setback in every area.

That new wheelchair they put me in this week is torture on my back.  I don't know if it's doing damage, but my back hurts any time I sit in it.  Just sitting in that chair makes me want to cry after a couple hours.

Yesterday, Rahalay, my occupational therapist, suggested I push my wheelchair differently.  I had been pushing the chair for a couple days with relatively little pain, but when I tried her suggestion, something popped in my hand, and now I can barely push the chair at all.  It's also much more painful to do almost anything with my left hand.  Since 80% of my body is completely non-functional, I have to do a LOT with my left hand.  I'm concerned this one is going to significantly slow down my rehab.

Today, Emily made me roll onto my stomach on one of the beds in the gym (tummy-time).  That hurt me a lot.  Initially, I thought the pain was caused by stretching the fused part of my spine in a weird way, but then she made me do a sort of shoulder pushup on my elbows and that actually felt better.  My conclusion is that I was putting all my weight on my broken ribs.  I think the broken ribs are very close to the line where I can't feel anything, and I think they probably don't hurt as much as they might because of that, but it seems that if I aggravate them sufficiently, I get to feel the pain.  Since the tummy-time incident, I can feel something pop when I breathe deeply, and it hurts more to laugh or to lie on my side.  I have to do all of that stuff constantly, so I'm concerned about what that means for my upcoming rehab sessions.

This is what I look like when I'm in pain.  In this case, it's from stretching out muscles that somebody recently cut up and sewed back together.

To control the pain during therapy sessions, I mostly rely on powerful drugs.  I used to use regular Morphine.  That stuff works like gangbusters, but I can never remember anything that happens when I'm on it.  That makes it not much fun, and I haven't used it since I moved here from Charlotte.  I now use a slow-release Morphine that works for 12 hours.  I'm not sure how effective it is, but I think it helps take the edge off, and critically, I don't notice my head getting fuzzy when I take it.  The pain med that does most of the heavy lifting for me these days is Percocet.  It works pretty well, but I hate the way it makes my head feel fuzzy.  I guess some people like that feeling, but I can't think clearly when I feel like that, and I don't enjoy that feeling at all.

I'm allowed to have 2 Percocet pills every 4 hours, so the schedule I have come up with has the night nurse wake me up at 7:00 AM to give me 2 pills.  They take almost an hour to start working so I go back to sleep until breakfast at 8:00.  The idea is to get them working in time for my therapy sessions which usually last from 10:00 to 12:00 most mornings.  At 11:00, I will take one or two more pills depending on how much therapy I have scheduled for the afternoon.

Once therapy is over, I generally won't take any more Percocet for the rest of the day unless my wheelchair is really killing my back and I can't get in bed yet.

Whenever I do ask the nurse for a Percocet, she always asks me to rate my pain on a scale from one to 10.  I take this ranking very seriously even though studies have shown it is a completely useless way to rate pain.   My friend, Bert, sent me a link that explains the situation hilariously.

I'm in bed right now, and not experiencing too much pain, but Andrew sprained his ankle while running this morning, and has been icing it and hobbling around all day.  It's unfortunate that he can't have any of my pain meds because in spite of all the pain I was in today, it still bothers me to see him limping around like a war hero when I need him to push me to dinner.

The Crash

This post is mostly for my friends who ride on the race track.  I know that whenever I hear that somebody has gotten hurt, the first question I have is 'How?'  The fact is that I don't remember much from the day of the crash, and I'm not entirely sure how I got hurt, but here's what I believe happened.

My leathers after they got done cutting them off me

I decided to do a track day at CMP (Carolina Motorsports Park) on April 22nd.  I wanted to test some changes I had made to the bike over the winter, and some of my friends were planning to ride that day.  When the date got closer, it looked like it was going to rain, so I moved my date up to April 21st.  My friends couldn't come that day so I would be riding alone.

This was the first track day I had done without a friend at the track, and the first track day I had done with the track day provider, Turn One Track Events.  I had some misgivings about the track day provider because they run cars and bikes on the same day, but my friends assured me they had ridden with them in the past and it was well run and safe.  I have no reason to dispute that opinion.  I don't think the provider contributed to my accident in any way.

