Background on the auto accident: On Friday afternoon, February 19, 1999, I had taken the afternoon off work to travel, in daylight, to Redding to attend the weekend Winter Symposium of the California/Nevada chapter of the Oregon-California Trails Association (a group whose interest is the emigrant trails of the West). About 10 miles west of Susanville, on Highway 44, I hit black ice (at 55 mph), fishtailed, then bounced off the snowbank into oncoming traffic. I sideswiped the first car, and hit the second car head on. Thank goodness no one else was badly hurt except for me. I was helicoptered by Mountain Lifeflight for a 38-minute ride back to Reno.
Although the CHP report says I had suffered a broken leg, pelvis, and arm, I had luckily not broken my pelvis, and had no internal injuries. Very lucky to even be alive after such a horrible crash, and to have not killed or even badly hurt anyone else, my actual injuries were a broken left femur, a broken left tibia/fibula (all of which decided to shoot out just below my kneecap), a broken right ulna, a small gash in my forehead, and head-to-toe bruising. I lost a lot of blood, so they had to put 4 units back into me (along with the rod in my femur, the plate on my tib/fib and the 13 screws that attach them to me) but was never in much pain during my hospital stay of 6 days. The pain came two weeks later when the plate was put on my broken ulna after it was determined that the initial setting of that break didn't "take".
From the hospital, I was transferred to a brand, new rehabilitation hospital in Reno (Washoe Village), where I spent 11 days learning to ambulate using my specialized "platform walker" because I would not be allowed to bear weight on my left leg for 3 months, and getting the hang of dealing with life in a leg brace and various types of arm casts (4 altogether). I received physical and occupational therapy in the rehab hospital (the hardest challenge was eating the peas they served at least 6 times while I was there with my left hand!). Once home, I received in-home physical therapy and eventually an occupational therapist showed up, but by then (with the help of my mom) I had already figured out how to successfully take showers with a broken arm and a broken leg. After two out-patient surgical visits for manipulations to my leg to break up all the scar tissue to regain range of motion in order to walk again, I was finally ready for physical therapy. The muscles of my left leg were thoroughly atrophied, and being a "near amputee" with a leg that has been mechanically altered by so much titanium puts you in a different category of pain thresholds and work to be done than anyone else you meet at your PT center! My health insurance only paid for 40 sessions of physical therapy to learn to walk again and 6 sessions of occupational therapy to work on "unsticking" my wrist muscles. Due to the tremendous compression of my femur (11 fractures to the point of pulverization), I had lost almost an inch of length in my left leg. I also have only about 105 degrees range of motion in my knee, and will never have more than that (normal range of motion for women is 130+ degrees). I walk a little better every day, albeit with a slight "hitch" to my gait, and my knee still gets stiff after sitting for too long. I still look pretty silly when I try to run, and probably always will.
Thanks to all my hard work to get rehabilitated,
I focus more on all the fun things I can still do just as well
as I could before -- mountain biking, rollerblading, skiing, etc.
I think of myself in a very positive way as the Bionic Gimpy Girl
because the alternative of amputation is a less pleasant thought.
After having already had a mini-stroke (from low-dose birth control
pills), and being mugged in Johannesburg, we think this was my
third "strike", so I should live happily ever after ... :-)
These pictures are an account of that period of my life.
My poor, crunched Mitsubishi Me, not exactly looking very happy, Montero, on the lift at the but I actually DID ask to have wrecking yard. It sacrificed this picture taken after I got its life for mine. And seat out of the ICU. Note the arm cast, belts DO save lives! leg immobilizer, and the kick boxing booties and the black eye.
Looking a bit more like myself My sister, Holly, described me
a few days later. The little sign to others as looking like "an
I'm holding reads, "Of course it eggplant from head to toe". You can
was an accident. Would I do this see some of the bruising on the
to myself on purpose?" underside of the left arm with
the IV holding onto the trapeze.
Sorry it's so graphic, but Me and my platform walker
this is a picture of all the in the entry to my room in the
staples in my knee. Those on the new rehab hospital, Washoe
side of my leg are where some of Village. Arm cast plus leg
the screws were inserted. brace. I am only allowed to
swing my bionic leg along with me
for a total of 3 months. I learned
to balance on my right elbow, steer
with my left hand, and hop on my
right leg awfully well!
Me out for a walk in the hallways My group occupational therapy at rehab (part of my prescribed in rehab. My fellow inmates are a therapy). My nurses are enjoying a stroke victim and a woman who'd been a break. hit by a car while crossing the street.
Me and the "sub-acutes" from The sweet little sub-acute to the ward upstairs playing bingo. my left was a killer bingo player! Across from me is Beverly, one of the rec therapists, with whom I fast became friends. (Cast #2)
Me playing bingo, from a The Yo Yo Night show I arranged different angle. One day I got for during dinner one Saturday most of my fellow inmates on nite. Joel and Ryan Zink my floor to play, too! put on a great show, as usual!
A very upset Cinnabar -- My final daily ritual
extremely happy to be visiting at physical therapy -- having
her human, but not at all happy my leg "bent" for me to at
to be in a strange place. Cast least 115 degrees. The belt
#3 on arm, and the everpresent kept me strapped to the table;
leg brace. the towel dampened my screams
of agony; and Mike, my therapist,
made sure I helped, at least
some, with the pushing.
My new (used, but expensive!) beautiful "stellar blue pearl" '96 Toyota 4Runner,
complete with air bags, parked in one of the handicapped parking spaces at the
Reno Orthopedic Center where my physical and hand therapy took place.
It was a few months before I could drive it because it is a stick shift.
My wonderful friend, Kurt Cupp, loaned me his automatic Jeep Cherokee while
I was used car shopping. In no time at all, with both his car and this 4Runner,
I got very good at hopping to its tailgate to unload my walker or my wheelchair,
as appropriate.
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