THE JOURNEY HOME/SURGERY/ABANDONED

 

INSERT: My long grueling day yesterday interrupted the time line of my journal as I had to journal about yesterday while it was fresh. Yesterday was that bad.  I would like to go back to Sunday afternoon and finish the story to get current but that will result in one more long entry. This one. Being that I am 4 days behind I am going to do my best to condense my week up until Thursday when my first journal started. I think this will end up being a nice souvenir for not just me but my children and the more I do it, the more I am excited about what this can provide both me, mentally and physically, and my children. As my friend Lisa suggested, as my children grow up they will start to loose memories and some of the details of their childhood and this can bring them back to these moments. I do hope that when they look back at their childhood they will remember a fun, loving, high energy father who worked hard and seized the moments of life and was always there for them. But a journal like this could also give them insight into some of the internal battles I went through with work and being a father to 3 supreme high energy strong will children (for the record I would want it not other way). Maybe this story will help them see how I managed in times of internal crisis and fought to stay present. I love them and my family with all my heart and this may end up being a bigger gift for them than it is becoming for me.

 

I NEED A HOSPITAL

Alright. So it is done. My boot is off, they have put a box splint on which is exactly how it sounds. It is a box that is wrapped around my leg with padding. Much more effective than it sounds. When they were putting it on I started to notice some discomfort with pressure much higher on my fibula than the Tibia fracture. I assume the fibula would have snapped along side my Tibia but this was the first indication it may have been higher, about 4 inches below my knee. Regardless they made it comfortable for me and gave me extra padding. Further good news, it was not a compound fracture and there was no sign of internal bleeding, a far more dangerous prognosis. Remember as bad as parts of this story sounds, it can always be worse.  I was managing the pain and still no pain meds and we needed to make a choice. 30 minutes to the nearest Vermont hospital who could do surgery or 45 minutes to Sherbrooke.  This was an easy decision. As some of you read in yesterdays ‘poo-a-polooza’ post I am impatient. Not having to deal with my insurance company would be ideal for everyone and the pain was manageable. So in the car and off to Sherbrooke we went, me in the back of Vic’s SUV with Fion-ski and Vic and Denise and Piaper jumped in the car with Sheri to help her get home with Team Trilogy.

Now, I would like to tell you at this point in time that my family and friends were super worried about me and 100% prioritized getting me to a hospital to get some supreme meds and a proper assessment… nope… this was not the case. After a 30 minute detour at the resort so my daughters could get souvenirs, not sure why we had to go and sit and wait with them, and then another detour so Vic could get a coffee (important as my life was in this drivers hands) we were finally on our way. In there defense, my family has seen me in this situation before. 2.5 years ago I fractured the radius in my arm mountain biking in Moab on the second day and proceeded to mountain bike 5 to 8 hours a day in fairly extreme conditions for the next 5 days with no cast and a fracture radius, albeit not snapped in 2. I think everyone was thinking, he is a tough smurfer… this isn’t going to bother him too much and indeed it didn’t physically, emotionally though I was thinking…. ‘These people really do not care about my well being at all ….” Lol. 

To most, I’m sure the idea of having 2 snapped bones wrapped up in a cardboard box sitting in the back of a 7 seater SUV with your leg resting on the seat in front of you folded over is not the most comfortable setting but I cannot lie, I was good. I had my pee cup, my water, my almonds, and now a coffee with lots of cream to ensure I was getting calcium and a diuretic that would guarantee many pees in a cup while sitting in the back of my buddies CX-9. The idea of dribbling some of my urine, as there is no way to get it all in the cup, in the back of Vic’s pristinely clean SUV made me very happy. You see, he is a boisterous, opinionated jackass who deserves to have someone dribble pee on his back seat every so often to keep him in line. And to be clear he is one of my best friends in the world… and if anyone knows me, well…. I can be an opinionated boisterous jackass too and I probably deserve the same at times as this journal will confirm. The good news, Vic and I are still boat loads of fun and do truly give a smurf about people and community but now it’s time to get back to the journey. We had made our choice and we were on route to Sherbrooke but that decision was soon to be overruled.

I am blessed to have many great friends who I have shared much of my life with. Many of which share many of my passions and some of which are professionals like Gaetan Martel, the other person who got a free ride with me 900 feet down the side of a mountain on the BC/Alaska/Yukon boarder in a river of snow. And like me, came out OK. Well Gaetan is a doctor and like me is an active outdoors person who knows me, knows my limits, and knows what my priorities are and Gaetan is a doctor, but not just a doctor, a great doctor. I called Gaetan knowing he would give me the best advise. The more I thought about it I knew I would be a day or 2 in hospital. Did I want to be 3 hours from home in a hospital and inconvenience people to have to come back to get me or wait for me? Not a chance. “Gaetan, what is the risk of me going to Hull?” Gaetan responded by asking if I could see my toes to which I responded yes. He asked if the color was relatively normal, and again my response was yes. Lastly he asked if I could wiggle my toes and again I said yes. At this time he advised me if I can see my toes, they don’t change color, there is no evidence of severe swelling, and I can wiggle them I would be good to make a straight shot to Hull as long as I could manage the pain and he advised me that they probably would not operate until tomorrow anyways. I popped a few Advil and besides feeling my bones pop around each other every few minutes as I adjusted myself I was good. It really sounds more gross and painful than it was. Well more painful anyways. It is a bit of a weird sensation feeling your bones, that are supposed to be attached rub against each other. And for comfort, hey, it’s all relative. 2 years ago we had to descend a mountain, me with 2 fractured bones and a severely sprained knee, after a true life and death situation. Descending 3.5 hours down the side of a mountain with 2 fractures, that is tough! 4.5 hours in a posh SUV with a coffee and a pee cup… I was at the spa.

