accident

Humorous Sorrows

I deal with the blues by using humor. I don’t know how but it makes me feel a little better, but also can have the unintended consequence of hiding my true sorrow.

I was in an accident recently that was pretty bad, and ended up missing almost 3.5 months of work. Here is an email update I sent to my boss (the principal). He took it as an indication that my spirits were doing well. It guess it masked the serious depressed sentiments I had at the time. I sent this email exactly one month after the accident.

re: News from the doctors…

Thursday, November 07, 2013 12:39 PM

From: Science Teacher [SV]

To: Mr Principal [SV]‎; Mrs Office Manager [SV]
Cc: Mrs Vice Principal [SV]‎; Miss Union Rep [SV]

Greetings,

I got some good news and some bad news today. First the good news. My ankle looks great, and the surgery went perfectly. I got a plate and four screws installed, and I think my ankle will now be both bulletproof and bionic. It may also help improve my cell phone reception and be usable as a wifi hotspot, and the hardware does come with a one year warranty. I also got my stinky old splint off and got a shiny new boot. Even after only 12 days the stench on that plaster splint was debilitating and probably neurotoxic. So yeah for the shiny new boot!

Now for the bad news, which unfortunately is more plentiful. I’ll number the items so you can keep track.

Even though I am in a boot I can only put partial weight on my foot, so will still need crutches until the big screw gets removed. Putting too much weight on my foot may result in the screw breaking, which I’m told would be very bad. In case you didn’t know, breaking things in your ankle is bad, even if they are things that aren’t really supposed to be there in the first place.
The necrosis on the front of my shin has finally revealed a large open wound in the center where the impact occurred. The wound is so large they recommend a skin graft operation, which will happen as soon as the wound heals a bit more underneath. In the meantime the doctors had to debride the dead flesh, which looked like an impromptu scene from the Walking Dead. What is left is a great big window through my flesh straight down to the bone. Luckily the extensive nerve damage in the area means I could not feel any pain during the procedure, and feel no pain now. Who ever thought nerve damage could be lucky? Perhaps this should have been included in the good news above.
They finally took a much closer look at my knee. There is an MRI scheduled for Monday to confirm for sure, but the initial diagnosis today was that I most likely completely tore my ACL, MCL, and possibly the PCL, but the LCL is strong like bull (3 out of 4 ain’t bad). My knee is extremely unstable and I am recommended not to put any weight on my leg at all to protect the knee, even though I am supposed to put partial weight on my foot to help heal the ankle bones. The burly medical knee brace that is supposed to help protect my knee from twisting and popping wildly out of joint can’t be worn with a boot, and my eventual skin graft will probably also inhibit my ability to wear the knee brace properly. I am thinking of designing a hybrid walking boot knee brace to help fulfill all my doctor’s wishes and improve my locomotive potential.
I was referred to a plastic surgeon about the skin graft. The area is so messed up and swollen she told me it may be a month or more before I would be able to undergo the procedure. She told me I should keep my leg elevated above my heart at least 22 hours a day. I’ve decided the easiest way to do this is to learn to walk on my hands like an ambidextrous acrobat from Cirque du Soleil. Unfortunately my initial attempts have not proven successful. I fear the percoset may be inhibiting my powers of proprioception, but luckily also makes the prospect of falling on my head less inhibiting.
I have basically been given three completely contradictory courses of treatment from my doctors. Foot doctor: start putting partial weight on your ankle to stimulate healing, but don’t break the screw. Knee doctor: don’t put any weight on your knee without wearing the knee brace that you can’t actually wear. Plastic surgeon: keep your shin above your head at all times except when using the toilet or trying to take a one footed shower with a plastic bag over your leg. Luckily percoset not only helps with pain, but also helps one deal with paralyzing bouts of irony.
Each of my doctors has told me that completely removing my leg and installing a fully bionic model is not an option.

Okay, so what’s next? I’m not sure honestly. All I know right now is that unless I can perfect my hand walking technique, my date of return is still up in the air. I was really hoping that I could return by November the 18th but that’s looking less and less likely, as I will possibly be needing additional (up to four) surgeries. My numerous doctor’s notes excuse me from physical activity until 2014!

It is getting harder and harder for me to keep up with the planning and grading of my different classes. At what point does hiring a long term sub become an option?

I really really really really really really wish I had more good news to share. Unfortunately this is what I got. Let me know what the options are moving forward.

Cordially, Jefe

the shiny new boot

Reposted for the DP Daily Prompt: Singing the Blues

News from the Doctor

I was in an accident recently that was pretty bad, and ended up missing almost 3.5 months of work. Here is an email update I sent to my boss (the principal). He took it as an indication that my spirits were doing well. Actually the humor was my attempt at making a horrible and depressing outlook somehow less bleak. It pretty well masked the serious depressed sentiments I had at the time. I sent this email exactly one month after the accident.

re: News from the doctors…

Thursday, November 07, 2013 12:39 PM

From: Science Teacher [SV]

To: Mr Principal [SV]‎; Mrs Office Manager [SV]
Cc: Mrs Vice Principal [SV]‎; Miss Union Rep [SV]

Greetings,

Now for the bad news, which unfortunately is more plentiful. I’ll number the items so you can keep track.

