So... it's been a while. It's been a while for a couple of reasons. The primary reason is that I started this blog for one specific purpose. That purpose was to spread the word about life as a paraplegic. Telling the story of my accident and some anecdotes of my time in the hospital are a great vehicle with which to convey a lot of the earliest issues I discovered about being a paraplegic. However, this blog is not meant to be a narrative of my injury and recovery. It is not meant to chronicle everything that happened to me in the hospital. Mostly because that would get repetitive very quickly both in substance and with any wisdom that could be gleaned from those experiences.
So while my posts may be few and far between now and then, they will continue when an issue, a story, an event, or problem compels me to share it. Maybe at some point in the future I will tell the story of my injury and recovery, but this is not /specifically/ it.
On to the subject of this post. When a man goes out to run an errand, by himself, it is almost certainly a guarantee that he is doing so because he is confident he can accomplish the errand by himself, without help. If that man happens to be a paraplegic then you can be sure that he is confident, independent and capable of asking for help.
I was just at the grocery store supplementing our stock of fruit and lunch making materials for the coming week. I used one of those hand baskets that can sit on my lap. I love those things. Big grocery karts are cumbersome and difficult for me to maneuver, though I am capable of doing that as well. In my basket I had a watermelon, two packages of lunch meat, a bag of five apples, and (Reasor's has a deal on ice cream right now by the way) two half gallons of Blue Bell ice cream. Mostly because of the watermelon, the basket was heavy (that's important.)
When I reached the check out I unloaded most of the items myself up onto the counter. Without asking the woman at the register walked around the register and lifted the watermelon out and took the basket and put it with others customers had used.
Now, I'd like to take a moment to point out two things. First, I'm aware that her intentions were both a habit and good natured. And second, that I needed the basket to carry my groceries to the car once I'd paid. I know it shouldn't have irritated me but it did; both because if I was able to lift the watermelon into the basket to start with, I could certainly lift it out and because I do know my limitations and I knew that I'd need the basket to get the groceries to the car.
Please do not assume that a person with a disability NEEDS help. A well adjusted, independent para, quad, or anyone with any other kind of disability is acutely aware of their limitations. I appreciate the fact that she thought she was helping, and I would obviously much rather experience this kind of ignorance than someone making derogatory remarks about my injury, but both are offensive. She assumed I was unable, and therefore I felt like I should be unable. I never feel more disabled than when people assume I am.
I am just a man in a wheelchair. All assumptions are off.
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Thursday, May 29, 2014
"HEY! Listen!"
Urinary tract infections are common in hospital settings. They are even more common for SCIs and those who are using, learning to use, and experimenting with catheterization. They are so common in fact, that the possible symptoms of a UTI are among those things that are drilled into our heads from the beginning of our time in rehab.
I, myself, had a number of UTIs. The one I remember least fondly was probably a month or so into my stay and it was a doozy. Generally a UTI is an infection in the urethra. It's caused by bacteria getting into that area. That's why intermittent catheterization can cause them unless absolutely sterile conditions are always involved.
Normally a simple IV and antibiotics would suffice. This particular UTI, though, required a much more potent antibiotic. It was so potent that after only a day or so it was painful when it hit my veins. So they switched wrists. The nurse that was trying to put it in my other wrist was so bad at it that I developed a fear of needles that continued for the duration of my stay.
Finally, they inserted a PICC line. A PICC line is kind of a super IV. An IV is inserted at the elbow and a length of thin medical tubing is fed into the vein. It leads up the shoulder within the vein so that the antibiotic can be administered into a tougher veined area. It freaked me out more than a little, the idea of having this tubing going through my body, even if it was just part of one arm. The UTI took a week or more to go away.
It wasn't until I was home and having to get my blood drawn every week that I forced myself to get over my fear of needles. I realized that it was something I was going to have to get used to. Fortunately, I only get my blood drawn as frequently as anyone else now. To this day I monitor myself for the signs of a UTI. Hopefully, I never get one that serious again.
I, myself, had a number of UTIs. The one I remember least fondly was probably a month or so into my stay and it was a doozy. Generally a UTI is an infection in the urethra. It's caused by bacteria getting into that area. That's why intermittent catheterization can cause them unless absolutely sterile conditions are always involved.
Normally a simple IV and antibiotics would suffice. This particular UTI, though, required a much more potent antibiotic. It was so potent that after only a day or so it was painful when it hit my veins. So they switched wrists. The nurse that was trying to put it in my other wrist was so bad at it that I developed a fear of needles that continued for the duration of my stay.
Finally, they inserted a PICC line. A PICC line is kind of a super IV. An IV is inserted at the elbow and a length of thin medical tubing is fed into the vein. It leads up the shoulder within the vein so that the antibiotic can be administered into a tougher veined area. It freaked me out more than a little, the idea of having this tubing going through my body, even if it was just part of one arm. The UTI took a week or more to go away.
It wasn't until I was home and having to get my blood drawn every week that I forced myself to get over my fear of needles. I realized that it was something I was going to have to get used to. Fortunately, I only get my blood drawn as frequently as anyone else now. To this day I monitor myself for the signs of a UTI. Hopefully, I never get one that serious again.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
"Everybody's makin' a fuss..."
A big problem post SCI is blood circulation. The body is designed to be mobile. Not to sit around in a chair all the time. Laying down at night isn't good enough either. Legs are meant to be moved often, arms and shoulders aren't, and our skin tends to like not being pressed on all day every day.
Because of these facts there are a few ailments that can tend to befall a para or quad if they're not careful. Firstly, are blood clots. These like to form in the legs; though they can form anywhere. I, myself, got one in my left lung towards the end of my stay at Craig. But a blood clot in the leg is much more common.
Early in my stay at Craig I had to wear these really tight socks that were supposed to help with blood circulation in the legs. All I knew at the time is that they seemed very difficult to get on and off and I am glad I don't have to wear them anymore.
We were taught to look for symptoms though. For... possibly the entire time I was there, maybe only the beginning (I can't recall,) they would measure the circumference of my legs every morning and evening to make sure that they were not swollen or, more importantly that they were approximately the same size. When one leg has a blood clot it swells, significantly. It also tends to be warmer due tot he excess blood and be reddish in color.
