The FINAL posting regarding the “accident” three years ago.

With this set of pre-postings, which were memorialized in this forum so that I might reference them from time to time without repeating the details, it is officially behind us.

I am thankful to God that I wasn’t taken that day and I have more time on earth.  I clearly don’t want the legacy I leave to be one of dying in a senseless boating accident at 9:18pm on a Thursday night returning from dinner with one of my dealers — working!  I want to leave a better mark on those I cherish than how fragile life really is or how quickly things can change.  Nor do I want my kids to learn lessons from my mistakes, but rather from the positive choices I make.  I want to teach them how to live long before I teach them how to die.  I want them to witness how choices beget results and that we can, in fact, influence our futures.  I want them to know they can spread happiness, goodwill and the love of God in the way we chose to interact with those around us.  I most definitely want them to realize the positive impact they can have on others and the confidence to act accordingly.

As this final chapter (of the pre-postings) comes to a close, however, it is worth summarizing a few noteworthy takeaways:

• As BAD as things seem on any given day — Know that Another Day will come.
• When friends turn out not to be friends, or when the world lets you down (or friends, employers, teammates, etc), you should look in the mirror to see what you might first want to change.
• There are far more worthy priorities in life than getting ahead–especially in a race defined by others not yourself.
• Never, Ever take your spouse, children or loved ones for granted.

The more I think about it, the angrier I get!  How can you finally make it to trial (years after an accident), go through 2 days of testimony and pompous rituals that only attorneys enjoy, repeating what has already been rehashed in deposition after deposition only to end with “I’ll take it under advisement”?  No decision, no finality, no “you win / you lose”, nothing?

The issue of guilt or innocence was never a legal debate.  Admission of responsibility was clear and unquestioned from day one.  This was simply about the money.  Who was going to pay the bills?  Since it now gets down to three separate insurance carriers, the fact that a persons life (not to mention a family) is ruined, his career is over, he is crippled for life and continues to suffer pain he previously didn’t know was possible is immaterial.  Judges, especially federal court judges, are clearly tied to the purse strings of insurance interests.  Lawyers (aka blood sucking scum) are simply players in a “process” where they can actually be friends with each other but act like adversaries in court and in front of clients.  I now fully appreciate and underestimated the call to vigilantism.

[Note, the judge took 10 months to finally render a verdict after trial...which was nearly three years after the accident...only to start another round of settlement discussions between lawyers and insurance companies!  My disdain for this profession has been validated.]

(Modified personal note)

Over the last 2 years, I’ve been asked many questions regarding “my accident”.  It’s not much of a stretch given that I have a fixator on my left leg that is impossible to disguise.  I cover it up so people don’t freak out, but it isn’t hard to figure out that it’s more than a cast under the cover.

One question that troubled me the first few times it was asked  was a personal one.  “Given the extent of your injuries, how do you feel about your friend now that he is avoiding any liability in the accident?”

This was more troubling than it should have been.  You must understand how terribly depressed, angry, shocked and “dissolutioned” I was for nearly 2 years after being released from the hospital:

• I believed I would most certainly be fired during the Ford Motor Company downsizing(s) and I wasn’t sure how I would be able to find another job.  I feared personal bankruptcy for the first time in my life.
• I felt I was un-insurable (pre-existing condition) and still went to physical therapy 3 times a week.
• I believed my support at the Company had vanished and those that were still in power had forsaken me.
• I was convinced I would be crippled/handicapped for life…even though I never gave up hope I would be able to walk without a crutch.
• I was bewildered by the fact that “friends” had disappeared.
• I was outraged and indignant that a “friend” I put into business, who was driving the boat that caused my injuries was posturing to avoid any liability.  In fact, the legal team representing my own Company also vehemently fought to avoid doing the right thing.
• The list goes on and on…I was buried in self pity.

How could it be that the world suddenly changed over night?  How could almost everything I thought should happen, not happen during a time someone is critically injured?  How could these real friends not really be real friends?

The answer, I found, was in the mirror.

I was not the friend I thought I was.  I certainly wasn’t the father, the husband, the family member or the employee/manager I thought I was either.  The truth sometimes must hit us in the face before we admit or accept it.