Even though I am in a boot I can only put partial weight on my foot, so will still need crutches until the big screw gets removed. Putting too much weight on my foot may result in the screw breaking, which I’m told would be very bad. In case you didn’t know, breaking things in your ankle is bad, even if they are things that aren’t really supposed to be there in the first place.
The necrosis on the front of my shin has finally revealed a large open wound in the center where the impact occurred. The wound is so large they recommend a skin graft operation, which will happen as soon as the wound heals a bit more underneath. In the meantime the doctors had to debride the dead flesh, which looked like an impromptu scene from the Walking Dead. What is left is a great big window through my flesh straight down to the bone. Luckily the extensive nerve damage in the area means I could not feel any pain during the procedure, and feel no pain now. Who ever thought nerve damage could be lucky? Perhaps this should have been included in the good news above.
They finally took a much closer look at my knee. There is an MRI scheduled for Monday to confirm for sure, but the initial diagnosis today was that I most likely completely tore my ACL, MCL, and possibly the PCL, but the LCL is strong like bull (3 out of 4 ain’t bad). My knee is extremely unstable and I am recommended not to put any weight on my leg at all to protect the knee, even though I am supposed to put partial weight on my foot to help heal the ankle bones. The burly medical knee brace that is supposed to help protect my knee from twisting and popping wildly out of joint can’t be worn with a boot, and my eventual skin graft will probably also inhibit my ability to wear the knee brace properly. I am thinking of designing a hybrid walking boot knee brace to help fulfill all my doctor’s wishes and improve my locomotive potential.
I was referred to a plastic surgeon about the skin graft. The area is so messed up and swollen she told me it may be a month or more before I would be able to undergo the procedure. She told me I should keep my leg elevated above my heart at least 22 hours a day. I’ve decided the easiest way to do this is to learn to walk on my hands like an ambidextrous acrobat from Cirque du Soleil. Unfortunately my initial attempts have not proven successful. I fear the percoset may be inhibiting my powers of proprioception, but luckily also makes the prospect of falling on my head less inhibiting.
I have basically been given three completely contradictory courses of treatment from my doctors. Foot doctor: start putting partial weight on your ankle to stimulate healing, but don’t break the screw. Knee doctor: don’t put any weight on your knee without wearing the knee brace that you can’t actually wear. Plastic surgeon: keep your shin above your head at all times except when using the toilet or trying to take a one footed shower with a plastic bag over your leg. Luckily percoset not only helps with pain, but also helps one deal with paralyzing bouts of irony.
Each of my doctors has told me that completely removing my leg and installing a fully bionic model is not an option.

It is getting harder and harder for me to keep up with the planning and grading of my different classes. At what point does hiring a long term sub become an option?

I really really really really really really wish I had more good news to share. Unfortunately this is what I got. Let me know what the options are moving forward.

Cordially, Jefe

the shiny new boot

Lucky

“I think we should just start calling you Lucky,” officer Wolcott had said. The nurse and other assistants all nodded like it was a great idea. Everyone except Lucky thought it was so clever. No one has ever been so lucky to have been attached to a hospital bed with handcuffs and a catheter.

The doctors and nurses, the policemen, all the other nameless faces blurred together in the antiseptic white of his hospital room, everybody kept telling him how lucky he was. He was lucky he had been thrown clear from whichever vehicle he had been in. He was lucky he hadn’t injured his spine or suffered any noticeable cerebral trauma. He was lucky that the impact that had severed his leg had been so forceful and efficient, and lucky that they had found his leg miraculously sitting in a patch of snow fifty feet away, having flown across a vast distance and landing as if placed there carefully by an angel. He was lucky the best orthopedic surgeon in the Tri-Peaks area was on call when he had arrived at the hospital, and luckier still that the surgeon had performed similar limb reattachments in the past. He had been the only survivor in a horrific accident. How lucky was that? Everybody described to him how horrific the accident had been, since he couldn’t remember it himself. The story involved icy mountain roads, a police chase, some sort of glacier, and a goat stampede. All the cars and drivers in the story perished, presumably driving themselves off frozen cliffs of bottomless proportions. All except for him.

Since he couldn’t remember his actual name nobody knew what to call him. Honey, Champ, Dude, John Doe, Hey You. Everyone seemed to come up with their own unique moniker. But when officer Wolcott came up with the idea to call him Lucky it stuck like overcooked pasta on the wall. The handcuffs were temporarily removed when they did a catheter change. With a catheter in his bladder the handcuffs felt redundant, like more of a mental reminder of the bad juju involved, in case a catheter wasn’t reminder enough. There must have been some sort of bad juju involved, but nobody would tell him why the handcuffs were even necessary in the first place.

Every conversation started with an acknowledgment of how lucky he was just to be alive. He was luckiest person in the ICU. The more people said it to him, the decidedly less lucky he felt.

Feeling lucky, it seemed, depended on your frame of reference.

Walking

Does anyone ever stop to think about walking? The people who don’t know how to walk need to think about it. Toddlers, people in rehabilitation, the physically challenged, these are the people that need to think about walking, really concentrate on putting the necessary physical motions into the proper sequence. Once a person learns how to walk do they ever really concentrate on walking again, or pause to consider the significance of the act? People who can’t use their legs need wheelchairs and electric carts. Provided they can use their hands, they wriggle around on the ground like seals, without their legs reduced to a posture that is arguably less than human. Standing erect and walking are huge parts of the human experience, and bipedal locomotion itself is a defining feature of our species.

Walking is a given for most people, and perhaps even an annoyance for some. Some would rather wait half an hour for front row parking than park immediately and walk five minutes. Some insist on driving to the end of their driveways to get the mail. Some speak of walking any distance greater than half a mile with the same genuine disinterest they reserve for such demeaning physical labor as ditch digging or cleaning toilets.

Not everybody has such a negative opinion of walking. I personally know hundreds of people who exalt in the act of walking or some other form of bipedal locomotion. I, for one, enjoy walking and running and other such physical acts, but I never truly appreciated their significance until recently. It’s cruel, I think, that the significance of anything so important, so integral to being a human being, should stay so unconsidered that it can’t truly be appreciated until it is gone. I will never make that mistake again.