Secondly, there is a side effect of paralysis that is tied to blood pressure and is potentially life threatening, more so than a blood clot. Autonomic Hyperreflexia, or AH, is caused by a sudden spike in blood pressure. It is most common in those with spinal cord injuries T6 or higher. If you recall from one of my early posts I am well above that. The fact that one's blood pressure is spiking means that if the cause is not seen to, it could be life threatening.
When AH kicks in the symptoms are immediate and obvious: a throbbing headache, sweating, redness of the skin, nasal stuffiness, and intense anxiety. The way I had it described to me is that there is something wrong below the level of injury and the body is trying everything it can to tell your brain what it is. So you get all of these signals going off and immediate action needs to be taken.
Most of the time it's simple: I need to pee. Bladder infections and bowel obstruction are common causes of AH and urinating may relieve the pressure causing the reaction.
The point is, I spent a long time reminding myself of these symptoms and what they could mean. I carry a laminated card in my wallet (Craig's idea) to give to paramedics who might be attending to me to let them know to be on the look out for those symptoms. I am not as constantly vigilant any more because it is automatic now. I have felt the sensations once, and hope never to again.
Lastly, pressure sores. I think everyone has heard of bed sores. We tend to warn lazy people who sleep in a lot that they'll get them if they're not careful. Well for paras and quads they are a very real and constant concern.
I sit. All day. On my butt. And due to a VERY active nerve at the top of my left leg, I can only sleep comfortably on my back or right side. So my back side doesn't get a lot of relief. If you have spent much time around me at all you have probably noticed that I shift around a lot, lift myself up for a second or two every few minutes, and maybe squirm a bit. I'm not doing it because I'm being impatient or ADHD or anything. I am doing it out of habit.
Very early on at Craig none of us could sit upright for more than a few minutes at a time. We just weren't used to it. But we had to push ourselves to get stronger. Not only that, but we couldn't just lie in bed. So in our primitive wheelchairs we would be tilted backward into a reclining position every 20 minutes. We even wore little timers that would go off to remind us. Why? Because pressure sores are so incredibly difficult to heal. Especially when you sit on them all the time.
Gradually, as we got stronger and the habit of shifting every 20 minutes became automatic, we lost the timers. It really is habit for me now to move around every few minutes to prevent pressure sores. But hey, it works. I haven't gotten a sore yet. I check most every night to make sure.... /knock on wood...
Because of these facts there are a few ailments that can tend to befall a para or quad if they're not careful. Firstly, are blood clots. These like to form in the legs; though they can form anywhere. I, myself, got one in my left lung towards the end of my stay at Craig. But a blood clot in the leg is much more common.
Early in my stay at Craig I had to wear these really tight socks that were supposed to help with blood circulation in the legs. All I knew at the time is that they seemed very difficult to get on and off and I am glad I don't have to wear them anymore.
We were taught to look for symptoms though. For... possibly the entire time I was there, maybe only the beginning (I can't recall,) they would measure the circumference of my legs every morning and evening to make sure that they were not swollen or, more importantly that they were approximately the same size. When one leg has a blood clot it swells, significantly. It also tends to be warmer due tot he excess blood and be reddish in color.
Secondly, there is a side effect of paralysis that is tied to blood pressure and is potentially life threatening, more so than a blood clot. Autonomic Hyperreflexia, or AH, is caused by a sudden spike in blood pressure. It is most common in those with spinal cord injuries T6 or higher. If you recall from one of my early posts I am well above that. The fact that one's blood pressure is spiking means that if the cause is not seen to, it could be life threatening.
When AH kicks in the symptoms are immediate and obvious: a throbbing headache, sweating, redness of the skin, nasal stuffiness, and intense anxiety. The way I had it described to me is that there is something wrong below the level of injury and the body is trying everything it can to tell your brain what it is. So you get all of these signals going off and immediate action needs to be taken.
Most of the time it's simple: I need to pee. Bladder infections and bowel obstruction are common causes of AH and urinating may relieve the pressure causing the reaction.
The point is, I spent a long time reminding myself of these symptoms and what they could mean. I carry a laminated card in my wallet (Craig's idea) to give to paramedics who might be attending to me to let them know to be on the look out for those symptoms. I am not as constantly vigilant any more because it is automatic now. I have felt the sensations once, and hope never to again.
Lastly, pressure sores. I think everyone has heard of bed sores. We tend to warn lazy people who sleep in a lot that they'll get them if they're not careful. Well for paras and quads they are a very real and constant concern.
I sit. All day. On my butt. And due to a VERY active nerve at the top of my left leg, I can only sleep comfortably on my back or right side. So my back side doesn't get a lot of relief. If you have spent much time around me at all you have probably noticed that I shift around a lot, lift myself up for a second or two every few minutes, and maybe squirm a bit. I'm not doing it because I'm being impatient or ADHD or anything. I am doing it out of habit.
Very early on at Craig none of us could sit upright for more than a few minutes at a time. We just weren't used to it. But we had to push ourselves to get stronger. Not only that, but we couldn't just lie in bed. So in our primitive wheelchairs we would be tilted backward into a reclining position every 20 minutes. We even wore little timers that would go off to remind us. Why? Because pressure sores are so incredibly difficult to heal. Especially when you sit on them all the time.
Gradually, as we got stronger and the habit of shifting every 20 minutes became automatic, we lost the timers. It really is habit for me now to move around every few minutes to prevent pressure sores. But hey, it works. I haven't gotten a sore yet. I check most every night to make sure.... /knock on wood...
Thursday, May 15, 2014
"The more you learn the less your enemy will know."
In one of my earlier posts I mentioned that my short term goal at Craig was to not have a bag of pee hanging off of my leg. That is, I didn't want to be catheterized 24/7. I was picturing myself back home, playing video games in my buddy's basement with a group of friends, and the embarrassment of the catheter on my leg.
This may seem like a short sighted goal to you. Shouldn't I have wanted to walk out of there? Shouldn't I have wanted to be healed? At the time all I wanted was to get back to life as I knew it. I wanted to be home, with my friends, and I wanted independence again. I couldn't be independent if I was constantly monitoring the fullness of the catheter and the accessibility of whatever bathroom was closest.Let me tell you that one of my biggest frustrations is that few private bathrooms have doorways wide enough to get a wheelchair through.
More than that though, I wanted to have at least one small amount of control over my body. I wanted to be able to actually control something that my body was suddenly incapable of doing.
