Medical Update

Wow, I hadn't realized that it's been over month since my last post. For those who are interested, I'll try to recap what's been going on:

Three weeks ago I had another medical procedure performed called an MUA, which stands for Manipulation Under Anesthesia. Basically, they numbed up my arm and then worked the wrist back and forth to break up all the scar tissue that had formed since the operation. By all accounts it was a success, and I was surprised to see my wrist move with something close to the flexibility it had before the accident. Now the question was, could I maintain it?

In order to take advantage of the situation, we scheduled daily therapy appointments for the next 2 1/2 weeks. Since we live 35 miles away from the naval hospital, we decided that it would be impractical to try to drive down there every day for my sessions, especially since I wasn't cleared to drive yet and my wife would have to act as my chauffeur. It would be much better if I could get a room down there and simply walk to my appointments, with the added benefit that I could get some schoolwork done down there as well.

Since I'm in the process of being transferred to the Warrior Transition Unit, or WTU, I decided to go see the unit commander there at the hospital about getting a room. After I explained my situation to him, he told me that it simply wasn't possible - the quarters were for enlisted personnel and officers weren't allowed to stay there. The nearest Bachelor Officer Quarters, he told me, were down the road at the 32nd Street Naval Station. "That's fine," I said, "but how am I going to get my appointments, since I can't drive?" "Oh," he replied, "we'll have a driver pick you up." "Ok, but how am I going to get around down there - I can't get too far on my crutches, and there's no mess hall or restaurants nearby." He had no answer for that, so he simply repeated the fact that he was sorry but no rooms were available. Too bad.

Not being one to take no for an answer, I left his office and went down to the hospital's Patient Admin office and spoke to the sailors there. They in turn called in the Chief, and I told her my story. She immediately said that she would "take care of it" and I could check-in the following Monday. Sure enough, when I arrived Monday morning she was waiting with a letter signed by the Navy commander in charge of the barracks authorizing me to stay there for the next three weeks. The Army liaison at the barracks was a little miffed that I hadn't going through "proper channels" to work my request, but a short and one-sided conversation with the Chief was enough to change his state of mind and by the time it was over he was all too willing to get me squared away in my new quarters. As anyone in the Navy will tell you, if a Chief can't get it done, then it simply can't be done or isn't worth doing. :)

Now, three weeks later, I'm back at home. I've managed to retain somewhere around 80% of the flexibility I had immediately following the manipulation, which is good. I'm still working on being able to rotate my arm palm up (supination), but that too is progressing. As an added bonus, I was recently given the all clear by the doctor who operated on my ankle to finally lose my air cast and began walking on my own. I still have a bit of a limp, but that should clear up once my joint gets more stretched out.

Thanks to everyone for their prayers and words of encouragement - God has been faithful! And BZ to the Navy's CPO association for getting things done!

More Good News

Just got back from two doctor's appointments today - one with the physical therapist for my wrist, the other with the orthopedic surgeon who operated on my ankle. Good news on both fronts!

The physical therapist was impressed with the level of progress I'd made in just the time since my visit with her last week; I have much greater flexibility in my fingers, although my wrist movement is still very limited. The surgeon was also very happy about how well my ankle is healing; so much so that my hard cast was tossed out and I was given a new "air" cast, which basically looks like a giant ski boot, complete with an assortment of Velcro straps. Best of all, it's removable, which means I can finally wash my leg and foot! (Trust me, it looks pretty grody)

He also told me that I can begin putting weight on it in about two more weeks - but no more than 20-30 lbs. in conjunction with my new crutches. Best of all, he said that in only four weeks I should be able to walk around with my air cast - so I can finally bid farewell to my wheelchair! Yay!

Even though I know this healing process is going to be a long one ("Like training for the Olympics," said one surgeon), I'm still very encouraged to see how my body is beginning to respond to even the small exercises I'm able to do at this point. Praise God!

The Slow Process of Healing

Well, it's been nearly a month since my accident and by all accounts I'm mending properly. Still, it's a hard thing to get used to - especially being cooped up in a wheelchair, having little or no personal freedom, and depending on others to do many of the simple tasks that one normally takes for granted. While I'm still amazed at the doctors' ability to reconstruct and repair the human body, and the body's own miraculous God-given ability to repair itself - I still find myself impatient that the process seems to take so long.

Yesterday was one of those days where it all just kind of hit me at once. I felt useless, trapped, frustrated, and a little stir-crazy from basically sitting around the house for the past few weeks. Even my recent effort to return to school last week was somewhat thwarted as I found myself unbelievably tired and worn out after only a few hours of attempted study. I had to go and lay down on the couch in the lobby with my arm and leg elevated and rest for awhile just to summon enough strength to sit through my three-hour Greek class.

Still, I'm trying to remain open to what God has to teach me through all of this. One important lesson I believe I'm learning is an increased empathy for the wounded veterans I will be dealing with in the future. Though my injuries aren't as severe, and will heal with time, I now know what it's like to be a cripple, and to have one's life placed "on hold" for the time being. I know the teeth-grinding frustration of chronic pain, and the havoc it can create with one's emotional stability. I know the embarrassment of bodily functions suddenly gone haywire, and of the creeping despair as one wonders whether or not his body will ever become "whole" again.

I'm grateful to be surrounded by loving friends and family, and am becoming increasingly aware of the role they play in the healing process, especially as it relates to keeping my morale up.

Iron Man

Well, I had another visit to the orthopedic clinic today, and managed to get a copy of my x-rays while I was there. The stitches in my wrist came out as well, and I actually got to help out with that part by holding them with the tweezers while the corpsman cut them with a small surgical blade. Very interesting to be involved in one's own suture removal procedure, lemme tell ya.

This here's my left wrist, post-surgery, obviously. Though you can only make out two, there's actually three plates in there, with something like 18 screws holding everything in place. The weird thing is that when I have my cast off, I can actually feel the hardware in there, which is a bit unnerving.

I've still got a long ways to go with the physical therapy, as I can't really flex my hand forward or backwards much, and can't quite make a fist just yet.

Here we have my right ankle, with what looks like about a 4 or 5-inch steel plate with 8 screws holding it in place. If you look closely at the bottom of my tibia, you can see what appears to be multiple fractures down there. I don't know if there really are that many, but it sure looks pretty cool.

What you can't see is the fracture in my fibula, the thin bone on the left. I'm told it was broken a few inches below my knee, which means the force had to travel between the two bones, which also means there's some risk of damage to the ligament between the two bones. Although the doctors could've done another operation to screw the two bones together (and there was much debate on the subject), they ultimately decided that everything was aligned as it should be, and additional surgery was (thankfully) unnecessary at this point.

Obviously, I'm very grateful that this is the extent of my injuries - motorcycle accidents have a nasty way of turning out very, very badly for the rider. However, I am getting a little tired of the knowing looks and self-righteous mini-lectures from the medical staff when they find out that I was in a *motorcycle accident*, but I suppose that they see this kind of thing all too often, and that undoubtedly colors one's perceptions somewhat.

Of course, all these plates and screws means I'll never have a normal airline flight at any time in the foreseeable future...