I arrived at the track late Friday night, and set up my pit before I went to bed.  I slept in my van on an air mattress as usual.  Saturday morning, I took the bike through tech inspection, and made myself some coffee.  Bringing a coffee maker to the track was a first for me, and I enjoyed having it while I was getting ready.  That's the last thing I remember clearly from the day.

I know that Turn One runs the cars before it sends the bikes out, and a vaguely remember getting my gear on while the cars were on track.  I also vaguely remember that I was a little bit late getting on track for my first session.  I was okay with that.  I didn't want to rush to get on track.

I believe the crash happened on my first lap.  I believe I was caught off guard by the changes I had made to the bike over the winter.  I had changed the tail section of the bike to one that moves the seat an inch lower than I was used to.  This lowers the center of gravity of the bike and rider, but it also moves the rider's weight down and back.  I think it probably took weight off the front wheel of the bike.  That would have the effect of making the bike turn slower.  If I went through the kink at full throttle, it may have caused the bike not to turn fast enough to stay on the track.  I think that's what happened.  The kink is by far, the fastest turn on the track, and I should have backed off the throttle, but I don't usually have to do that, so I didn't.  I wasn't careful enough after making changes to the bike, and I rode off the track at well over 100 miles per hour.  I actually vaguely remember riding to the edge of the track.

Crash site

The damage to the bike was light, but it seems obvious that I was knocked unconscious.  I probably fell and was knocked out as soon as I left the track which prevented me from curling up in a protective position while I waited to stop sliding.  That's what happened to my friend, Wes, and it resulted in him being badly injured in a crash that should not have been severe.  I suspect that like Wes, I flopped around limply on the ground at high speed.  I suspect that this resulted in the severity of my injury.

I vaguely remember a paramedic telling me they were going to have to cut my leathers off.  I asked him why he had to tell me since they were going to do it regardless.  I'm sure by that point the helicopter was already inbound.  It may have been on site for all I know.

I don't remember the helicopter ride at all.  I do remember a surgeon telling me about the surgery to fuse my spine and asking my permission to perform it.  I asked him if I had a choice.  He said I had an option to do nothing, but that it wouldn't be a good idea.

Somehow, several of my friends got contacted, and my brother-in-law found time to come down and pick up my stuff from the track.

I'm not sure when I first realized exactly what had happened to me, but I do remember that kept my sense of humor about it.  At least I tried to.  I'm still trying.

 

Hangin' In There

Today was exhausting.  It started at 10:00 AM with a group of Elon students who wanted to film my first PT session in exchange for fifty bucks.  I figured that sort of attention would be a good motivator, and why wouldn't I want fifty bucks?  So Courtney made me do some transfers, and then made me lay down on the bed and sit back up a couple times.  I've made some big improvements, and she showed me a new trick to help with that, but it's still exhausting, and I had worked up a nice sweat by the time it was over.  I did, however, get a couple good laughs on camera, so I felt good about myself.

Next, I got to talk to a psychologist for an hour.  That was entertaining if relatively uneventful.  We talked about my reaction in that group meeting last week.  I think she thinks my attitude is healthy, but with psychologists, who knows what they're actually thinking.

Lunch was late as usual, and consisted of a baked potato and some seasoned carrots.  I don't necessarily need meat in a given meal, but that combination seemed like it was missing something.  Fortunately, Susy showed up for lunch with some cake from Nantucket Grill.  LOTS of cake.  DELICIOUS cake.  That made up for any other deficiencies lunch may have had.

Let them eat cake!

After lunch, Emily made me do exercises on my upper back muscles.  That was extremely difficult because I haven't used those muscles at all since the accident.  It is also difficult because I find it impossible to balance myself in a seated position while pulling my shoulders back.  I just can't do it.  Maybe one day, but not today.  That was exhausting and once again, I worked up a sweat.

Next, it was off to the Spinal Cord Injury Exercise Group.  As you might imagine, this is a bunch of guys in wheel chairs doing exercises with dumbbells or waving around large exercise balls.  This might not have been so bad except that I had to do it in the unstable chair I wrote about yesterday.  So any lifting had to be accompanied by a lot of frantically trying to hold myself in the chair.  I was ruined by the end of this session, but I still had another session to go.

Finally, Rahalay and Katie from Occupational Therapy took me into the bathroom and had me try a transfer to a shower chair that was much lower than my wheelchair.  That meant that the angle of the transfer board was really steep, and the transfer was really steep and difficult.  And scary.  I burned a lot of energy just worrying about falling off that board.