There are basically three options for this issue. The first is to have a catheter inserted with the bag. That's probably what most people think of when they think of being catheterized. A second option is surgical insertion of a catheter through the abdomen and into the bladder. This method is generally chosen by people for whom the catheter might from the first method might be an obstacle... for stuff. *cough cough* The third method is intermittent catheterizing. Basically, the use of disposable catheters every few hours.
There are two types of disposable catheters. There are self contained catheters, that I can carry with I and use in a public or otherwise not-my-own bathroom. The others are simple catheters that I connect with an extender that empties directly into the toilet. These are generally just used at home due to their "some assembly required" nature. This presents a problem. If I forget the first kind of catheter, or for some reason need to use all that I have... well it presents an obvious problem.
That's the primary reason I carry a backpack on the back of my chair. I have to keep plenty of those handy.
This may seem like a short sighted goal to you. Shouldn't I have wanted to walk out of there? Shouldn't I have wanted to be healed? At the time all I wanted was to get back to life as I knew it. I wanted to be home, with my friends, and I wanted independence again. I couldn't be independent if I was constantly monitoring the fullness of the catheter and the accessibility of whatever bathroom was closest.Let me tell you that one of my biggest frustrations is that few private bathrooms have doorways wide enough to get a wheelchair through.
More than that though, I wanted to have at least one small amount of control over my body. I wanted to be able to actually control something that my body was suddenly incapable of doing.
There are basically three options for this issue. The first is to have a catheter inserted with the bag. That's probably what most people think of when they think of being catheterized. A second option is surgical insertion of a catheter through the abdomen and into the bladder. This method is generally chosen by people for whom the catheter might from the first method might be an obstacle... for stuff. *cough cough* The third method is intermittent catheterizing. Basically, the use of disposable catheters every few hours.
There are two types of disposable catheters. There are self contained catheters, that I can carry with I and use in a public or otherwise not-my-own bathroom. The others are simple catheters that I connect with an extender that empties directly into the toilet. These are generally just used at home due to their "some assembly required" nature. This presents a problem. If I forget the first kind of catheter, or for some reason need to use all that I have... well it presents an obvious problem.
That's the primary reason I carry a backpack on the back of my chair. I have to keep plenty of those handy.
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
"I have the greatest friends that ever could be found."
My parents and immediate family have extensive notes from both my accident and my time in Colorado. The first book of notes extensively details everyone who visited me during my stay at Saint Francis in Tulsa. They not only listed who came to visit but also who called to check in. Let me tell you, it's astounding. So many friends and family, not only of mine but of my parents, came to visit. I just went through it yesterday and I confess that I do not know all of the names in there. And yet they came to support me and my family.
While I was drugged up and numb most of my time there my parents were left mostly in a waiting room. If it weren't for these visits then I'm sure their already worried states of mind would have evolved into full blown psychoses. A coworker of my dad's even brought a home cooked Sunday dinner packed into a suitcase for them; complete with plates and silverware. This is friendship.
While I was in Colorado I had almost weekly visitors from home. Almost every weekend someone came to visit. Family, friends, fellow members of First Baptist Church - Tulsa; they all made the journey to see me. As a teenager whose Senior year of high school had been interrupted I am sure you can understand how important it was to see them all. I desperately missed home and dreamed all week every week for news from home.
Not only did so many people come and see me but I had care packages, post cards, gifts, and a lot more sent to me. It was more than a little overwhelming. People I had never met were sending me movies and books to keep my spirits up during rehab. Kirsten and my two best friends at the time were always getting news of my days and spreading the word at school. I knew that when I finally made it home that I would be blown away by how many people knew everything about me.
Every day my mom would call and talk to my aunt about what I had done that day and the progress I had made. My aunt would then email it to a list of people who had asked to be updated. Those people would then forward the emails to everyone they knew and prayer groups. The outpouring of support that I got was absolutely enormous. I know the success that I had at the time was due to their prayers and support.
Such support is vitally important to someone who has been through such a traumatic experience. I had been hurt, disabled, and flung across the country away from almost everyone that I knew. I was young and had been completely stripped of my independence. In these situations support is the most important thing of all for not only the physical strength and will power necessary to physically recover, but also to recover emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
I could very easily have given up and discarded my faith as a hoax. I mean what kind of God would cripple an 18 year old man with so much ahead of him? A God who knows, that's who. A god who knows what is to come and what path I will follow if left without a guiding event.
We all have an events that set the tone for periods of our lives; for better or for worse. My accident continues to define me. Not because of what I lost, but because of what I became aware of that I had. The outpouring of support and the things that have happened to me since make my injury well worth it. I would not undo it if I could. I have known that since it happened and have never questioned that sentiment.
While I was drugged up and numb most of my time there my parents were left mostly in a waiting room. If it weren't for these visits then I'm sure their already worried states of mind would have evolved into full blown psychoses. A coworker of my dad's even brought a home cooked Sunday dinner packed into a suitcase for them; complete with plates and silverware. This is friendship.
While I was in Colorado I had almost weekly visitors from home. Almost every weekend someone came to visit. Family, friends, fellow members of First Baptist Church - Tulsa; they all made the journey to see me. As a teenager whose Senior year of high school had been interrupted I am sure you can understand how important it was to see them all. I desperately missed home and dreamed all week every week for news from home.
Not only did so many people come and see me but I had care packages, post cards, gifts, and a lot more sent to me. It was more than a little overwhelming. People I had never met were sending me movies and books to keep my spirits up during rehab. Kirsten and my two best friends at the time were always getting news of my days and spreading the word at school. I knew that when I finally made it home that I would be blown away by how many people knew everything about me.
Every day my mom would call and talk to my aunt about what I had done that day and the progress I had made. My aunt would then email it to a list of people who had asked to be updated. Those people would then forward the emails to everyone they knew and prayer groups. The outpouring of support that I got was absolutely enormous. I know the success that I had at the time was due to their prayers and support.
Such support is vitally important to someone who has been through such a traumatic experience. I had been hurt, disabled, and flung across the country away from almost everyone that I knew. I was young and had been completely stripped of my independence. In these situations support is the most important thing of all for not only the physical strength and will power necessary to physically recover, but also to recover emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
I could very easily have given up and discarded my faith as a hoax. I mean what kind of God would cripple an 18 year old man with so much ahead of him? A God who knows, that's who. A god who knows what is to come and what path I will follow if left without a guiding event.