5 hours later, at around 7:00 pm, we arrived at the Hull hospital about 15 minutes from my home. No worse for wear. Fion-ski had gratious…. Actually not gratiously at all… very reluctantly… emptied 4 pee cups, Vic was feeling great, and we were ‘home’ per say. The kids, Sheri, Denise and Piaper were not far behind and shortly after made it home with the kids still excited about their week and missing Jay Peak already. Getting checked in I was joking with nurse attending to us who asked us what happened. I told her the story and she looked at me and asked how far away Jay Peak was. When we told her 5 hours she looked at me again and then the box wrapped around my leg with a suspicious look and asked, “You think you have a broken leg?” To which I answered yes. She immediately responded with, “Well I doubt your leg is broken if you just drove 5 hours in a car like this”. My response was fairly immediate,“Oh, I did not break it, I pretty much have snapped both bones in 2.” The nurse obviously did not believe this was possible, she was awesome and super nice but doubtful based on my demeanor and as she went to respond again when Vic piped up with a shit eating grin on his face and in his big boisterous tone told her, “Do NOT confuse his calm demeanor and the fact that he is joking around with you with meaning he does not have a severely broken leg. I have seen this before, he is like this. His leg is 100% broken.” To which she answered, “Well, I guess we will see.” The good news was that Vic and I were believable enough that she believed it could be possible and prioritized us getting in.  Now this was when it got really funny.  Right now I am smiling and giggling just thinking about it as I type this. The nurse, who we now have a great rapport with undoes the bandage and unwraps the box splint and looks at my tibia. With a surprised look she says, “Well that doesn’t look right.” And I kinda giggled and said, “You mean that offset section, yep, that’s where it is broken.” Now it seemed with the extent of the injury it was even more doubtful that I could be this chipper so she asks,  “Are you on pain meds?” and I respond, “Yep, 4 regular strength Advil 3 hours ago.” To which she responds, “Well that is too many.” And then follows up with, “Your other leg? Does it look like this?” (Again I am trying not to laugh typing this as it was this funny even then). Me, playfully as always replies with, “Nope, the other one is completely straight and to confirm this herself she pulls my left pant leg up and concurs that they don’t look the same and she got us right to the front of the line. I can tell you that the humor in these interactions, for all of us, the nurse, myself, Vic and Fion-ski, made the entire thing much more of an adventure and tolerable. She was very fun and in spite of her doubts made sure I got the quick treatment I needed but the humor, wouldn’t stop there. Now, I needed an x-ray.

Shortly after being placed in the hallway on a stretcher with Fion-ski and Vic in tow I had seen our first doctor. At this point in time it was obvious that I had a good fracture, potentially 2 in my right lower leg. She advised me that I would be going in for an x-ray in a few minutes and asked how the pain was. I told her that I was fine and as long as they don’t have to move my leg around in too many weird positions that it would be OK. Her response, “Ok, we will get you something for pain.” And I thought well this will be fun… and shortly after I was in the x-ray room. The first person to see me was a nurse with an inject able pain killer who advised me it would take about 15 to 20 minutes to take affect. He injects me and immediately they pull me up beside the table and ask me how they think they should put me on the table. I ask them not to pick up my leg by the foot but to grab my leg with one hand below my calf and one below my ankle, lift, and don’t pull my foot above the level my calf is and that I would be able to shift my body weight onto the table. Now this is 30 seconds after the injection. Not going to lie. At this point in time I am thinking maybe we should wait 10 or 15 minutes if we are going to start moving but whatever, I’m impatient too. Let’s get er’ done and on the table I went. Moments later my leg was up, left, right, sideways, etc with limited to no support with bones grinding and popping and me sucking it up and then moments later we were done, back on the gurney I went and I was in the hallway with Vic. Vic immediately asks me, “Are you done already?” I’m like, “Yep!” Vic, “Did they give you pain killers?” Me again, “Yep! An inject able the second I went in that takes 15 to 20 minutes to start taking affect.” Vic with his prototypical, I don’t understand, are people stupid, what am I missing perplexed looks responds with, “But you were only in there for 5 minutes?” Me again, “Yep… I was thinking the same thing as they move my leg around.” And we both could do nothing else but laugh. Bad news, yes it hurt. Good news is that I managed and in there defense they must have assumed by my calm nature and moving my leg myself at times that I was fine with what they were doing and I guess I was…. just not sure why they gave me the pain killer if they had not intention of waiting??? Seemed like a waste of good drugs. Needless to say, the x-rays confirmed that indeed my self-assessment was correct and I had snapped both my tibia and fibula. Shortly after this I was advised that they would be putting me in a full leg cast to my upper thigh and advised me that I would be going for surgery the next morning. Monday the 12th.

