May 28, 2006
After a few days of preparation; including 3 hours on the x-ray table and various other types of testings and imaging, I rolled off to the surgery ward. Fortunately, my bestest mom-in-law was able to come up and stay with my husband, and visit with me.
I don't remember the first surgery at all, don't even remember waiting in prep, starting anesthesia; don't remember a thing. This surgery I remember. I was a 'fit in on the schedule', and since it was expected to be a long surgery, it was questionable what time my surgery would be. As such things would be, about the time I rolled into the prep area, my pain medication was wearing off. My biggest worry was getting my pain meds.
Here I lay on my bed, looking up into the faces ringed around me. Thinking to myself, this is the crew who will help me walk again some day. Huge conversation about where to put the surgical IV line. I had a PICC in my left arm, but this one person wanted an additional large bore line to get fluids in me in a hurry. I had already had one blood transfusion, and knew that I would also be getting blood for this surgery. So this discussion didn't bother me, what I found endearing was that the team worried about putting the line in my neck and leaving yet another scar; but there was literally no other place on my body available for the IV line.
About this time, I piped up and said something to the effect "take a look at me, what the heck do I care about whether I have one more scar? What I care about is keeping my leg and walking again; go right ahead and stick the IV in my neck; it will help you take good care of me!"
That's about the last thing I remember before waking up in recovery. When I woke up in recovery, both my husband and my mom-in-law were with me. I wanted to know two things, what time was it (which nurses shift) and what happened in surgery.
In my short time in hospitals, I had learned that the night shift is h*ll on poor pitiful patients who can't do a single thing for themselves; as well as happen to be in severe pain that quickly escalates to the most awful maddening monster as the pain meds wear off. I most adamantly did not want to be left alone with that "evil night shift". Between the concussion mental confusion and the pain meds, at the time I truly considered night shift an evil time.
Dr. Cole and his PA's had warned me and my family several times, that they didn't know how much or what all they would get done on me. They had a limit to time they could keep me under, and I had just too much broken. So, my other recovery question was what did they do? Did they get it all done, or would I be going back to surgery again in a brief time?
The next morning the PA sunders in carrying some papers and asks if I want to see my x-rays! Well of course; leaving the most complicated for last, I see that my left hand has a temporary pin in my hand; my right hand has two temporary pins in my finger, my right collarbone can't be plated. The PA is showing my an 8 x 10 copy of my right leg x-ray, that first glimpse inspired the "bionic leg" euphemism.
Using some medical jargon, my right leg fractures were set by ORIF - Open Reduction Internal Fixation. This means I had surgery, and the "fixing" or holding of the broken bone is by means of something internal, or inside me. External fixation would be a cast, traction, or the Hoffman External Fixator I started with.
Here is a chart illustrating ORIF with an IM - Intramedullary - Nail. I have an IM nail in my femur, from my hip to my knee; with another IM nail in my tibia between my knee and ankle. Both the tibia and fibula are displaced fractures. Also called a tib/fib fracture. The tibia is the load bearing, big bone in the lower leg. As I understand it, the fibula bears little load, and will heal without requiring internal stuff.
Additionally, I have a plate that runs from my knee up the outside of my femur. The plate is screwed in many places. You can see an example plate chart here. The femur was shattered so badly, it needed both the IM nail and the plate.
I'm pleased to see that I don't have an external fixator on my knee, as I had been warned by Dr. Cole that the x-rays of my knee looked pretty bad and he expected that I might end up with one; but I'm wondering of course what's going on with my knee. Looking at the copy of the x-ray, my knee just looks like solid metal. I can see that I have a lot of incisions and staples around a very swollen knee.
About this time, Dr. Cole comes in looking very pleased with himself. Since we were discussing my knee, he enthusiastically starts telling us how happy he was to find more to work with in my knee than he expected. The patella was intact, and he was able to reattach various ligaments, tendons and things to live bone. The knee should eventually gain enough function while allowing the femur to heal; but will be riddled with bad arthritis in a few years requiring a knee replacement.
Dr. Cole goes on to tell me to keep a very close eye on one particular incision site, as they had found infection where one of the external fixator rods went through my leg; and had removed between one to two inches of dead and infected bone. He tells me that luckily the surgeons in Lakeland had put antibiotic beads in my leg, as well as I had been on IV antibiotics before surgery with Dr. Cole.