We all have an events that set the tone for periods of our lives; for better or for worse. My accident continues to define me. Not because of what I lost, but because of what I became aware of that I had. The outpouring of support and the things that have happened to me since make my injury well worth it. I would not undo it if I could. I have known that since it happened and have never questioned that sentiment.
Monday, May 12, 2014
"All of these scars should have been stains that were never washed."
In my accident I had cuts all over my face, hands, and arms. I'm also a typical male and once my wounds developed scabs I couldn't help but pick at them. My mom and my nurses all told me that if I picked at them then they would scar. Awesome.
My most prominent scars are on my hands and forearms. Someone once told me that they're almost like ones that might be attributed to a dog attack. I realize I don't need more of one than my chair, but to me they're an outward sign of what happened to me. My chair is a tool, but these scars are in my skin. They're important.
Of course my coolest scar is the one on my back. As I mentioned early on, I had surgery here in Tulsa to have titanium rods attached to my spine. The scar from that surgery is often called my "Matrix scar."
You know the scar Neo has on his back after he's unplugged from the Matrix? It looks like that. Keep it to yourself if you disagree; the comparison pleases me.
Anything that traumatizes, heals, or helps us grow leaves scars. They're not always visible, but they're there. My nurses gave me some cream or gel to rub into my scars to make them go away or obscure them partially. What would I want to do that for? It's not like people can't see that I'm in a wheelchair. My scars are part of who I am now. Plus I think they look really cool.
My most prominent scars are on my hands and forearms. Someone once told me that they're almost like ones that might be attributed to a dog attack. I realize I don't need more of one than my chair, but to me they're an outward sign of what happened to me. My chair is a tool, but these scars are in my skin. They're important.
Of course my coolest scar is the one on my back. As I mentioned early on, I had surgery here in Tulsa to have titanium rods attached to my spine. The scar from that surgery is often called my "Matrix scar."You know the scar Neo has on his back after he's unplugged from the Matrix? It looks like that. Keep it to yourself if you disagree; the comparison pleases me.
Anything that traumatizes, heals, or helps us grow leaves scars. They're not always visible, but they're there. My nurses gave me some cream or gel to rub into my scars to make them go away or obscure them partially. What would I want to do that for? It's not like people can't see that I'm in a wheelchair. My scars are part of who I am now. Plus I think they look really cool.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
"That's not ironic it's just coincidental."
Muscle spasms. Pretty much the bane of my existence after stairs.
How they work is that muscles, though unconnected from the brain, are still designed to move. The same is true of anyone, even non-paras or quads. Have you been sitting, bored, and your leg just started bouncing? It's not a conscious action, it just happens. That's basically what happens when a para or quad's muscles start spasming, but they can't stop it by just... trying to.
Muscle spasms don't start immediately after injury, and some paras and quads don't get them at all. During rehab I would have a meeting with my whole "team" (doctors, therapists, etc.) We would get together and compare notes and prognoses. Well once, maybe a month in, I was in one of these meetings and my doctor first told me about spasms. He said that they generally happen with leg muscles but could really happen with any muscle group that the paralysis effects. So for me, any muscle from the chest down.
The funny thing is, that within and hour of that meeting I had my first spasm. Let me tell you; it's bizarre. For a month the only muscles I could properly control where in my shoulders and arms. Even my neck was out of commission due to the brace I was wearing. Then, suddenly, my legs are bouncing up and down. The sensation went from bizarre, to awesome, to irritating quite quickly.
Anything can cause a muscle spasm. The most common cause for me is an uneven sidewalk. Or a brick sidewalk. I hate those. I know that they're pretty, but a bump every few inches means I really can't carry anything on my lap because my legs are GOING to spasm and I'll drop it. Concrete slab sidewalks are my best friends.
Other causes are: shift a covering bed sheet, bumping into something, or the briefest touch. The most terrifying is when my abs spasm while I'm in the shower or something like that. The chair I use in the shower is not the most stable of platforms, it's even less comfortable. But the water hitting my skin can sometimes, rarely, make my abs spasm which almost throws me from my chair. My legs and waist straighten extremely fast and my legs then start shaking. Add to that the not super stable chair and my heart starts hammering quickly due to the adrenaline.
Spasms do have a plus side. They help maintain muscle tone and blood flow. They help prevent blood clots and muscle atrophy. So they're annoying, but extremely important.
How they work is that muscles, though unconnected from the brain, are still designed to move. The same is true of anyone, even non-paras or quads. Have you been sitting, bored, and your leg just started bouncing? It's not a conscious action, it just happens. That's basically what happens when a para or quad's muscles start spasming, but they can't stop it by just... trying to.
Muscle spasms don't start immediately after injury, and some paras and quads don't get them at all. During rehab I would have a meeting with my whole "team" (doctors, therapists, etc.) We would get together and compare notes and prognoses. Well once, maybe a month in, I was in one of these meetings and my doctor first told me about spasms. He said that they generally happen with leg muscles but could really happen with any muscle group that the paralysis effects. So for me, any muscle from the chest down.
The funny thing is, that within and hour of that meeting I had my first spasm. Let me tell you; it's bizarre. For a month the only muscles I could properly control where in my shoulders and arms. Even my neck was out of commission due to the brace I was wearing. Then, suddenly, my legs are bouncing up and down. The sensation went from bizarre, to awesome, to irritating quite quickly.
Anything can cause a muscle spasm. The most common cause for me is an uneven sidewalk. Or a brick sidewalk. I hate those. I know that they're pretty, but a bump every few inches means I really can't carry anything on my lap because my legs are GOING to spasm and I'll drop it. Concrete slab sidewalks are my best friends.
Other causes are: shift a covering bed sheet, bumping into something, or the briefest touch. The most terrifying is when my abs spasm while I'm in the shower or something like that. The chair I use in the shower is not the most stable of platforms, it's even less comfortable. But the water hitting my skin can sometimes, rarely, make my abs spasm which almost throws me from my chair. My legs and waist straighten extremely fast and my legs then start shaking. Add to that the not super stable chair and my heart starts hammering quickly due to the adrenaline.
Spasms do have a plus side. They help maintain muscle tone and blood flow. They help prevent blood clots and muscle atrophy. So they're annoying, but extremely important.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
"It's dangerous to go alone. Take this!"