 

THE OVERNIGHT

X-Ray done! Check, I no longer have to convince people that I have broke both bones in my leg. Cast installed up to the waste! Check, now I get to deal with and think about how much a full leg cast is going to affect my life, especially my incredible relationship with my long-term friend, Number 2 (aka a bowel movement – Wikipedia definition, an act of defecation or the feces discharged in an act of defecation). Scheduled for surgery so I know longer have to deal with the feeling of my bones rubbing, popping, grinding up against each other! Check! Now all I have to do is make it through the night. My attending physician gives me a choice. I could go home and come back in the morning or they can check me in and I can stay over night. Going home really didn’t seem like an option. I have a 2 story home with a walk out basement. 2 flights of stairs up just to do 2 flights of stairs down with a full leg cast just to come back in the morning. Not to mention putting everyone out again. The doctor and I agreed that it would be best to be admitted. Now, I want to be clear before this next section. I will rarely ever complain about our health care system. I am very thankful for the care I received but….

When we agreed that I would be admitted I advised them that I would gladly pay for a private room and they said OK we will request that and they moved me back into the hallway and that was the last I heard of it. 15 minutes passed, 30 minutes passed, 2 hours passed and nothing from anyone. By this time Vic and Fion-ski went for food for us as I was told I could eat and drink up to midnight and we ate dinner. I thanked them for staying with me and being there for me. They wished me luck and on their way they went. Now it is me and the hum of the emergency hallway. At about midnight or so a nurse walked by and asked me how I was doing to which I responded, “Well” but I was starting to realize that something may have been lost in translation. You see, the Hull hospital is in Quebec and Quebec is a francophone province. Not a bilingual province. When I had asked for a private room in English, this translated to please place me in a major intersection in emergency where there is a lot of light and traffic and I was realizing this was completely my fault. You see, I do speak limited French, at least enough to know that things are often backwards in French. What was I thinking??? I should have been smart enough to ask if I could be left to sleep with a broken leg in a busy hallway. That for certain would have resulted in a nice, quiet, dark, private room. It had been a long day and I just wanted to sleep but between the noise, lights going on and off, traffic, other patients being wheeled in to sit beside me etc. It was going to be a long night but you know what, I’m tough, I can deal. But I did have 2 frustrations. One of which made me reach out to my MP this week to ask who I needed to speak to.

Frustration 1 – I get it. The hospital is at capacity. I had heard this before, but for the doctors and nurses. When you are walking by each other in the hallway and it is 2:00 am in the morning with 5 patients laying there, some with significant injuries and many dealing with much pain. Is it too much to ask to keep the socialization to a minimum or nothing at all? Maybe a whisper? I’m not talking about patient conversations. I’m talking about the “Hey, how are you? What time did you start? How are things?” all at a normal loud tone. I don’t speak French super well but enough to understand the conversation. And the doctors and nurses going into the office beside me, literally right beside my head, with the computers etc. When you go into that office and turn the light on, blasting it in the face of whom ever is in the hallway trying to sleep and talking on your cell phones at the top of your voice, could you not close the door? None of you did. It seemed that between midnight and 5:00 am in the morning everyone was tired to the point that many of the people who had to spend the night in the hallway had to deal with what seemed like a lack of courtesy/respect for the people in their care. There were really sick people in that hallway and a few of them elderly. Again, I am tough, I can deal, 3 hours of sleep on and off no problem. I will survive but I really felt for the 3 elderly people in that hallway which brings me to my second frustration.

Frustration 2 – And again, don’t get me wrong. I am thankful to live in a place where I can get incredible health care. Yes it is slower than we like at times. Yes they sometimes leave me in a hallway or give me pain meds just to do procedures long before the meds can kick in but I am GRATEFUL! It could be way way worse for us but elderly people in the hallway? This made me sad and probably kept me up more than anything. Elderly people being checked into a hospital being left in a hallway to sleep and be attended to. I am sorry, that is not right. These people deserved better than this. Beds should not be first come first serve. There should be a reasonable priority with who goes first. The young, who are often scared, and the elderly, who deserve the utmost of our respect and dignity should be in those rooms. There needs to be provisions to ensure that an allotment of rooms are set aside so that an 80 year old Lebanese woman who can not speak English is not in a hallway overnight. The 70 year old gentleman in the gurney behind me with a leg injury in obvious pain and who could not sleep in this environment should have been moved to a quiet place to help him get the rest needed to recover. Watching them and worrying about them is probably what kept me up most the night. I can assure you, if they came to get me to bring me to a room, that room would have went to one of those elderly people. There was no way that I would have left that hallway before them. This needs to change.