I don't understand the ramifications of many of the things Dr. Cole told me that first morning after surgery; in fact I had forgotten completely about the internal plate. I'm happy that Dr. Cole seems pleased and happy that I'm alive and likely to be walking again. Dr. Cole tells me I will need more surgery, but should be walking in a year or so. Ward and I are pleased.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Friday, May 26, 2006
Traumatologist
Traumatologist (trau·ma·tol·o·gist) (traw”m?-tol´?-jist)
n. miracle worker, orthopedic traumatology specialist
a. Dr. J Dean Cole; Florida Hospital Fracture Care Center
Never heard of a traumatologist before? Neither had we. Orthopedic traumatology is a new subspecialty of orthodpedic surgery. Stated very simply; its a specialty dealing with the multiple injuries of a trauma patient. Knowing when and what to do. Having the skill to do it, with the knowledge of how to be minimally invasive yet get the patient restored as quickly as possible.
As far as we are concerned Dr. Cole is a miracle worker. He not only saved my right leg, but has me up and around much quicker than we all anticipated.
The trauma surgeon at Lakeland, as well as several friends, recommended transferring me to Dr. Cole to work on my right leg. Seems this was a particularly busy time for trauma, and I stayed in Lakeland waiting for an available bed in Dr. Cole's surgical unit. The call came late one night, and off I buzzed in the back of an ambulance.
After a rocky admissions process (it would have been much better to have someone with me during the transfer), life in settled down on Dr. Cole's unit starting off with the most heavenly sponge bath! My first since the accident.
n. miracle worker, orthopedic traumatology specialist
a. Dr. J Dean Cole; Florida Hospital Fracture Care Center
Never heard of a traumatologist before? Neither had we. Orthopedic traumatology is a new subspecialty of orthodpedic surgery. Stated very simply; its a specialty dealing with the multiple injuries of a trauma patient. Knowing when and what to do. Having the skill to do it, with the knowledge of how to be minimally invasive yet get the patient restored as quickly as possible.
As far as we are concerned Dr. Cole is a miracle worker. He not only saved my right leg, but has me up and around much quicker than we all anticipated.
The trauma surgeon at Lakeland, as well as several friends, recommended transferring me to Dr. Cole to work on my right leg. Seems this was a particularly busy time for trauma, and I stayed in Lakeland waiting for an available bed in Dr. Cole's surgical unit. The call came late one night, and off I buzzed in the back of an ambulance.
After a rocky admissions process (it would have been much better to have someone with me during the transfer), life in settled down on Dr. Cole's unit starting off with the most heavenly sponge bath! My first since the accident.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
The World Turned Upside Down
May 20, 2006It was to be Rosie's first run in a flyball tourney. We rode over early in the morning, to be home the night before on my birthday; as well as we both prefer to spend the night home with our hubbies when possible. Rosie and I traveled with Terry and Tchaika; as the Volvo had recently stranded us and Ward didn't trust it. We were almost to the exit off I-4 when I glanced around and spied the dastardly white sports car where it most definitely did not belong. And worse, most definitely headed for us.
Our introduction to median cross overs. High speed interstate motor vehicle collision [mvc]. Rollover. An auto accident of the worst imaginable. The stuff nightmares are made of. The collision closed the interstate, made the local news. The police reports are finally complete, including 91 photos. I'm not allowed to look at them, but have asked someone to pick out one for me to put on this blog.
When we stopped, we were upside down, don't know how many times we rolled. Terry and I are both short, we were hanging head down from our seat belts; both of us screaming we wanted OUT. Fortunately for us, as our team mates were behind us; and they were rapidly on the scene helping, though they would not let us out of our seatbelts. Taking care of our dogs; I was very worried about Ms Rosie. I'm told I hollered more about Rosie than me.
Concentrating on Rosie instead of me was probably just as well. I spent 40 days in the hospital; had two very long major surgeries before coming home to the family room converted to recovery room.
Rosie is fine; our friends Terry and Tchaika are well. I'm recovering and learning about life as mobility impaired. Cannon is learning to be my assistance dog. Rosie is helping to teach him.
I'm finally developing an interest in what's going on with me, and what happened. This is what the (now) bionic leg looked like before the first surgery: The broken right leg is the worse injury, the femur is busted into many crispy critters, the knee busted, and the tib/fib is fractured. Also broke right hand, right collarbone and left hand. Then for good measure throw in soft tissue ligament and tendon damage to the left knee, right ankle and left wrist. Mustn't forget the split open head and concussion.
We were transported to Lakeland Regional Hospital where the trauma unit took over with a long surgery. I woke up some time later to look down and see both legs and both arms bundled up. I had an external fixator on my right leg, from hip to ankle. Now I wish I had a picture of my external fixator, it looked much like an instrument of medieval torture encasing my leg. You can see an example here. Young nurses would come in, take one glance and turn green. The external fixator is a metal cage type device with metal pins going from the top of the cage, through your bone to the bottom of the cage. It fixes your bone is place, while leaving open the skin area for treatment to hopefully avoid infection.