Occupational therapy was probably the most frustrating rehab class for me. This "class," for lack of a better word, was designed to reteach us the basic life skills that were now much harder. It was in class that I practiced vacuuming, shopping, cooking, sweeping, GETTING DRESSED! That last one was probably the most frustrating thing of all. Most people take it for granted. Hold the pants out, step in to them one leg at a time, pull them up, button, go. What if you couldn't move your legs? What if you couldn't move your waist? What if you had to literally everything with your hands, arms, and shoulders.
I didn't actually master that skill until after I was home. Necessity is the mother of invention right? Well, the way that I figured out to do it was to do it lying down on the bed, sit up, and kind of pull my knees up into a jack-knifed position. Then, with my pants lying out on the bed, I place my feet into them and then pull the leg up over my knee. Then, I'm able to pull them all they way up. I generally have to roll from side to side a few times to make sure my underwear isn't all bunched up... I can't exactly feel that it's uncomfortable, but I remember that it should be, so I make sure they're not.
Wheelchair class... that was a blast. I'll be one of the first to say that today's world is not wheelchair friendly. At all. More than once I've needed to get into a store or down a step and I'm able to pop a wheel and go up or down the step. Basically, this class was intended to teach us how to cope with an unfriendly environment. What if we were on an upstairs level, by ourselves, and the elevator is out? I could get down. What if there are no power doors? I can open them. What if the terrain is uneven? I can navigate it.
The best part of that class, other than the wheelies, was Go Ball. It was a great game that inspired team work and was just plain fun. The idea was that we used a duct tape wrapped Nerf football and passed it to each team member before we could attempt to score. Scoring involved hitting a floor mat that had been attached to the wall. We weren't supposed to grab on to the chairs of the opposing team... but that really didn't stop us. We played some kind of game every Friday, it was almost always Go Ball.
I didn't actually master that skill until after I was home. Necessity is the mother of invention right? Well, the way that I figured out to do it was to do it lying down on the bed, sit up, and kind of pull my knees up into a jack-knifed position. Then, with my pants lying out on the bed, I place my feet into them and then pull the leg up over my knee. Then, I'm able to pull them all they way up. I generally have to roll from side to side a few times to make sure my underwear isn't all bunched up... I can't exactly feel that it's uncomfortable, but I remember that it should be, so I make sure they're not.
Wheelchair class... that was a blast. I'll be one of the first to say that today's world is not wheelchair friendly. At all. More than once I've needed to get into a store or down a step and I'm able to pop a wheel and go up or down the step. Basically, this class was intended to teach us how to cope with an unfriendly environment. What if we were on an upstairs level, by ourselves, and the elevator is out? I could get down. What if there are no power doors? I can open them. What if the terrain is uneven? I can navigate it.
The best part of that class, other than the wheelies, was Go Ball. It was a great game that inspired team work and was just plain fun. The idea was that we used a duct tape wrapped Nerf football and passed it to each team member before we could attempt to score. Scoring involved hitting a floor mat that had been attached to the wall. We weren't supposed to grab on to the chairs of the opposing team... but that really didn't stop us. We played some kind of game every Friday, it was almost always Go Ball.
Monday, May 5, 2014
"You must unlearn what you have learned."
The doctors at Craig had several priorities. The first was stabilization of any injuries. My back was stabilized in Tulsa. Neck breaks are a much more difficult thing to stabilize, as the head is so necessary for most observation and movement. At first there was talk about putting me in a halo collar.
The idea of actually having screws in my head terrified me. Luckily, this wasn't necessary. Instead, I was able to wear the much more comfortable J-Collar.
This pretty effectively prevented me from moving my neck at all. There was another brace that I wore in the shower... I can't remember what it was called, but this one was pretty much my constant companion.
It made things difficult. There were a lot of things that were mandatory for release that I couldn't do until my neck was fully healed. I'll get to those at some point in the future.
Once my neck was stabilized I could resume the other rehabilitation exercises that dominated my days.
Once a week a tech came around and put a schedule on each of our walls. Rehab started early every day and went until late afternoon. Considering we were all broken and sick this really was army-like. We had physical therapy, occupational therapy, strength training, appointments with all kinds of doctors, alumni of Craig coming in to talk to us about life as paraplegics, wheelchair class, and others besides.
Physical therapy mostly had to do with making sure we could physically handle the changes that had happened. Our joints were stretched and tightened using range of motion exercises, we would practice transferring from the exercise mats back to our chairs, we even had to practice sitting up from a prone position. Everything was incredibly hard. I can remember being driven to the verge of tears every time I had to start relearning how to do something that had been so basic before.
Things got easier slowly. Since I was eating again, my strength and stamina both increased. In the beginning there were days that I could barely get out of bed or even sit up straight for more than ten minutes at a time. But they pushed us. They had to. There was never a day when we didn't see improvement.
-
The images were taken from http://orthotape.com/images/products/Default/neck/miamiJ_collar.JPG and http://www.spineuniverse.com/conditions/spinal-cord-injury/halo-brace-use-cervical-fractures respectively.
As always, please share this post with anyone you think would find it interesting. Please comment and ask questions if you have any!
The idea of actually having screws in my head terrified me. Luckily, this wasn't necessary. Instead, I was able to wear the much more comfortable J-Collar.
This pretty effectively prevented me from moving my neck at all. There was another brace that I wore in the shower... I can't remember what it was called, but this one was pretty much my constant companion.
It made things difficult. There were a lot of things that were mandatory for release that I couldn't do until my neck was fully healed. I'll get to those at some point in the future.
Once my neck was stabilized I could resume the other rehabilitation exercises that dominated my days.
Once a week a tech came around and put a schedule on each of our walls. Rehab started early every day and went until late afternoon. Considering we were all broken and sick this really was army-like. We had physical therapy, occupational therapy, strength training, appointments with all kinds of doctors, alumni of Craig coming in to talk to us about life as paraplegics, wheelchair class, and others besides.
Physical therapy mostly had to do with making sure we could physically handle the changes that had happened. Our joints were stretched and tightened using range of motion exercises, we would practice transferring from the exercise mats back to our chairs, we even had to practice sitting up from a prone position. Everything was incredibly hard. I can remember being driven to the verge of tears every time I had to start relearning how to do something that had been so basic before.