 

SURGERY

After about 3 hours of total sleep the morning did not fail me. It did come. Shortly before 7:00 the noise, hallway energy and light levels started to increase and shift change was on. At this point I had asked if there was any indication of when I would be getting surgery and no one had any idea but around 7:00 am I was advised that they would be moving me upstairs and I was first up for surgery. The good news was that regardless of my calm positive attitude they were prioritizing the nature of my injuries and wanted to get me in. Upstairs I went into orthopedics meeting with the first doctor who outlined the nature of my injuries and the recovery time.  I was advised that the surgery would be done by Dr Richards and I was very happy to hear this. You see, Dr Richard’s and I met almost 2 years ago to the date when I fractured 2 bones in the avalanche. Gaetan referred me to him and told me he is an exceptional surgeon and would be my best option. When I first met ‘Dr Richards’ I knew he was my kind of guy and an exceptional person. “You must be Paul.” He said and I replied with “I am and good to meet you Dr Richards. I have been told I am in excellent hands.” His immediate response was, “It’s Cory, please call me Cory”. I have incredible respect for Dr’s, the discipline, the level of education, and the sacrifices they need to make to get to where they are. Especially specialists like orthopedic surgeons. I remember when my good friend Dr Jenny Walsh, who years later is still has Mrs Jenny Walsh on her driver’s license, was going through it. Residency was ludicrous. And for these people to get to where they are they do deserve the ultimate respect and this title but when people like ‘Cory’ and ‘Jenny’ simply want to be referred to as normal people like you and I. There really is something truly special about that.

When Cory first came in the orthopedics area I did not speak to him. I did see him and here the first physician say to him with some excitement that he had a blah blah blah and a blah blah blah up first. I would like to tell you it sounded like English or French but it didn’t. Cory, immediately responded with, “Excellent”. Well….  from my point of view… and what I was told…. this injury was not excellent Cory… it was quite severe… at least for me… but I was smart enough to know that being with someone who loves their work… well that would work in my favour. Minutes later I was upstairs being prepped and meeting with Cory and his team. Cory came over and we made acquaintances again. He advised me of the nature of my injuries and the surgical options; a nail down the middle of my Tibia or plates that would be screwed in. He said it would be a game time decision once they get my leg open. As for the fibula, he seemed 100% confident that although it was a long, spiral fracture that when he reset the Tibia the fibula would simply go back in place.  He asked me if I had any questions and I said well just one. I wanted to know. The place it happened, when it happened I was going slow. It seemed so innocent. I wanted to know if my bone density was OK. You see, I have broken 5 bones in 2.5 years. Now the first three, arm – flying over my handlebars in Moab going down a rocky shoot at 30 km/hr and tumbling for 15 feet on rocks, well that makes sense. Having your leg literally wrenched around so that your foot is almost pointed backwards doing 80 km/hr off a near cliff in an avalanche, well breaking 2 bones makes sense there too. But this? This didn’t make sense.  “Cory, can you look and tell what my bone density is like when you are doing this?” I asked and he replied. “This has nothing to do with bone density. It is obvious that you were twisting when this happened and the smallest force bending your leg over a point while twisting… well that is what did this.”  I told him that I was thankful that he was the surgeon and told him that I knew I was in good hands. With a smile he grabbed my good leg, gave it a squeeze and a rub and said you are healthy and fit and will be on the other side of this soon enough.

The anesthesiologist was a young doctor, probably in his late 30’s. Didn’t look like a doctor, especially one with so much responsibility, not that a doctor was supposed to look like something. He gave me the 2 options; 1 he puts me under the traditional way and I sleep through the procedure or 2, he gives me an epidural and I am conscious through the procedure and he gave me the pros and cons of both. I did ask what I would feel if conscious and he said no pain but you would feel the pressure and things moving around. Now I had just spent 21 hours feeling my bones move around with limited to no pain meds so doing this with an epidural? That won’t be bad… and my scientific curiosity… it would be cool to be part of the procedure and listen to them. But then I thought about it. I can simply YouTube and watch them plate someone else’s leg. This would be a great time to nap. And hey, after 21 hours of feeling my bones rub, pop, grind against each other and only 3 hours of sleep…. Well,  I had had enough and if the idea of a good nap wasn’t good enough… the anesthesiologist advised me that the recovery time is quicker if they simply knock me out. More chance you could go home today. Done! Give me the drugs and in we went. They got me on the table, hooked up my IV and started the drip. They gave me a shot of something and advised me that I would feel a little dizzy and that was normal. They injected a couple ‘blockers’ into my leg just below my knee to block any nerve pain coming up and were prepping the room. At this point in time a younger doctor came in, I guess assuming I was fully drugged up, and grabbed my leg and started moving it and I quickly asked him to please NOT pick up my leg by my foot. The anesthesiologist calmly advised him that he thought it would be best if he just gives him 2 more minutes until he is done. I thought this was a good idea too. Moments later I hear with excitement, “Ok…. There he is… He is coming out….”. It was that fast. It was over and I was waking up. I was advised that the surgery went great, indeed my fibula fell back into place requiring no surgical attention and I only had a cast up to my knee which needless to say, would be a game changer for me personally, my buddy Number 2, and my beautiful wife Sheri who already has too much on her plate. It was all good news. Everything went well. Hours later I was discharged and back home in Chelsea, It was only about 30 hours from the fracture to me getting in my home but man… sometimes it is indescribable what it means to be ‘home’ and I was home!

