Legendary & Seductive Chalmers Street.

Tuesday my therapist and I evaluated my progress.  I have recovered roughly forty-two percent of the physical ability I had prior to being hit.  Of course I thought I was doing way better than that until I realized that I had answered all the questions according to how my body felt and responded….given that a full recovery can take eight to twelve weeks, I am doing pretty well, getting around on a cane, returned to work part-time. I just wanted to be top of my class!

I cannot walk a mile yet without difficulty.  I can almost make a mile on the treadmill but that is not the same as our bumpy sidewalk.  I cannot kneel or squat down without considerable pain.  I also lose my balance when I squat down too far.  I cannot run on even ground or uneven ground.

But I am able to prepare our meals, go for walks around the block and generally enjoy life more that I could even just a couple of weeks ago.  So, here I am back from another therapy session, hopeful as ever.

I keep a daily journal more or less and rereading it I find good and bad experiences, if not in equal measure, close to it.  I met some wonderful people and some not so wonderful people.  This nursing home was probably not that different from any other nursing home.  Maybe I will write some stories out of some of my experiences, some are good stories, but anyone who has been in a nursing home or has had a loved one in a nursing home can tell stories and some of them will be much like mine.

I cannot say enough about physical therapy’s benefits.  The therapists who worked with me helped keep me saner than I would have been otherwise and kept my spirit from sinking too far down.  A long chat with the chaplain was also helpful to me.

Early in July, beginning my second month  in the nursing home a dear friend died.  She had been in a medically induced coma while her doctors tried to diagnosis what was going on with her and when, what they feared most was confirmed, she was allowed to die.  My brother and his wife attended her funeral in West Virginia.  I still find it hard to believe that she is gone.  Her death and our inability to see her before she died is one of the painful regrets of my confinement.

Many friends visited me.  One friend from work brought me some vegan treats which were wonderful and another friend brought me vegetarian meals about once a week or so.  I am still amazed that the home couldn’t figure out what to feed me.  Given budget issues I would think beans and rice would be at the top of their lists of proteins, but not so.

My boss brought me a loner computer  with access to the internet.  Hurray.   Since I am rambling here, I will stop for now.

The EMT’s who moved me were very skilled and did so with a minimum of fuss and additional trauma.  When we got to the SNF, they took me to my room and transferred me to the bed, wishing me well.  The EMT who rode in back with me carefully documented everything, indicating that he did so because he wanted my lawyer to have all the info he needed to get what I should from the guy who hit me.

The bed I was assigned had no brakes.  So it rolled about every time someone touched it, freaking me out.  There was no cable TV, but an older TV with a converter box which got about a dozen channels some of the time, no WiFi and my cell phone had to go on roaming charges to connect to the outside world.

I did have a nice window and an empty bird feeder just outside.  Admissions came and discussed food with me….the whole prefer vegetarian thing deserves its own post….I was still too shocky to care about food or much of anything at that point.  I also had no clue that I would be in the facility for forty days.

My non-weight bearing bi-lateral fractures were difficult for the staff who repeatedly asked me to let them help me up on my “good leg.”  Every time a new staff member came to my room, I had to convince them that there was no better leg…the breaks are identical and I could neither bend either, nor put any weight on either.  Pulling the covers back and showing my immobilizers was my best move.  Metal bars on each side of each leg wrapped in fabric helped them understand that I was not going anywhere and that I could not even bend my knees.

The Occupational and Physical therapists became my life line when Frank and a wonderful friend who brought me food from her table couldn’t be with me.  N is a strict vegetarian and understands the complications of getting protein and also delicious food in any facility, and especially this one.  She lives nearby so she could walk over, sometimes just to chat.  She also respected the therapy schedule.

After a couple of days I got a bed with brakes, but the first replacement didn’t adjust so then I got third bed that did.  Each time I was moved it took a team of three to prevent my legs from being further damaged.  The therapy team came up with a method of moving me that was slick, but between my anxiety and some of the staffs’ anxiety, the first few moves took almost thirty minutes.  Therapy made it worthwhile though because they had the only good coffee in the building, a reward for getting to their room.

