Yesterday at school one of my students showed up on crutches and a pretty hefty cast on his leg. He broke it this past weekend doing stuff that kids just normally do. It was an accident that he will never forget. Did I ever feel sympathy/empathy for him and I found myself giving him the same advice that I gave to little NaDonna back home in Hutchinson when we were both members of the "broken arm club" together. "It gets better!" That little guy is in for several weeks of feeling the itching and discomfort of having his own personal exoskeleton but as all kids are, Kael is resilient. Not sure that I've seen a tougher kid than him but bless his heart, it won't be all that much fun. Oh yeah, for those who are thinking it...don't worry, I don't plan to join his "broken bone" club. I promise!
I was looking back at my blog posts this morning from two years ago in November as I remembered the folks who helped me when my accident happened in August of 2011. I had been so grateful for whatever they had done to help me, all the way from the front lawn of my house in Hutchinson, to the ER at Hutch Hospital to the Kansas Orthopaedic Center in Wichita and everywhere else in between. I decided to reprint those posts below if you would care to read. To all of the medical personnel out there, anyone who is responsible for taking care of the injured and the sick, I say a huge word of thanks! What would we do without you guys to help us? We'd be in a big world of hurt, literally. Have a great day everyone and be safe and healthy. Doctors, EMS folks, nurses, and hospitals are busy enough as it is. Besides that, I kinda like having you all around here, alive and well!
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Part 1-Thanking my first responders
The days that have followed my November 4th dr. appointment, the one that said "Peggy Miller, you are free at last, at least until the next surgery", have flown by quickly. I have returned to doing many of the same things that I did before my August 4th accident and the truth be told, there have been many times that I have almost forgotten that I had been hurt. Sometimes, particularly if I am wearing long sleeves, you wouldn't even know that there had been a problem in the first place.
But as the days continue to move towards my next surgery in late December, I am keenly aware that "old lefty" still has some serious challenges ahead. Most of my left hand has returned to sleep again, save only "lucky" (my middle finger) that faired pretty well all along. My wrist still has the notorious "bump", the result of the helter-skelter reattachment of the bone that had broken off of the ulna side. At times, especially when I bump up against something, it hurts and I know it's there. Although I am using my left hand and wrist as much I can, without the surgery I'm guessing it's not going to improve much more from its current state. Yet, even in all of this, I continue to count myself so blessed and fortunate.
I have spoken many times about the "miracle workers" at Kansas Orthopaedic Center in Wichita. Dr. Chan and his staff, Kim Lockwood and his staff in physical therapy, and everyone else over there, have all worked together to make sure that I am as healthy as I am today. But there were other "miracle workers" that I met during this ordeal, and today, on this Thanksgiving Eve, I made it a point to look them up and thank them for what they did for me.
I don't remember exactly everything about what happened in the hour or so after I landed, smack dab, in the middle of the curb in front of my home. Some of it is just a blur to me now. But there were many things I do vividly recall. My son, Grahame, was just coming out of the house and found me in a crumpled heap. I scooped up "old lefty", limped over to my pick up and yelled at Grahame that I needed to get to the ER and NOW. I remember Grahame driving as fast as he could safely do so down 17th Street and me yelling and crying out in pain about every block or so.
It couldn't have taken us more than 5 minutes to get to the ER and by the time we made it there, I told Grahame to just drive through the garage area and start laying on the horn and surely someone would hear it and come to help. Sure enough, horn blaring all the way into the garage, it worked. By the time Grahame put the truck into "park", a nurse was heading our way, wheel chair in tow. Her name was Kristi Sourk and she will forever be at the top of the list of my all-time favorite people. When I went out to the hospital to meet with her this morning, I was disappointed to learn that she was not able to be there today. Seems as though the sickness that has made its rounds all over Hutch as of late, finally caught up to her. Even nurses get sick! We talked by phone though and made plans to meet on Monday of next week for the first time since August 4th. I told her that I was going to tell her story and so it does go......
I remember the first words out of my mouth to her~"I fell and it's broke!" and I definitely recall her comment back to me, "You know, I think you're right!" With that she whisked me away, straight back to a room and the whole recovery process ordeal began. I went through triage right there in the hospital garage in the first 2 minutes of my arrival. Within a half-hour, I was being readied for surgery.