 

DAY 1 (post surgery) – Tuesday, March 13th - First day of recovery

How and where will I spend the next 8 weeks of my life?

Ok, this was going to be important and Sheri knows me as well as anyone. She knows this is going to be a long haul. How do you get a guy who is constantly moving, outside whenever he can be, to sit still for 8 weeks? None weight bearing for a minimum of 6 weeks, minimum of 8 weeks with no driving and a 3 to 4 months recovery.  And he has to stay inside because there is ice and snow outside and he cannot fall. He loves snow, he loves winter and he has to sit and watch the winter disappear right before his eyes.  Well I can tell you Sheri was amazing. She had set up a recliner right in front of our western facing patio door, which is surrounded by 2 stories of pain glass windows letting the sun in and giving me a gorgeous view out into the forest and the winter wonderland that is around our home… and the airiness of the 2 stories above me with no ceiling? Well, it almost feels like I am outside and I will be outside soon enough. As for the recliner…. Well to be clear, I am not a guy who has his own recliner or have a ‘seat’ anywhere in my house for that matter. I have 7 year old triplets. I get to sit where they are not sitting or where they have not set up a fort, art project, imaginary throne, or anywhere else that they do not designate as an appropriate place for me to sit. In this case, this recliner would be mine… apparently for the next 2 months and it looked like it was going to be as good as it could get.

We had made a plan for pain management. Again, this is not me being tough. My body is really good at producing what it needs to manage pain. My own systems take care of much of what I need but I was given Hydromorphone, a very powerful narcotic for pain. I was told to take 2 to 3 pills every 4 hours and not wait until the pain sets in. Well here is the thing. I want to be able to feel some pain. I don’t want to be crippled with pain but if I am doing something and it is hurting I want to know. The way I see it is if something I am doing is hurting it is affecting my healing… and I have a long recovery. So I decided to take one the previous night at bedtime and set my alarm to take 1 more 4 hours after to ensure a good night sleep. My leg was sore yet I slept well. It was the perfect balance.

The plan of attack

Good home location? Check! Pain management? Check! Plan for the next 2 months? I really have no smurfin’ idea. The good news is, I am a mind over matter kind of guy. I have to figure this out. I cannot go crazy. I have too much to manage. It is our single busiest week of the year and we have incredible staff who are taking care of everything and switched their lives around in a heart beat to change locations and plans for this week. I am super thankful for all of them…. And in all of this, I just put an offer in to purchase a building to move our zoo to and it was accepted. I need to get financing in place, waive conditions, etc and I have 4 weeks to do this. This may seem like lots of time but it is not. This is not a home mortgage type thing. This is a tight deadline. And lastly, I need to build a new museum exhibit by the spring. And do all of this from a chair in my home. Well…. This past winter I faced impossible odds and deadlines and we got er’ done and I don’t think this will be any different. We will find a way. I will keep my sanity, and I will become better for this and I am smart enough to know that if any of this is going to get done well then I need to protect my sanity first and foremost. I need a plan.

(NOTE: It is important that you keep in mind now that I am writing this journal about coming home to Hull Sunday, surgery, Monday, and now Tuesday & Wednesday on Saturday the 17th  as I try and catch up. I didn’t start writing a journal/blog until Thursday, which is now filling much of time. So from a timeline standpoint, I had not been writing to fill my day.  I was trying to figure out a plan of attack for surviving as I really had none, and any thoughts about what I will do will change shortly.)

Here is what I did know…. I knew what the plan could not be! I had a few people say this could be a good time for you to buckle down, catch up on emails, do contracts, marketing, write manuals, etc, etc, etc. Here is the thing. I really really really do not like sitting in front of a computer balancing 14 things at a time while having emails and requests, large and tiny, fly in at me at a rapid fire pace, which is my email, all while my phone rings and people need me to have complete focus. This fries my brain and will not be a good option for survival. As a matter of fact, sitting in front of a computer doing work will result in me going insane. Generally speaking, when I have done this in the past I have been able to manage it with outdoor physical activity working from home. Typical schedule;

4:00 am – Out of bed and start doing emails before anyone starts responding or calling me.

