My life was turned upside down on September 22, 2012 when my older brother and I got into a severe car accident. He was lucky enough to be unharmed asked from bruises and scrapes; I, however, ended up with a broken nose, a fractured left fibula, and a compound fracture of my left tibia; not to mention a 17 day stay in the hospital. Note, this may be graphic to some, but I have attempted to make this as friendly as possible
The back of the car, you can vaguely see my brothers head on the left by the EMT.
(Photo from the Herald Democrat)
The drivers side of the car.
(Photo from KXII)
How it happened:We first swerved right to avoid hitting a car that had pulled out in front of us; we then hit a metal culvert in the road which made us airborne to the left, flying into the street/stop sign. We also flipped an undetermined number of times, onto the top and possibly passenger side of the vehicle.
The aftermath:
Once we stopped rolling everything seems to either be a blur or slow motion in my memory, I remember quite a bit of what happened though. We called for emergency assistance and what seemed like an eternity later the ambulance showed up. They put my in a neck brace since I had obvious head trauma from my broken nose and I was pretty certain that my leg was broken. They covered my brother and I up with blankets to protect us as they cut the doors off of the car. After getting my door off, since I was obviously the most critically injured person in the vehicle they cut mine off first, they started maneuvering me onto a stretcher. It looks much easier to do on movies and TV than it was in real life for me. I suppose because of the angle of everything I actually had to attempt to lift myself as well, without using my left leg. They got me mostly on when I noticed my leg was bleeding, I for some reason felt compelled to say my leg was bleeding, even though I now am quite sure they knew, and an EMT immediately told me to lie down. I listened thinking it was for my safety on the stretcher and nothing more. After what seemed like ages they got me into the ambulance where my clothing was cut away, an IV inserted, pulse and blood pressure was checked, and all sorts of things. I was given the option of getting morphine in my IV, but it was explained to me that it could be detrimental to my body if I were to have a concussion, so I declined.
Thankfully I didn't have a concussion and received painkillers in the ER. Lots of painkillers, as well as lots of antibiotics. Due to my state of shock and injuries the pain was unable to be controlled, I was either unconscious due to my medicated state or about an 8 on the pain scale.
This is essentially what the pain scale looks like in a hospital if you didn't know.
This however was the pain scale I wish I had had most of the time.
I pretty much don't remember anything from the first week after the wreck. Most of what I remember is my time in the ER and receiving my initial CAT scans, CT scans, and all the other basic workup. The first night I had emergency surgery where the wound was cleaned and my leg was fitted with an external fixator. I was taken to the intermediate ICU and stayed there for the next three and a half days. On the 24th I had my second surgery, which was supposed to be the surgery in which I had the titanium rod and screws inserted into my leg. However I had a fever during the night before and they feared that I had an infection. To combat that possibility and the compartment syndrome I was possibly developing my surgeon decided to open my leg up more to release some of the tension and inspect for infection. The subsequent three surgeries were performed to insert the titanium rod in my tibia for stabilization, the screws for added stabilization, the bone graft for assistance in bone growth, and to close the remainder of the wound as much as possible. Throughout the course of my stay I had a wound V.A.C., a PICC line, an echo-cardiogram, a doppler ultrasound on my legs, and I wore a telemonitor to monitor my heart rate all the time.
I left the hospital on October 8th with only the wound V.A.C., which I had for almost three weeks after leaving the hospital, and quite a few medications. On December 17th I started my ongoing physical therapy journey. I have been blessed beyond measure with healing that has progressed smoothly and at times quickly, a loving bunch of family and friends that helped take care of me and put up with my insane moods, and wonderful doctors, nurses, therapists, and various others that have made my recovery a tolerable and at times wonderful thing. While at times recovery is still a major struggle, I am taking life one step at a time and making it through with a little help.
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