One of the things that struck me about Kristi that morning was the overall presence of calm that she had about her. Here I was, half-crazed out of my mind in pain, and yet she stayed the course without becoming rattled herself. When the ER doctor arrived, in record time by the way, he asked me about the medicines I was allergic to...and funny how you remember sometimes exactly what you say to someone, but here was my response..."I'm allergic to penicillin, Sulfa, and Bactrim but I dang sure am not allergic to morphine and I want it right now!" (actually, I kind of cleaned up that comment...) No sooner had I said the word morphine, that Kristi squeezed my shoulder with syringe in hand and said, "That's what I'm giving you right now, Peggy. It's going to help very soon."
There were so many good nurses and CNAs that were in and out of that room in the first hour. As I've mentioned before, they didn't have to tell me how bad I was hurt because all I had to do was to look at their faces each time a new one entered my room. That "quick" astonished glance at my arm and then an even quicker glance away from it told me that it didn't look so pretty. But it was Kristi who stayed by my side the entire hour that I was in the ER.
I recall her asking me if I wanted them to save the clothing I was wearing or to just to cut it off of me. By that time a whole lot of moaning and groaning was going on (and it was me doing it, not the nurses by the way.. LOL) and I just said "cut it all off me".....That whole act, of having to remove a patient's clothing in such a manner, was done in such a reverent and respectful way. I thought of that later on with much appreciation... Regretfully I admit that my choices of words at that particular time would have made even a sailor blush. I had to have been the world's worst patient that she had ever seen, but Kristi still treated me with dignity, compassion and respect. Not sure a patient could ask for much more than that from their nurse.
A strange thing I recall is that she reached up and took the ear bud from my MP3 player out of my ear and said, with a smile on her face, that if she couldn't listen to music, then I couldn't either. I hadn't even realized it was still playing! I must have been out of my mind, realizing later that the song playing at that time was Creedence Clearwater Revival's~Fortunate Son and the "Peggy Miller way" of listening to music has only one setting for volume-VERY LOUD. I told her that I was wearing a special ankle bracelet and to try to save it for me...heck that was already taken care of by her 15 minutes earlier. When I didn't have the presence of mind to speak for myself, she just took charge for me.
One hour after arrival at the hospital, I was being readied for surgery and my ER stint was over. By that point I was already living quite happily in "morphine land" and things didn't seem so bad at all. But as they wheeled me out of there, I grabbed Kristi's hand (not with "old lefty" of course) and thanked her for what she did for me. And as I type these words friends, all of a sudden I am over come with emotion and the lump in my throat right now is a testament to the angelic kindness of an ER nurse who helped to save me. On this Thanksgiving Eve, my heart is full of gratitude for her and all of the nurses and health care professionals that work so diligently each and every day to save life AND limb! May God bless them all.....
I don't remember exactly everything about what happened in the hour or so after I landed, smack dab, in the middle of the curb in front of my home. Some of it is just a blur to me now. But there were many things I do vividly recall. My son, Grahame, was just coming out of the house and found me in a crumpled heap. I scooped up "old lefty", limped over to my pick up and yelled at Grahame that I needed to get to the ER and NOW. I remember Grahame driving as fast as he could safely do so down 17th Street and me yelling and crying out in pain about every block or so.
It couldn't have taken us more than 5 minutes to get to the ER and by the time we made it there, I told Grahame to just drive through the garage area and start laying on the horn and surely someone would hear it and come to help. Sure enough, horn blaring all the way into the garage, it worked. By the time Grahame put the truck into "park", a nurse was heading our way, wheel chair in tow. Her name was Kristi Sourk and she will forever be at the top of the list of my all-time favorite people. When I went out to the hospital to meet with her this morning, I was disappointed to learn that she was not able to be there today. Seems as though the sickness that has made its rounds all over Hutch as of late, finally caught up to her. Even nurses get sick! We talked by phone though and made plans to meet on Monday of next week for the first time since August 4th. I told her that I was going to tell her story and so it does go......
I remember the first words out of my mouth to her~"I fell and it's broke!" and I definitely recall her comment back to me, "You know, I think you're right!" With that she whisked me away, straight back to a room and the whole recovery process ordeal began. I went through triage right there in the hospital garage in the first 2 minutes of my arrival. Within a half-hour, I was being readied for surgery.
One of the things that struck me about Kristi that morning was the overall presence of calm that she had about her. Here I was, half-crazed out of my mind in pain, and yet she stayed the course without becoming rattled herself. When the ER doctor arrived, in record time by the way, he asked me about the medicines I was allergic to...and funny how you remember sometimes exactly what you say to someone, but here was my response..."I'm allergic to penicillin, Sulfa, and Bactrim but I dang sure am not allergic to morphine and I want it right now!" (actually, I kind of cleaned up that comment...) No sooner had I said the word morphine, that Kristi squeezed my shoulder with syringe in hand and said, "That's what I'm giving you right now, Peggy. It's going to help very soon."