My family sent me goodie baskets and called every couple of days  My daughter’s friend who had just had a baby also called from Atlanta to commiserate our mutual confinement.  Frank visited a couple of times a day, staying for as long as he was able.  N came with food and stayed, checking to ensure that she wasn’t wearing me out.  Our next-door neighbors came with dinner from a favorite Indian restaurant and they brought me all kinds of goodies.

I am a big reader so I wasn’t too worried about the TV but between the percocet which I discovered I didn’t really need and declined in favor of Tylenol and the shock, I couldn’t concentrate well enough to read even the wonderful Donna Leon mysteries Frank brought me from the library.  Lucky for me I was able to get some PBS channels and watched Deutsche Welle news and programming.  The TV seemed to have it in for me, cutting off during mystery programs, leaving me hanging….that is when I could concentrate enough and stay awake.

It was hard work to just sit up since my knees were fixed in position and my balance was precarious.  PT helped me work on my awkward balance and when I got new braces that allowed me to bend my knees they helped restore range of motion.

One of the staff gave me her phone to call whomever I needed.  My first call was to Frank to let him know where I was.  I knew that he was in a meeting so I didn’t expect him to answer, but I left him as detailed a message as I could.  Then I called my office and left a message for my boss and then talked to our director who agreed to give a follow-up call to Frank.  Frank came to the ER and spent some time with me.  The staff let him know what was going on medically.  He was stressed and fearful while I was in shock and not in all that much pain as long as no one moved me.

In the course of my time in the Trauma ER, I heard about at least two other people who came in that day because they had been hit by a car.  One man had been hit while riding his bicycle.  He had a broken pelvis.  And another pedestrian, I didn’t catch what his injuries were.

As the two other human versus auto accident victims were sent up to rooms and I was still lying in my spot, other trauma patients rolled in.  Several patients parked near me arrived with police escorts and not the friendly, “we’ll make sure you are okay” kind of police escort, but the “make sure this person doesn’t get away” kind of escort.

A man near my gurney was drunk and disorderly.  He yelled obscenities for a while, then started pleading with the medical staff for various things, then began to threaten the medical staff.  After several hours, I assume he sobered up and then started apologizing for his behavior.  Since I was immobilized I tried to come up with an escape plan if he should try to attack me, but twisting around on the gurney I was able to see that he was handcuffed to his bed. Gotta love those bright orange plastic cuffs; I was moderately reassured.

Around two in the morning, the medical staff decided the best course for me was to wait to see if I could heal on my own without surgery, so I was sent up to a bed on the floor.  I also got to have a little water to drink and an oral pain med. I was offered something to eat…still in shock, I wasn’t hungry and couldn’t even make myself want to eat.

The night nurse and her aide were friendly and helpful.  I think they had to tell me several times what had happened and what the treatment would be, but always gracefully and kindly.  They repeatedly expressed outrage at the driver and assured me that if I needed them to do so they would contact Frank for me.  I fell asleep.

My room-mate had undergone surgery for her broken ankle sometime ago and was returning for a follow-up surgery to clear out an infection.  I was relieved that at least for now, I might not have to have pins and things, but I had  no idea what avoiding surgery would mean for me and my recovery.

The driver of the car claims he never saw me, but that is because his focus was elsewhere. At best it is because he was focussed on making a right turn on a red light and was more concerned about on-coming traffic, at worst he was on his cell phone and oblivious to a human being in front of his car…only he knows and he probably doesn’t remember anyway. The driver of the car behind him was well aware of me in the cross walk and  has been helpful and kind.

I was fortunate in that my Doctor was willing to watch and wait before considering surgery. To avoid surgery I had a lot of work to do.  I had to go without bending my knees until my doctor gave me the all clear and then I could put no weight on either leg until the bones had mended enough to support me. and I would not crush the new bone forming at the fracture.   I spent several weeks in a Skilled Care Facility where some wonderful Occupational Therapists and Physical Therapists helped me adapt to a life with my legs sticking out straight in front of me and then, once I could bend my knees, without use of my legs.  Just as important these folks helped me keep my sanity and my spirit alive.

Now I am working with a wonderful Physical Therapist who is helping me reclaim use of my muscles.  More from my journal later.