6:00 am - Kids are up and coming down stairs. Still working as Sheri is getting them ready. I sit at the piano with them for 10 minutes each, have a coffee, engage with them while half heartedly working and send them to the bus for 7:30.

7:30 am – Brain getting fried. Can’t sit at computer much longer. Feel the crazies coming. Tie up any loose ends I was working on. Vic stops in with Delaney (Newfoundlander/Great Dane cross and Buzz’s best friend) and the 4 of us go hiking or skiing in the forest for 30 minutes to an hour depending on everyone’s schedule.

9:00 am – Back on computer buckling down. Bust it until noon.

Noon – Stop, put computer down, get food and a coffee. I do not multi task at this time. Walk around the house, change the music, etc and focus on what I am doing. Reset my mind often with a short walk with Buzz.

After lunch to 3:00 – Now the phone calls are coming in from staff and business contacts, emails flying back, managing time but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I can start to really pick up the tempo as the 3:30 to 5:00 pm finish line is in site. By 2:30/3:00 I get outside one more time, skiing, hiking, biking in the summer. Usually a good hour this time as I need to fully decompress before the chaos of my day really starts with the always energetic return home of RaeLynn, Walter, and Hope. In this afternoon activity I often bring my hands free for calls as I want to address as much as I can before the kids get home but I MUST get outside.

3:30 – Queue Team Trilogy! If I am home I stop working unless some major deadline is before me, at which time I find a quiet place to go and finish things off. At this point, once done, I dedicate my time to the family until the kids go to bed,  take some calls from staff and shut er’ down myself hopefully between 8:00 and 9:00 as I will be up early.

I write this to help you understand. Yes I can sit and blast through computer work balancing 15 balls in the air. BUT I must balance this with time outside and physical activity. The activity and forest returns my sanity. But now I have zero activity and only a view of the forest. Sitting blasting through work is NOT an option over the next 2 months. I will go crazy and anyone who knows me well. Knows this.

A recent realization for me and important side note;

The timing of this injury is a little weird. Ironically enough, over the past 3 months, I have come to the realization that I really should not be the one sitting at a computer sending emails and making calls. Simply I don’t love it. At times I really do hate it. Which often leads to me putting things off. This is not good. I will tell you what I am really good at. I am really good at getting up and moving, talking to people, getting people excited, making things happened, building exhibits, working alongside my staff and leading by example. I am a great leader if I can work alongside you and work with you. This is what I love to do.  I am not good at telling you what to do and I don’t like sitting at a computer (Ironic as I write this while typing a 9,400 word journal but another epiphany to come). The good news is I have a lot of people in place now that love doing what I do not and they are great at it. I have been mobilizing an exceptional support staff, easily the best I have had. I have tried having one person to do all I needed and had great people helping but it was an impossible task for any one person. Now, I am spreading it between multiple teams and it is working great. I came to the realization that me doing emails is going to be a thing of the past. I will still receive them but someone will manage them for me. Make sure only the ones I 100% need to see will come to me. I will be up and active. I will go to the zoo. Work along side staff with construction, at the zoo, events, etc and manage my calls in the 50 minutes it takes for me to drive to the zoo and again on my return stopping to ski and bike along the way. I will do everything I professionally love the most. I have earned this right over the past 23 years. This was a perfect plan and the final stages were being put in place after the March Break… and then it happened… ‘Pop’, ‘Pop’…  I have 3 to 4 months recovery and need to figure out a new plan for me. Actually, if you think about it, I have people taking over all the stuff I don’t love. The final pieces are in place. I guess the timing is good. It happened the first week that my new plan was going into place. I now have people in place to take over the things I simply do not love do to and I can keep my sanity…. But I need to find something to fill the days… I simply can not just sit here….

Plan number 1

When I got home on Monday I was sore and tired and went right to my comfy basement where my TV is. This is a great comfy room with a fire place, walk out basement patio doors and a 60” Pioneer Elite TV that I just bought a couple months ago for $1,000… that was a steal. Only problem with this room is there is not a lot of natural light as our second floor deck wraps around the house and blocks the sun from this window. I threw on the TV and thought to myself…  well this is it. Netflix here I come. Here is the thing with me. Sitting in front of a TV has never been my first choice of activities ever. The only shows I have ever watched from start to finish in my life were ‘The Sopranos’, ‘Hell On Wheels’ and ‘The Wire’. In my life, that is it. I simply do not have the spare time or focus to follow shows through when the plot thins and they all do at some point. There is soooo much more I could be doing. Socializing with real people, being outside, exercising, playing guitar, anything.  I am not a TV person. But what else would I do in my current condition. TV and social media was going to be it. I had been keeping friends and family up to date on my condition through Facebook and I am not a hard-core Facebook user either. Please forgive me but I use it very narcissistically. I use it to tell people what I am doing and share photos of my children so my friends and family can see it. I am super busy and rarely find myself sitting down looking for something to do which seems to be the time most people scroll and search friends to catch up with what others are doing. Personally, I rarely have this down time. Regardless, as anyone who follows me would have seen, I used FB A LOT since the incident on Sunday. Quite simply I was bored and Facebook became this outlet for me. It gave me not just a link to outside but something to do to keep busy and now Facebook was going to help me strategize a plan to keep my sanity.