There were so many good nurses and CNAs that were in and out of that room in the first hour. As I've mentioned before, they didn't have to tell me how bad I was hurt because all I had to do was to look at their faces each time a new one entered my room. That "quick" astonished glance at my arm and then an even quicker glance away from it told me that it didn't look so pretty. But it was Kristi who stayed by my side the entire hour that I was in the ER.
I recall her asking me if I wanted them to save the clothing I was wearing or to just to cut it off of me. By that time a whole lot of moaning and groaning was going on (and it was me doing it, not the nurses by the way.. LOL) and I just said "cut it all off me".....That whole act, of having to remove a patient's clothing in such a manner, was done in such a reverent and respectful way. I thought of that later on with much appreciation... Regretfully I admit that my choices of words at that particular time would have made even a sailor blush. I had to have been the world's worst patient that she had ever seen, but Kristi still treated me with dignity, compassion and respect. Not sure a patient could ask for much more than that from their nurse.
A strange thing I recall is that she reached up and took the ear bud from my MP3 player out of my ear and said, with a smile on her face, that if she couldn't listen to music, then I couldn't either. I hadn't even realized it was still playing! I must have been out of my mind, realizing later that the song playing at that time was Creedence Clearwater Revival's~Fortunate Son and the "Peggy Miller way" of listening to music has only one setting for volume-VERY LOUD. I told her that I was wearing a special ankle bracelet and to try to save it for me...heck that was already taken care of by her 15 minutes earlier. When I didn't have the presence of mind to speak for myself, she just took charge for me.
One hour after arrival at the hospital, I was being readied for surgery and my ER stint was over. By that point I was already living quite happily in "morphine land" and things didn't seem so bad at all. But as they wheeled me out of there, I grabbed Kristi's hand (not with "old lefty" of course) and thanked her for what she did for me. And as I type these words friends, all of a sudden I am over come with emotion and the lump in my throat right now is a testament to the angelic kindness of an ER nurse who helped to save me. On this Thanksgiving Eve, my heart is full of gratitude for her and all of the nurses and health care professionals that work so diligently each and every day to save life AND limb! May God bless them all.....
What is left of my favorite Smith's Market t-shirt that I was wearing that day and "old lefty's" biking glove. No way they were coming off of me without some very serious "scissor work".
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Part 2-Thanking my first responders
Oh dear friends, 3 things that you really don't ever want your doctor to say to you before he does surgery on you....
"The damage is horrible-it's a total collapse."
"I'm not even sure that I can help you."
"You don't plan on having a normal wrist again, do you?"
Meet Dr. Scott Goin, an orthopaedic surgeon at Promise Regional Medical Center here in Hutchinson. Dr. Goin was the doctor "on call" that morning of August 4th and it was him that got the word about a crazy woman who had wrecked her bike and was in big trouble. I went back to his office today, to thank him for what he had done for me 3 months ago.
Dr. Goin and I are not strangers to one another. He has done orthoscopic knee surgery twice now on both of my knees. I'm sure he didn't wake up that August morning thinking that he'd be seeing me in only a few hours. But we did meet up again and this time the trauma to my left arm and wrist was much more extensive than just cleaning out a little arthritis from behind a kneecap. I was thankful that he was the doctor on call and by the time he saw me, I was already in a room upstairs, many miles into "morphine land".
When he took a look at the x-rays, Dr. Goin told me that he knew right away that the repair of the damage done was pretty much out of his league. At very best, he was going to try to pin some of the bones together and then use an external fixator device to hold everything in place temporarily. He told me it would take a while to do the surgery and it would be tricky and that he just hoped he could do this much for me.
At that point in time, I don't think the full impact of what I had done to myself had even sunk in. The morphine was definitely doing what it was supposed to and I barely remember myself saying to him, "Ok, just do what you can." After he left, with what little senses I had left, I started to realize that he wasn't kidding. All of a sudden, I began to accept the fact that the "most expensive" bike ride in the world had just taken place that morning in Hutchinson, KS. And the cost of it had little to do with what my overall hospital bill would be, rather it had EVERYTHING to do with the possibility that I could lose the use of my arm. And I really wasn't crazy about the prospects of my new nickname being "old-one arm."
But since Peggy Miller's name is not followed by the initials "MD" and Scott Goin's are, I had to have faith and trust in him and just sign my name on that surgery consent. 5 long hours, 2 pins, and 1 external fixator later, I was back in my room. He told me later that he had never seen an arm get hurt in such a fashion, especially by someone just riding their bike. A "freakish" accident if ever there was one. The external fixator device is shown below...you don't very see very many of those used on an arm....