My left leg was also bundled up; it was attached to some machine that constantly pressurised and released. I quickly named it the wave machine; it's purpose was to break up the blood clots that had the left knee swollen. I had finger tip to elbow casts on each hand, a PICC line for IVs in my left upper arm, and a broken right collarbone that was left to it's own devices to heal. I had 50 staples in the back of my head, and an unknown number of staples and stiches in my legs. Morphine and I did not get along. I'm told I was black and blue from tip to top. Fortunately, I have very few memories of this time.
I was in the trauma unit of a hospital two hours from home. Terry was in the same unit and hospital, yet they would not let us share a room. Some HIPAA excuse, though we both wanted to be together. Ward (husband), friends and family scrambling. One of our flyball team mates took both of our dogs to their vet. The dogs story will be in another post. There was much concern about the state of my right leg, many people started working on getting me transferred closer to home, and to someone who could try to save my leg.
Friends, acquaintances, and e-group members around the world sent cards and best wishes. Ward would bring the stack of cards to the hospital and open them up for me. It was so very wonderful hearing the best wishes, and seeing the cards. Best of all were the cards and photos from Robby and Norfolk; two foster Belgian Shepherds that had stayed with us for awhile.
Our introduction to median cross overs. High speed interstate motor vehicle collision [mvc]. Rollover. An auto accident of the worst imaginable. The stuff nightmares are made of. The collision closed the interstate, made the local news. The police reports are finally complete, including 91 photos. I'm not allowed to look at them, but have asked someone to pick out one for me to put on this blog.
When we stopped, we were upside down, don't know how many times we rolled. Terry and I are both short, we were hanging head down from our seat belts; both of us screaming we wanted OUT. Fortunately for us, as our team mates were behind us; and they were rapidly on the scene helping, though they would not let us out of our seatbelts. Taking care of our dogs; I was very worried about Ms Rosie. I'm told I hollered more about Rosie than me.
Concentrating on Rosie instead of me was probably just as well. I spent 40 days in the hospital; had two very long major surgeries before coming home to the family room converted to recovery room.
Rosie is fine; our friends Terry and Tchaika are well. I'm recovering and learning about life as mobility impaired. Cannon is learning to be my assistance dog. Rosie is helping to teach him.
I'm finally developing an interest in what's going on with me, and what happened. This is what the (now) bionic leg looked like before the first surgery: The broken right leg is the worse injury, the femur is busted into many crispy critters, the knee busted, and the tib/fib is fractured. Also broke right hand, right collarbone and left hand. Then for good measure throw in soft tissue ligament and tendon damage to the left knee, right ankle and left wrist. Mustn't forget the split open head and concussion.
We were transported to Lakeland Regional Hospital where the trauma unit took over with a long surgery. I woke up some time later to look down and see both legs and both arms bundled up. I had an external fixator on my right leg, from hip to ankle. Now I wish I had a picture of my external fixator, it looked much like an instrument of medieval torture encasing my leg. You can see an example here. Young nurses would come in, take one glance and turn green. The external fixator is a metal cage type device with metal pins going from the top of the cage, through your bone to the bottom of the cage. It fixes your bone is place, while leaving open the skin area for treatment to hopefully avoid infection.
My left leg was also bundled up; it was attached to some machine that constantly pressurised and released. I quickly named it the wave machine; it's purpose was to break up the blood clots that had the left knee swollen. I had finger tip to elbow casts on each hand, a PICC line for IVs in my left upper arm, and a broken right collarbone that was left to it's own devices to heal. I had 50 staples in the back of my head, and an unknown number of staples and stiches in my legs. Morphine and I did not get along. I'm told I was black and blue from tip to top. Fortunately, I have very few memories of this time.
I was in the trauma unit of a hospital two hours from home. Terry was in the same unit and hospital, yet they would not let us share a room. Some HIPAA excuse, though we both wanted to be together. Ward (husband), friends and family scrambling. One of our flyball team mates took both of our dogs to their vet. The dogs story will be in another post. There was much concern about the state of my right leg, many people started working on getting me transferred closer to home, and to someone who could try to save my leg.
Friends, acquaintances, and e-group members around the world sent cards and best wishes. Ward would bring the stack of cards to the hospital and open them up for me. It was so very wonderful hearing the best wishes, and seeing the cards. Best of all were the cards and photos from Robby and Norfolk; two foster Belgian Shepherds that had stayed with us for awhile.
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