ASIDE: Social Media Makes People Dumb

Now I am not saying that people who use social media are dumb. I use it, I am not dumb. I am not saying that when you are consuming social media you are dumb, I don’t feel dumb when I use it but we are not intelligent when consuming social media. Hear me out and I will use my Facebook post as my reference. There is sooooo much information that people are processing on social media and so quickly that we do not have time to actually take any of it in, think about it and process it before responding. You see, we have to be fast. You need to get in, get out, and get on, (man I really really wish Number 2 did that yesterday). If you do not, you will miss something. There is too much to stop and think every time you see something. You see it, believe it, make a comment and on to the next thing. Now, I do really really appreciate the feedback and support I have been given on FB over the past few days and the Netflix recommendations. It is appreciated. But case in point, here is my post;

‘NEW HOBBY -What I have never done my entire life. Laze around all day and watch movies but I’m just happy to be home.

Netflix recommendations please. But please. No ridiculous zombie shows. Comedies, dramas, etc. And I think I prefer movies over shows. Just watched The Outsider. That was awesome.’

 

So… what happened…. I had 100’s of responses and suggestions as to what to watch and I think of the 100’s of suggestions only 3 people suggested a movie. But I just said I prefer movies over shows.  Maybe I should have said, I really don’t watch shows. I simply cannot follow them through as I get bored and even with a broken leg this will happen. I really really do appreciate the support and feedback and input and loved the engagement and I really will try to watch a few of these shows, especially if not 42 seasons, but you would think I would get more than 3 movie suggestions. And for the record, TONS of super intelligent people suggested shows to me. These are not dumb people but social media really does dumb us down. With all this being said I am very thankful for it. It was social media that got me through what otherwise would have been a very very long Monday & Tuesday on my first road to recovery.  I never made it back in front of the TV after Monday but I did watch Wind River in bed from my iPad Tuesday evening. That movie is AWESOME!

 

DAY 2 – Wednesday, March 14th – ABANDONED! The first day I start to loose it!

All and all the first full day after surgery was good. Facebook kept me active and engaging, I was comfortable, sleeping well with the aid of a high powered narcotic even if only taking 1/3 of the recommended dose. All in all I was in good spirits but that was about to change. Wednesday was the first day that I started to loose my mind a bit (and it has only been 3 days since the accident). I spent more time posting on social media and engaging with friends and then got on my zoo emails, this was a bad idea. If you made it this far in this blog entry you would realize that without a release, this could go bad and it did. Even as I’m typing this I am realizing in hindsight that this is where Wednesday went wrong. Self-realization is a powerful thing. We often know what to do for ourselves, what makes us happy and healthy mentally and physically yet we often ignore it and jump into bad habits. What was I thinking trying to do work emails??? Human nature I guess. Anyways, back to my story. It started as a normal day but I quickly started to get on edge. It is hard being an active person and needing to rely on people but I was trying to sit as much as possible. With this said, Wednesday morning I had already slipped twice on my crutches, luckily catching myself before I hit the ground, I was feeling tired and anxious and now I was imprisoning myself in work emails with no outlet. And the slide began…. Sheri, could not bring me anything fast enough. “Can you please get me pain meds” became “Sheri, where is my pain meds.” “Sheri, could you get me a coffee when you have a second” became “Sheri, pleeeease… I really need a coffee” in a frustrated tone. I was becoming short and getting stir crazy and Sheri did not deserve this and I had scheduled a meeting at Les Saisons…

That’s right… I scheduled a meeting with crutches, at our local coffee shop with tons of snow everywhere at a time when I am supposed to be completely protecting my leg. Now this was an important meeting and I love Les Saisons and often meet people there for meetings. The meeting was for the financing on the new building we were trying to buy and I had to have the meeting but it should have been at the house. I guess I wanted to/thought I needed to, get out. Bad idea! Within moments of stating my journey to Les Saison I again slipped, this time going down the stairs at my house, and with frustratration looked at Sheri like she should have known to help me. I got to the car and was struggling to pull myself in with the ice while protecting my leg and slipped again twice. Each time becoming more agitated and anxious about protecting my leg and now I am blaming others for these issues and the struggles I am going through. This has to be someone’s fault… god knows it’s not mine. It can’t be me. Who else is here? Ah there is someone, Sheri, the love of my life, my soul mate who has always been there for me, always supported me and always compromised when I was being stubborn and hard headed, yah, there she is… this is her fault… I’m gonna take this out on her… Not one of my proudest moments! Why is it you think we do this? We have shitty days, internalize things and often take out our frustrations on the people we are closest to and love the most. I guess truly loving someone and trusting them with your heart means that you can show them all of your heart, the good, the bad, the beauty and compassion, the ugly, and everything else that lives inside of you…. I guess you need to take the good with the bad and as Sheri would do, she quickly forgave me as I sat embarrassed, frustrated and ashamed in the back of a Toyota Sienna with my leg up en route to Les Saison, chauffeur, nurse, life and business partner in tow. Good news, the meeting went well, I got back home safe, but Sheri and I were in need of a nap after a long morning. I needed to reset.