I was simply a person who held a spot (job, acquaintance, role) in a given point in time.  If I were truly what I perceived myself to be, this world would have behaved as expected–but the fault lies with my own perceptions. If I wanted to fix something, I had to start with my own behavior.

So this is my takeaway and my promise going forward.  I will live up to my desired perception for those roles and relationships that truly matter to me:  husband, father, family member, mentor, employee and real friend.  I refuse to set unrealistic expectations of acquaintances and social friends ever again.  I want to enjoy what life has to offer and give more than I receive.

The realization that I didn’t deserve any more “special” treatment than any other injured person eventually settled in.  I wasn’t the “special” person I thought I was.  The silver lining in this revelation is what it calls me to do differently.  I’ve been given another opportunity…lets hope I don’t blow this one.

“It’s over…My career is over.”  As surreal as it was, this is what I said at trial.  We went to trial this week…another horrible chapter in a pathetic legal dispute (the necessity of which is a major personal disappointment in the character of another person I held in higher esteem) over the impact of my injuries.  Obviously, my depression, anger and exhaustion is reflected in what I said.  I am not sure what the future holds.

Despite the fact that my company has allowed me to return to work part-time (yet paying me full-time) in a job that, compared to previous assignments is akin to watching the grass grow, I am vulnerable.  We are going through our second/third major restructuring in less than a year.  If rumors are even close to being accurate, we have to separate another 20% of the company.  I will not survive….the company has ZERO handicapped managers that I know of; not to mention one requiring physical therapy 3-5 times a week.  I can no longer fulfill what I’ve been trained to do, my main management support have elected to retire or are obviously on the verge of doing so and with my medical (physical) condition I’m virtually unemployable!  In every scenario I’ve run, I’m bankrupt and we lose our home.  This does not end well.

[Note: I don't want to ruin the glimpse one can see of my desperation right after trial.  The closure I sought from one part of my life couldn't have eased the pain of going through another vulnerable professional restructuring anyway.  This and other notes are preserved to remind myself and anyone else who is interested, that we can and will have bad periods in our lives.]

A Day to Remember…I wish I could.  My loss of memory and the associated brain injury issues really freaked me out for more than a year.  I desperately wanted to remember what happened that night of the accident.

I hung on every printed report, listened to every story, even re-read my own emails trying to piece together or recall what happened.  The facts as I knew them simply didn’t add up. The fact that others were also telling me that stories “were all over the board” with inaccuracies, made for even more confusion. Every time someone would say something I think I recalled (boat ride, conference calls, etc) I would jump in excitement that it was coming back to me…only to realize it was really just a different memory.  Losing a month of life and its memory is really freaky even years later.  I don’t understand how weeks of memory even unrelated to an accident are erased, but it started a revelation of even more to worry about.

Aside from the confusion, embarrassment and disappointment of losing my memory of what happened that night  (along with a few weeks surrounding the day of the accident), the realization that my brain wasn’t working normally sent panic through my veins for months.

The volume, variety and strength of the prescription drugs in my system certainly contributed, but my noticeably slower processing speed and short term memory were clearly amiss.  I couldn’t tell anyone (I reasoned with myself) because if they didn’t let me return to work and stay I wouldn’t be able to survive financially.  Fortunately, I can look back on this stage of my recovery knowing that my mental capacity and functioning were restored, but at the time it was almost more than I could handle.  I took to the only thing I could measure and track:

• Sudoku puzzles.  I have long been a crossword puzzle fan and do the sudoku puzzles daily.  Since they have been online for months I knew I could regularly finish most of them in less than 3-5 minutes.  I would never make a world champion or anything, but I took pride in my ability to quickly solve them.  Since my family knew I loved them, they had stocked up my bedside with 4 or 5 books filled with puzzles of all difficulty levels.  At first, I thought I was just too tired to think and would fall asleep while working on one.  After a while, I came to the realization that I was simply not able to finish them in less than 20 or 30 minutes!  It was frightening.  Even the simplest of puzzles seemed too much.

• Document everything.  In almost every case, I could see that it was my short term memory that was shot. I began writing everything down (and putting time and dates with the notes).  Every evening I would read what I wrote that day…and unfortunately it added to my confusion.  I would forget details from the same day!  I would swear the note was from a different day.  If I failed to record a name of an individual who visited (for instance), I would forget their name. It was simply horrible.

