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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