ABANDONED!

This is where I would love to tell you that I woke up from my nap and had a perfect Wednesday evening with my family but this story has more trials and tribulations before the happy ending. I woke up from my nap and was feeling betting. Sheri had fed the family, attended to me and assured I had everything I needed and was on her way to Jiu Jitsu with Team Trilogy for their evening ‘I’m gonna kick your ass’ training session. Everything was good for me. I was going to have some time to chill alone in the living room, and relax. I had ordered take out, it had arrived and everything was set for a perfect evening. Sheri and the kids left and within moments it all went down the ‘sh#&er’.

It started small, I loaded up Slacker and put Foo Fighters radio on my cherished stereo, one of my 4 most cherished, non essential, possessions – If you must know I have 4 ‘non essential’ things in my life that give me the most amount of joy. These were not inexpensive items but worth every cent I paid and more as they constantly bring me sooo much peace, happiness and relaxation; my stereo, my acoustic guitar, my espresso machine, and my mountain bike. Now, I say ‘non essential’ items as I can live without them…. If I had to… I have 4 essential items that I could not live without; Sheri, RaeLynn, Walter and Hope and I think that would be obvious by now. But how could my stereo system and the Foo Fighters possibly be letting me down? I put it on and sat down and within minutes it was too loud and not really soothing my mind. It was frustrating me. I was trying to fight through the grating on my brain while I stared at my take out food but I couldn’t. I would not be able to eat until I fixed this and please understand that I am not this anxious in general but the radio had to be changed. I would have to turn it down or change the station which involved me getting out of my recliner. If Sheri and the kids were here I would not have this problem. They could help me in 5 steps but no… This is going to be all me. Here is another problem. The recliner, as comfortable as it is, is impossible for me to close the leg part because of the angle I am sitting at and the position of my right leg. So I have to teeter off the side to get my crutches and gain my balance in a precarious position. Now, every little thing inconveniencing me was starting to add up. I was alone, sore, and frustrated and it wasn’t getting better. I managed to regain my composure, teetered out of the chair and turned the music down and changed to ‘Coffee House’ radio. Got back in my chair and exhaled. All was going to be better now. Super hot chicken wings and Caesar salad would fix everything. Yep… not gonna happen. The chicken wings had come in one of those circular tin foil take out containers that have the cardboard top. I am salivating as I open it running my right index finger around the edge turning the flap of the tin foil up to access the wings and I proceed to slice a 2 cm gash across my finger and start to bleed significantly all over myself. I quickly put pressure on it, use my left hand to get the food off my lap and planned my next move. What can I do? I am all by myself, I have been abandoned and I am going to bleed to death in my living room from a tin foil cut and you know what…  I don’t care! Smurf it! Shoot me now! I am alone, sore, tired and beyond frustrated and teetering my weakened body out of the recliner did not seem like a viable option but I went for it anyways... Back on the crutches and into the bathroom while trying to contain the bleeding. Finally the bleeding stops, the bandage was on, and I managed to make it to my dinner after the most frustrating 45 minutes I have had since the accident. I sat down, exhaled and was ready. Everything would be better... Nope! The salad was terrible. Flavorless and soggy, the wings were cold and greasy and the idea of getting out of the recliner again to microwave them? Well that wasn’t going to happen. If this cat was getting out of this recliner again it would be to jump off the balcony or go to bed. I felt helpless in my own body and my own house. I was abandoned and couldn’t understand why my family had forsaken me. They don’t deserve to live a normal life while I fight for survival. They have to suffer with me. This is not my fault. I would be there for them. All this time watching the gorgeous fluffy white snow accumulate outside my window… that wasn’t helping either….  I wanted to cry! I had been completely defeated and realized I really just needed to start another day. I had to get to bed. This day could not be repeated if I was going to survive and I will not let this defeat me.

Just like that, my family had returned. They had not forsaken me. With no knowledge of the horrific evening that was my prior 2 hours or the near death experience, the kids proceeded to rapid fire accounts of Jiu Jitsu class at me while Sheri outlined how awesome the class was and I was at peace again.  The kids had a snack, I crutched myself upstairs to bed, propped my leg up, curled up with Sheri and fell asleep watching the first part of ‘Concussion’ while responding to a few comments significant comments from my FB posts. 

Tomorrow will be a better day….  Tomorrow I have to make a better plan….  And this my friends… ended up being the plan encouraged by friends… I would start a journal and write about this incident and about not being able to be me. Ironically enough writing about not being able to be me is actually resulting in me writing about me. This journey may end up helping me to discover who I truly am…..  It is early but I did not see that coming.