Things got easier slowly. Since I was eating again, my strength and stamina both increased. In the beginning there were days that I could barely get out of bed or even sit up straight for more than ten minutes at a time. But they pushed us. They had to. There was never a day when we didn't see improvement.
-
The images were taken from http://orthotape.com/images/products/Default/neck/miamiJ_collar.JPG and http://www.spineuniverse.com/conditions/spinal-cord-injury/halo-brace-use-cervical-fractures respectively.
As always, please share this post with anyone you think would find it interesting. Please comment and ask questions if you have any!
Saturday, May 3, 2014
"We've done the impossible, and that makes us mighty."
So I was hurt. I was hurt, my memory of the events was missing, and I had relocated to another state, another time zone.
All in all the experience was disorienting.
From the day I arrived at Craig my memories became much clearer. In order to make sure if my injury was complete or incomplete they had to test if I could feel all over my body. In order to do this, they touched a feather and poked a small needle literally all over my body. The result was that I couldn't feel the feather at all. But I could feel the needle... in places.
That was it. Just the tiniest pinprick. It was enough. It meant that my spinal cord was NOT severed. It meant that there was a chance I could walk.
Spinal cords are very VERY complicated. My injury was just a bruise, but spinal cords don't heal quickly, or even sometimes at all. The fact that I am not walking today means that my spinal cord is still bruised. There's a damaged portion that prevents all of the information from passing through my nerves.
Craig itself is divided into three floors. The first floor is all outpatient. The second is specifically closed-head injuries. The third is for spinal cord injuries. Even among those of us on the third floor there are two groups: Paraplegics and Quadriplegics.
Remember on my second post I said that I had broken my neck as well? Well that was discovered after I had another set of x-rays and the like once I got to Craig. Nurses and techs came rushing in while I was doing some preliminary physical therapy and told me to stop moving and lay perfectly still. Apparently it was a small miracle that I hadn't been more injured. Had my spinal cord been damaged at the C2 level I would not only have been a quad, but the injury would have restricted some of my ability to breath, meaning I would have been on a respirator.
Originally I was only supposed to be at Craig for two months, 60 days. But having a broken neck slowed things down. It was going to be closer to three months before I'd see home again.
Fortunately, I had some company. I resisted at first but eventually I made some great friends. We were a weird bunch, and all injured differently. I have to say that I would not remember my rigorous time in the hospital so fondly if it weren't for them.
-
As I close my post today I would like to mention once again that I thank you all for supporting my efforts here. Please share this with as many people as possible, especially those that may have been recently injured.
Also, I encourage you to ask questions and leave comments. Ask anything. If it's too personal, which I doubt it will be, leave a method for me to contact you privately, and I will do so.
Also also, there should be a space towards the bottom of this page that allows to you subscribe to this blog. Enter your email address and you will receive emails when I update. This will also provide another method of spreading the word.
All in all the experience was disorienting.
From the day I arrived at Craig my memories became much clearer. In order to make sure if my injury was complete or incomplete they had to test if I could feel all over my body. In order to do this, they touched a feather and poked a small needle literally all over my body. The result was that I couldn't feel the feather at all. But I could feel the needle... in places.
That was it. Just the tiniest pinprick. It was enough. It meant that my spinal cord was NOT severed. It meant that there was a chance I could walk.
Spinal cords are very VERY complicated. My injury was just a bruise, but spinal cords don't heal quickly, or even sometimes at all. The fact that I am not walking today means that my spinal cord is still bruised. There's a damaged portion that prevents all of the information from passing through my nerves.
Craig itself is divided into three floors. The first floor is all outpatient. The second is specifically closed-head injuries. The third is for spinal cord injuries. Even among those of us on the third floor there are two groups: Paraplegics and Quadriplegics.
Remember on my second post I said that I had broken my neck as well? Well that was discovered after I had another set of x-rays and the like once I got to Craig. Nurses and techs came rushing in while I was doing some preliminary physical therapy and told me to stop moving and lay perfectly still. Apparently it was a small miracle that I hadn't been more injured. Had my spinal cord been damaged at the C2 level I would not only have been a quad, but the injury would have restricted some of my ability to breath, meaning I would have been on a respirator.
Originally I was only supposed to be at Craig for two months, 60 days. But having a broken neck slowed things down. It was going to be closer to three months before I'd see home again.
Fortunately, I had some company. I resisted at first but eventually I made some great friends. We were a weird bunch, and all injured differently. I have to say that I would not remember my rigorous time in the hospital so fondly if it weren't for them.
-
As I close my post today I would like to mention once again that I thank you all for supporting my efforts here. Please share this with as many people as possible, especially those that may have been recently injured.
Also, I encourage you to ask questions and leave comments. Ask anything. If it's too personal, which I doubt it will be, leave a method for me to contact you privately, and I will do so.
Also also, there should be a space towards the bottom of this page that allows to you subscribe to this blog. Enter your email address and you will receive emails when I update. This will also provide another method of spreading the word.
Thursday, May 1, 2014
"If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God." James 1:5
On January 10, 2004 my dad and I flew out on a very small plane to Denver, Colorado. We rode by ambulance to Craig Hospital once we landed. I remember the man driving the ambulance, knowing I was going to Craig for rehab, saying "You're in the army now."
This is the reputation Craig has. And it is a fitting one.
Everyone leaves Craig feeling one of two ways. They either loved it or hated it. Their feelings were based on exactly one thing: whether they went there expecting to be fully healed and walk away, or if they went there to get better.
This may seem like an arbitrary difference, but I promise you that it is not. The fundamental difference is acceptance. Acceptance that your life has changed. Not for the worse, but definitely it is different.
I won't deny that I wasn't the happiest when I arrived there. That was probably due primarily to the fact that I was very sick. I lost somewhere in the neighborhood of 31 pounds in those ten days I was still in Tulsa. Due to the pain, medication, surgeries, and massive trauma my body had absorbed I had no appetite. I wouldn't eat. The result was that I went from somewhere around 150lbs to 119lbs. And at around 6 foot that made me scary skinny.
But the purpose of Craig, while doing the best they can to heal your injuries, is to make sure that when you leave their care you will be able to live independently.
Possibly my earliest memory after my accident is a very shaky recollection of telling my mom, "I didn't think it would be permanent." I was talking about my paralysis. I don't remember really understanding all that it would mean... but somehow in those ten days I had already accepted what had happened to me.