In the end, the injury to my brain was the most critical and frightening of all.  It contributed to what I now know is depression, anger and borderline irrational behavior.  I am freely documenting this admission of injuries so that others who may find similarities, can know it’s treatable and one can also fully recover.   Time heals.

…A Very Long Recovery…

There's No Place Like Home

I was awakened after 22 days of forced sleep.  Confused, not sure what had happened and in serious pain, but I immediately knew my wife and kids faces when I saw them and wanted to go home.

I’m not sure if the fact that my wife was a former RN (and provided most of my care even in the hospital) or if my insurance wouldn’t cover any more time in the hospital, but I was happy to be released to go home after 5 weeks of ICU & reconstructive surgeries.

Before my Voice returned: I was without a voice for several weeks (tracheotomy).  But as usual, I had lots to say.  The stories of me trying to negotiate with a janitor at the hospital for a fan (it was apparently uncomfortably warm in the hospital floor) are humorous.  I was forced to use a pad of paper and a pen to converse with everyone.  It seems my wife kept many of the notes from those days and we find them entertaining.  While some are incoherent (who knows), some show the same stubborn, bullheaded and opinionated character I had become trying to instruct caregivers who probably didn’t share the same appreciation for “who I was” (or thought I was).

When I returned home, my family had converted our first floor dining room into my recovery room (bedroom) that I would use for the next several months. I didn’t have the strength to get into bed, let alone use stairs.  I required almost constant care for about 2 weeks until I could manage to get into a wheel chair.  Even after I had the strength to get into the chair, it was too big to get through our bathroom door nor could I push myself with only one arm.   The only real memories of these first few weeks are “fuzzy” at best.

Elbow Joint Under Repair

There are several memories of those first 90 days worthy of recording:

• As my voice began to return it sounded a bit like Donald Duck or perhaps a whisper voice I couldn’t mimic now.

• I weighed only 128 lbs (down from approx 175 lbs prior to the accident).  I’m not sure what they were pumping into that feeding tube!  Not the weight-loss program I would ever recommend.  [Note: Just before the accident (maybe 6 months), I had reached 205 lbs and decided to go on the Adkins program.  It was an incredible success...I lost 25+ lbs in about 30-40 days.  It was quite noticeable and I was feeling great.]  However, now I was lighter than I was in high school or maybe grade school!

• My daughter took many pictures that were as flattering as possible.  She was smart enough not to ask for permission (I wouldn’t have given it) and I’m glad she preserved a few.

Filling the Tibia Gap

• The leg required elevation above my heart all the time.  Even though I was heavily medicated I could feel it if it were lowered.  My wife purchased at least a dozen different types of angle pillows that were everywhere in the house.

• The ONLY clothes that I could put on with ilizarov frames installed on my arm and leg were gym shorts and tank tops.  Nothing else could be put on over them.  It would be several months before I could wear anything besides button up gym pants.

• The elbow joint was “ok to move”, but was too painful to use.  Obviously, I am thankful I am right handed!

The Ankle Puzzle

• Each individual site (screw entry points) required cleaning care daily.  Becky was meticulous in sterilizing everything and I never had an issue.

• Once my voice came back, I began accepting calls.  It seems I was on the phone as often as I was awake on some days.

• The first winter was a challenge for my wife and family.  Moving me from the chair into the car took incredible patience and a lot of pre-planning.

• A friend built several ramps for both inside (living room dropped down one stair) and outside the house so the wheel chair could enter & exit. With ice, however, it was still an incredible challenge.  Even as light as I was, assisting me from the chair into the car was an accomplishment!

Saying Enough is Enough on drugs. To say the least, I was badly damaged and required a lot of care and pain management.  The drugs they were giving me knocked me out for the most part.  I quickly realized that the fentanyl patch & drug combo had side effects that simply weren’t worth the trip.  I was learning first hand, that chemical depression is real and scary.  It wasn’t something you just shake off.  I decided I’d rather die of pain than deal with these drugs any longer—I spent 9 of the most horrific days of my life before I started feeling like I would make it.  I didn’t think it was humanly possible to be awake for 9 days…but I proved it was possible!  I wouldn’t wish that experience on my worst enemy (if I had any).  I am so thankful it is over.  It remains a frightening memory that I’d like to forget.