3 days later I was being referred by Dr. Goin to see Dr. Chan in Wichita. Dr. Goin knew that my injuries were far beyond what he could repair in Hutchinson and he wanted to send me to the very best person he knew. You know I thanked him for his candor and honesty in dealing with my injuries. Lots of my friends, who learned that he told me early on that he wasn't sure he could do anything, were very surprised at his saying so. I guess they may have thought he gave up too soon. I, on the other hand, really appreciate the fact that he didn't "sugar coat" anything. In this case, I was better off to know the truth right up front rather than hang on to hope that might not even be there in the first place.
When I returned to see him this morning for the first time in over 3 months, I shook his hand in thanks for what he did that day as he tried to save my arm. He was happy to see the progress and glad to know that Dr. Chan was going ahead with the second surgery. It sure felt good to see him and to tell how much I appreciated what he did for me. Dr. Goin is a lot like Dr. Chan~both of them believe that the credit for getting better only starts with the doctor. The patient is the one who has to carry the weight from then on. Getting better is the "ultimate goal."
Today on this Thanksgiving Eve, I give thanks for medical care and the doctors who provide it. I'm so very grateful to have a job in which health insurance is one of the many benefits. Too many folks these days have to do without insurance and for that I am very sorry. I complain so very much about high health insurance premiums, about long waits in the doctor's office and emergency rooms, about medicine that is so expensive that you have to wonder how to pay for it sometimes. Grumble as we human beings do, today this I know~without Drs. Goin and Chan, my "lot" in life would be so very much different than it was prior to August 4th. They have earned "this bicycle rider's" utmost of respect forever.
"The damage is horrible-it's a total collapse."
"I'm not even sure that I can help you."
"You don't plan on having a normal wrist again, do you?"
Meet Dr. Scott Goin, an orthopaedic surgeon at Promise Regional Medical Center here in Hutchinson. Dr. Goin was the doctor "on call" that morning of August 4th and it was him that got the word about a crazy woman who had wrecked her bike and was in big trouble. I went back to his office today, to thank him for what he had done for me 3 months ago.
When he took a look at the x-rays, Dr. Goin told me that he knew right away that the repair of the damage done was pretty much out of his league. At very best, he was going to try to pin some of the bones together and then use an external fixator device to hold everything in place temporarily. He told me it would take a while to do the surgery and it would be tricky and that he just hoped he could do this much for me.
At that point in time, I don't think the full impact of what I had done to myself had even sunk in. The morphine was definitely doing what it was supposed to and I barely remember myself saying to him, "Ok, just do what you can." After he left, with what little senses I had left, I started to realize that he wasn't kidding. All of a sudden, I began to accept the fact that the "most expensive" bike ride in the world had just taken place that morning in Hutchinson, KS. And the cost of it had little to do with what my overall hospital bill would be, rather it had EVERYTHING to do with the possibility that I could lose the use of my arm. And I really wasn't crazy about the prospects of my new nickname being "old-one arm."
But since Peggy Miller's name is not followed by the initials "MD" and Scott Goin's are, I had to have faith and trust in him and just sign my name on that surgery consent. 5 long hours, 2 pins, and 1 external fixator later, I was back in my room. He told me later that he had never seen an arm get hurt in such a fashion, especially by someone just riding their bike. A "freakish" accident if ever there was one. The external fixator device is shown below...you don't very see very many of those used on an arm....
When I returned to see him this morning for the first time in over 3 months, I shook his hand in thanks for what he did that day as he tried to save my arm. He was happy to see the progress and glad to know that Dr. Chan was going ahead with the second surgery. It sure felt good to see him and to tell how much I appreciated what he did for me. Dr. Goin is a lot like Dr. Chan~both of them believe that the credit for getting better only starts with the doctor. The patient is the one who has to carry the weight from then on. Getting better is the "ultimate goal."
Today on this Thanksgiving Eve, I give thanks for medical care and the doctors who provide it. I'm so very grateful to have a job in which health insurance is one of the many benefits. Too many folks these days have to do without insurance and for that I am very sorry. I complain so very much about high health insurance premiums, about long waits in the doctor's office and emergency rooms, about medicine that is so expensive that you have to wonder how to pay for it sometimes. Grumble as we human beings do, today this I know~without Drs. Goin and Chan, my "lot" in life would be so very much different than it was prior to August 4th. They have earned "this bicycle rider's" utmost of respect forever.
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