Let me make something clear. I did not give up. There have been many times over the last ten years that I have prayed fervently for complete healing. I want to help my wife by mowing the lawn, doing more of the house work, planting a garden, walking our dogs. I want to be able to do things that a grown man, a married man, wants to do for his family and household. But I can't do all those things. Fortunately, my wife is a wonderful, sweet, devoted woman who has never once made me feel sorry for myself for being unable to help her as much as I would like.
There are other things. I miss hiking. I'm an Eagle Scout and lover backpacking. I'm going to be sad when I can't play with our children someday when they exist by tossing them up high and catching them as all fathers do.
But despite knowing these things on a conscious and unconscious level very early in my accident I never dwelt on them. I had no time. I was very truly in a boot camp type scenario. From day one my doctor asked me "What are your goals?" The only one I remember specifically mentioning was that I didn't want to have a bag of pee hanging off of my leg all the time. I accomplished that goal... or at least Craig helped me understand that it was.
No I did not give up. I could and can still do many of my favorite things.
So Craig was the right place for me. I had the right attitude and the gumption, once healed and healthy enough, to get stronger again.
It was a rough three months, no doubt.
But I needed to be tempered.
-
Reference: The above image was copied from Craig Hospital's homepage.
Everyone leaves Craig feeling one of two ways. They either loved it or hated it. Their feelings were based on exactly one thing: whether they went there expecting to be fully healed and walk away, or if they went there to get better.
This may seem like an arbitrary difference, but I promise you that it is not. The fundamental difference is acceptance. Acceptance that your life has changed. Not for the worse, but definitely it is different.
I won't deny that I wasn't the happiest when I arrived there. That was probably due primarily to the fact that I was very sick. I lost somewhere in the neighborhood of 31 pounds in those ten days I was still in Tulsa. Due to the pain, medication, surgeries, and massive trauma my body had absorbed I had no appetite. I wouldn't eat. The result was that I went from somewhere around 150lbs to 119lbs. And at around 6 foot that made me scary skinny.
But the purpose of Craig, while doing the best they can to heal your injuries, is to make sure that when you leave their care you will be able to live independently.
Possibly my earliest memory after my accident is a very shaky recollection of telling my mom, "I didn't think it would be permanent." I was talking about my paralysis. I don't remember really understanding all that it would mean... but somehow in those ten days I had already accepted what had happened to me.
Let me make something clear. I did not give up. There have been many times over the last ten years that I have prayed fervently for complete healing. I want to help my wife by mowing the lawn, doing more of the house work, planting a garden, walking our dogs. I want to be able to do things that a grown man, a married man, wants to do for his family and household. But I can't do all those things. Fortunately, my wife is a wonderful, sweet, devoted woman who has never once made me feel sorry for myself for being unable to help her as much as I would like.
There are other things. I miss hiking. I'm an Eagle Scout and lover backpacking. I'm going to be sad when I can't play with our children someday when they exist by tossing them up high and catching them as all fathers do.
But despite knowing these things on a conscious and unconscious level very early in my accident I never dwelt on them. I had no time. I was very truly in a boot camp type scenario. From day one my doctor asked me "What are your goals?" The only one I remember specifically mentioning was that I didn't want to have a bag of pee hanging off of my leg all the time. I accomplished that goal... or at least Craig helped me understand that it was.
No I did not give up. I could and can still do many of my favorite things.
So Craig was the right place for me. I had the right attitude and the gumption, once healed and healthy enough, to get stronger again.
It was a rough three months, no doubt.
But I needed to be tempered.
-
Reference: The above image was copied from Craig Hospital's homepage.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
"For I know the plans I have for you." Jeremiah 29:11
I realize that in order to get people interested in reading something, it needs to be updated often, at least in the beginning. Once you have finished reading this post please share it however you can. Here's some of my back story:
On January 2, 2004 I picked up from her home my then girlfriend, Kirsten, to go see a movie. It was a Saturday afternoon around 1:00 p.m. and the weather was beautiful. I wasn't speeding. We were both wearing our seat belts.
The only thing I remember from that day are the beads that were hanging in the doorway to her room. I know that this memory is from that morning because they were a Christmas gift and I had not been to her home since she got them.
You see, severe injuries, trauma, and copious amounts of pain killers do things to the memory. I remember only those beads from that day. Not the accident. Not what caused it. Nothing.
She doesn't remember it either. And no one saw the actual event. The people who called 911 only saw my car as it was settling back onto it's wheels.
But, based on the damage and skid marks I know some things.
While approaching the on ramp to the highway I swerved and then over corrected. This caused my car to flip. As it flipped over we hit a sign on the side of the highway. These signs are supposed to breakaway so as not to cause even more damage. This one didn't. Because of the sign the roof over our heads collapsed in on us.
Our injuries were as follows: she had part of her ear torn off, the nerves in her right arm injured, and her right knee hurt. She has recovered from these injuries through intense physical therapy and several surgeries.
My skull cracked along my right eye socket (I almost lost that eye), my collarbone broke, so did two... maybe three (can't remember) ribs, also I broke three vertebrae in my spine. As I said in my first post T3-4 broke, but I also broke C2. That's in the neck. I also had a lot of cuts on my face, arms, and hands.
When my vertebrae broke the bits of bone collided with my spinal cord; bruising it. When my skull cracked, the fluid in my skull all rushed to the left, damaging that ear. I am hard of hearing in that ear because of it; though it's not bad enough to effect me unless I'm in a noisy area or trying to use that ear on the phone.
We were transported to Saint Francis hospital where we both received treatment. I suppose the x-rays of my neck didn't look too bad because they didn't stabilize my neck at all. I underwent surgery to implant titanium rods along my spine to protect my spinal cord and stabilize the vertebrae.
For the next eight days I underwent surgery and was monitored. During that time I was surrounded by my friends, family, and virtually everyone who knew our family and was within driving distance. Though my memories of those days are very scattered, I do remember fragments of dreams, people visiting me, and conversations I had with them. I am grateful to everyone who came out, not because they came to see but because they came for my family as well. I was being well cared for, my immediate family were the ones that really needed comfort.
During those eight days several of my friends and family did research on the best hospitals for spinal cord injury rehabilitation. The answer was pretty unanimous: Craig Hospital in Denver, CO. Luckily at this point they thought my injury was complete (That is, severed spinal cord, extremely small chance of recovery.) I say "luckily" because had they known my injury was incomplete then I would not have been admitted into Craig to participate in an experimental procedure to transplant nerves from the leg on to the damaged part of the spinal cord. It was only once I got there that we discovered my injury was not complete. But I had gotten in and they weren't going to turn me away.