So I didn't finish all my therapy until 4:00PM.  That's later than usual, and there wasn't much time before dinner.  Once I got through dinner, and the nursing project that follows it, I had visitors at 7:00.

Titus and Brittany came to eat some food and play some Rummikub.  It's a fun game, and I had a great time with my neighbors as always, but now I'm tired and sore, and still up writing about it.

Eating at the cafeteria

Rummikub in the dining room

In addition to all the therapy, I had Andrew pushing me to work harder all day and do all my extra exercises.  Today was the first day that has been really just miserable from a physical standpoint.  I hurt all day, and I know I'm going to be sore all day tomorrow.  I guess this is what they're talking about when they say rehab is hard.  If there's more of this ahead, I'm ready.  I just hope the days aren't all like this.

Instability

Today, for PT, Emily put me in a different chair.  This one is more like the one I will ultimately end up in, but it's not terribly specialized or fancy.  I spent most of the day in that chair, and I learned a lot.  I also ended the day with some concerns that I hope will be addressed.

The chair I was given didn't have much "dump".  Dump is the amount of recline of the seat bottom and back.  Emily modified the chair a little to raise the front of the seat bottom and recline the back a little, but the seating position was still pretty upright.  I wouldn't complain if it was simply a comfort issue, but putting my body in an upright position puts certain requirements on me if I want to stay in the chair.  I'm sitting bolt upright, with no abdominal muscles to stabilize myself.  Therefore, if I extend my arms in front of myself, even a little bit, I tip forward and start to fall out of the chair.  This is extremely disconcerting.

If I keep my arms at my sides or behind me, I can remain upright.  I can also use the arm rests to stay up, but then I can't do anything else with my arms.  My therapists assure me it will get better although whether they expect me to somehow learn to deal with the situation or if they expect a subsequent chair to solve the problem remains a mystery.  Either way, I have to trust that they are right.  There is no way I can function in the situation that chair puts me in.  At dinner, I had to have Andrew cut my food because I could only use one hand at a time to eat because I had to use the other hand to prop myself in the chair.  If I tried to use 2 hands over the plate, I would have instantly been face down in it.

Andrew modeling my new chair

I'm also starting to get an idea of what it means to live in a chair.  Once she got me in the chair, Emily took me downstairs and over to another building for coffee.  I had to push most of the way.  I had help with all of the doors, but the experience was enough to illustrate how difficult all that is going to be on my own.  I take solace in the fact that I've met people who have lived in chairs for decades, and they have obviously figured all this stuff out, but I'm still getting a little nervous about whether, and when I'll figure it all out.

Andrew

My brother is gone now, and my cousin, Andrew, is here to replace him.  Today was Andrew's first full day after Jonathan left, and I have to say I am really excited to have him.  He has jumped in with both feet, and has assumed the roles of both assistant and coach.  He's been constantly reminding me to use my incentive spirometer to exercise my lungs, and to ice my wrist and do my wrist exercises, and has offered to help me with leg stretches since flexibility is one of the biggest things holding me back in PT right now.  I couldn't be happier to have him here.

Andrew taking a well-deserved break with some Tom Clancy

Bonus

Today, I had my bonus rehab.  I usually get a little rehab on one of the weekend days, and today was that day.  Also, as another bonus, Bert and Ashley brought Simon to visit for lunch.

Simon and Ashley

When he got tired, they dropped him off for a nap and came back to watch my rehab.  I'm always pleased to see Bert and Ashley.  Bert is the funniest person I know, and Ashley is one of the nicest.  Ashley is also a doctor who did her med school here at UNC, so she knows her way around this hospital, and understands my condition better than anyone I know.

Jonathan and Andrew were also at rehab, so I had a huge audience to show off for.  I definitely find that I try harder when people are watching.  That group also represented a collection of several of the funniest people I know, so I did a whole lot of laughing during rehab today.  I told Bert afterward that I think I enjoy having an audience for rehab more than I realized.  It really is a huge motivator.

One day, they're going to teach me to do real wheelies

I also had another first today.  I was able to hand-walk from the bed to the wheel chair without the use of the board for a bridge.  I'm not sure it was the most major milestone, but it still felt really good.

Harder than it looks

But not impossible