You can see how the Lord protected and blessed me. It could have been terrible weather, thus making it less likely that someone would have stopped to help us. That sign could have given away, had it done so, we would have rolled down a hill and I'm sure incurred much worse injuries. They might have discovered how badly my neck was broken and for some reasons forbidden me from flying to Colorado so soon after my injury. Craig only accepts people whose injuries are less than two weeks old for their studies. I could have not gotten in to Craig... which, for all intents and purposes was the biggest saving grace of all.
Clearly, God had a plan.
On January 2, 2004 I picked up from her home my then girlfriend, Kirsten, to go see a movie. It was a Saturday afternoon around 1:00 p.m. and the weather was beautiful. I wasn't speeding. We were both wearing our seat belts.
The only thing I remember from that day are the beads that were hanging in the doorway to her room. I know that this memory is from that morning because they were a Christmas gift and I had not been to her home since she got them.
You see, severe injuries, trauma, and copious amounts of pain killers do things to the memory. I remember only those beads from that day. Not the accident. Not what caused it. Nothing.
She doesn't remember it either. And no one saw the actual event. The people who called 911 only saw my car as it was settling back onto it's wheels.
But, based on the damage and skid marks I know some things.
While approaching the on ramp to the highway I swerved and then over corrected. This caused my car to flip. As it flipped over we hit a sign on the side of the highway. These signs are supposed to breakaway so as not to cause even more damage. This one didn't. Because of the sign the roof over our heads collapsed in on us.
Our injuries were as follows: she had part of her ear torn off, the nerves in her right arm injured, and her right knee hurt. She has recovered from these injuries through intense physical therapy and several surgeries.
My skull cracked along my right eye socket (I almost lost that eye), my collarbone broke, so did two... maybe three (can't remember) ribs, also I broke three vertebrae in my spine. As I said in my first post T3-4 broke, but I also broke C2. That's in the neck. I also had a lot of cuts on my face, arms, and hands.
When my vertebrae broke the bits of bone collided with my spinal cord; bruising it. When my skull cracked, the fluid in my skull all rushed to the left, damaging that ear. I am hard of hearing in that ear because of it; though it's not bad enough to effect me unless I'm in a noisy area or trying to use that ear on the phone.
We were transported to Saint Francis hospital where we both received treatment. I suppose the x-rays of my neck didn't look too bad because they didn't stabilize my neck at all. I underwent surgery to implant titanium rods along my spine to protect my spinal cord and stabilize the vertebrae.
For the next eight days I underwent surgery and was monitored. During that time I was surrounded by my friends, family, and virtually everyone who knew our family and was within driving distance. Though my memories of those days are very scattered, I do remember fragments of dreams, people visiting me, and conversations I had with them. I am grateful to everyone who came out, not because they came to see but because they came for my family as well. I was being well cared for, my immediate family were the ones that really needed comfort.
During those eight days several of my friends and family did research on the best hospitals for spinal cord injury rehabilitation. The answer was pretty unanimous: Craig Hospital in Denver, CO. Luckily at this point they thought my injury was complete (That is, severed spinal cord, extremely small chance of recovery.) I say "luckily" because had they known my injury was incomplete then I would not have been admitted into Craig to participate in an experimental procedure to transplant nerves from the leg on to the damaged part of the spinal cord. It was only once I got there that we discovered my injury was not complete. But I had gotten in and they weren't going to turn me away.
You can see how the Lord protected and blessed me. It could have been terrible weather, thus making it less likely that someone would have stopped to help us. That sign could have given away, had it done so, we would have rolled down a hill and I'm sure incurred much worse injuries. They might have discovered how badly my neck was broken and for some reasons forbidden me from flying to Colorado so soon after my injury. Craig only accepts people whose injuries are less than two weeks old for their studies. I could have not gotten in to Craig... which, for all intents and purposes was the biggest saving grace of all.
Clearly, God had a plan.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
"But you, Lord, are a shield around me" Psalm 3:3
This first, initial post, serves several purposes. Firstly, to let anyone and everyone who is interested in reading it know that it exists. Second, to explain my reasons for writing it.
I am a paraplegic. My spinal cord is damaged at the T3 and T4 levels.
What does that mean? It means that I cannot use any muscles from my chest down. Yes, any. Toes, feet, legs, abs, etc.
The accident that caused my injury happened on January 2, 2004.
Since then I have experienced the full breadth of reactions. From childlike wonder to prideful arrogance. I will tell my story from the beginning, as well as I remember it, and then continue to relate my thoughts, concerns, and wishes about my situation.
Now there comes the matter of you who are reading this. I have two favors to ask of you. The first is that I would like you to tell others about it. The main purpose of this blog is to educate people about what it is like to live with a physical disability. The only way that situations can get better is by educating people about it. So please, share this with anyone and everyone you know.
The second favor I would like to ask of you is to hold me accountable to maintaining this blog. I tend to forget to do things and this is something I feel that God has led me to do. Please help me to continue it.
That's all for now.
God speed my friends!
References:
The image was borrowed from http://inspiredsciforum.com/thread/939/thoracic-herniated-disc.
I am a paraplegic. My spinal cord is damaged at the T3 and T4 levels.
What does that mean? It means that I cannot use any muscles from my chest down. Yes, any. Toes, feet, legs, abs, etc.
The accident that caused my injury happened on January 2, 2004.
Since then I have experienced the full breadth of reactions. From childlike wonder to prideful arrogance. I will tell my story from the beginning, as well as I remember it, and then continue to relate my thoughts, concerns, and wishes about my situation.
Now there comes the matter of you who are reading this. I have two favors to ask of you. The first is that I would like you to tell others about it. The main purpose of this blog is to educate people about what it is like to live with a physical disability. The only way that situations can get better is by educating people about it. So please, share this with anyone and everyone you know.
The second favor I would like to ask of you is to hold me accountable to maintaining this blog. I tend to forget to do things and this is something I feel that God has led me to do. Please help me to continue it.
That's all for now.
God speed my friends!
References:
The image was borrowed from http://inspiredsciforum.com/thread/939/thoracic-herniated-disc.
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