Friday, January 04, 2008
New blog
Well, it's not really new anymore, but as of April 2007, my blog is located at http://www.thiseye.com/blog ... check it out! All posts and comments have been transferred over, so update your bookmarks, your RSS feeds and read my ramblings.
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Weak
I'm at a bar, and I'm finding that I can't be on my feet for too long because my back's weak because of the brace. This sucks.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Materialism
It amazes me how materialistic people can be. Everything in this country is about getting the bigger, better, faster, more powerful, newer whatever. Does this really make people happy? Actually, I know it does for some people, and that, to me, is rather interesting. I mean I have a decent car, a decent home that I own and even a nice TV. I consider myself pretty well off, but I don't really get pleasure in buying things or upgrading. Even with the TV that I bought a few months ago, I second-guessed afterwards whether I really wanted to keep it. I mean, I know that I don't need it. For how little I watch TV, it is excessive. But my open living room necessitates a large TV. But I'll admit that my place is too big for me, too. So excessiveness begets excessiveness. I really think that's what happens to a lot of people. I bought this place as an investment/nicer place to live than an apartment. I have an extra bedroom that I use only because my computer is in there. That could easily be in my living room. I bought couches because I suppose that's something you have to have, but I don't use them very often. I have a bar so I bought bar stools that I never use. What else am I going to do with a bar if I don't get stools for it? I bought a dining table that I never use. Again, what am I going to do with all that space if I don't buy a table for it? I have an extra bathroom that is completely unnecessary for me besides convenience. Only on a few occasions have I had guests that used the tub in there.
That's what I see in my life. What I see in others makes me shake my head. I know it's nice to spoil yourself every now and then, and I can certainly understand if there really is a benefit to the excessiveness. But how often do we convince ourselves that "it's worth it"? Is it really? I think a lot of people aren't true to themselves when they ask these questions. At what point does it just become a symbol of your social status? Do you really need that eight-passenger SUV? How about that 400 horsepower car? Wouldn't something that gets, say, more than 20 mpg make a little more sense? But no, this is not a country of sense. This is a country of flashiness, of having the best, of making your neighbor green with envy. I still don't know what happiness is, but I know that it's not found in big houses or fancy cars ... at least not for me.
That's what I see in my life. What I see in others makes me shake my head. I know it's nice to spoil yourself every now and then, and I can certainly understand if there really is a benefit to the excessiveness. But how often do we convince ourselves that "it's worth it"? Is it really? I think a lot of people aren't true to themselves when they ask these questions. At what point does it just become a symbol of your social status? Do you really need that eight-passenger SUV? How about that 400 horsepower car? Wouldn't something that gets, say, more than 20 mpg make a little more sense? But no, this is not a country of sense. This is a country of flashiness, of having the best, of making your neighbor green with envy. I still don't know what happiness is, but I know that it's not found in big houses or fancy cars ... at least not for me.
Isn't life great? Part III - The cruelty and irony of it
Okay, so here I am. I should be getting my brace off in a week or so. However, I want to mention a few more thoughts about my accident:
The Cruelty/Irony
The Cruelty/Irony
- Not being able to play ultimate. I'd been so excited about throwing the disc around and playing. Even the week this happened, I was trying to get a group together to throw around because I had the itch. I even told Leon that I wasn't sure about going to Echo Mountain that week because I kinda wanted to throw around that day. I had even signed up for one league and verbally committed to playing with my friends in another before this happened. I should be getting a refund soon in the league I had signed up for, at least. And my other team found a replacement. I've been going to throw around with friends recently, but without being able to run or jump, it's really not the same.
- We were on the lift at Echo Mountain when I told Leon that perhaps we should've just put off coming there until the following week since we were planning to go to Vail Saturday, and I was probably going to go boarding Sunday and/or Saturday. I told him it'd be unfortunate if we got hurt. I don't think I knocked on wood.
- This is kind of a stretch, but I always log off my computer at work because we're technically supposed to. I found out that a lot of people don't, but I still always did. That day I went to Echo Mountain was the first day I decided not to log off.
- I had finally gotten into a decent workout regiment before this happened. I was going to the gym somewhat regularly (still not great, though), doing exercises at home pretty regularly and getting lots of protein. I was starting to work my abs in addition to my upper body. I didn't have a well-defined six-pack yet, but if I stood the right way, you could see them coming in. The abs are more or less gone in my five weeks of inactivity. I'm curious what kind of shape I'll be in after another month or so when I can finally run and do stuff.
- Weather - The average high temperature here in the twenty days prior to my injury: 35°F - most of this winter has been pretty frigid for this area. Coupled with the massive amounts of snow we received in the city, it made it very difficult to do anything outside whereas normally, it's not unusual to be able to go out for a run or whatever every few weeks.
The average high temperature here in the past month: 58.5°F ... the past two weeks 68.5°F ... both well above our average for this time of the year. Beautiful weather for ultimate, running, volleyball, even boarding ... but alas, I can't enjoy it. - Weather Part 2 - What's worse about the weather is that my brace is rather warm. It's like having an extra layer. I started out wearing a t-shirt underneath it, and long-sleeve shirt over it when it was still a little cold. This was like having three layers. As it warmed up, I quickly realized that was not going to work, so I started wearing the brace without a t-shirt and eventually had to start pulling out the short-sleeved shirts. Unfortunately, I have a lot more long-sleeve shirts that can fit around the brace, so lately it's been a little difficult finding a shirt to wear. Even still, I get really sweaty if I happen to be outside in the >60° weather. It's kinda gross, so I can't even bask in the weather.
- Weather Part 3 - I got a handicapped parking tag thinking that if the weather continued with the snow/ice, my trek to work from the parking lot every day could get hazardous. Moreover, it'd just be nice to not have to walk ¼ mile from my car to work in the freezing cold. But, my parking spot has been more or less useless, and I've even parked out further so I can at least get a little exercise. At this point, it sounds like I'm just whining (and maybe I am), but getting a handicapped spot was the one few bright sides of this ordeal.
- The day of the incident, I sent my boss an email saying that I was heading out early that day, but that I'd still have all my hours in for the week even though I was taking Friday off, too. That of course, did not happen.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Isn't life great? Part II
Okay, so I make it through the night fine. Sleeping in the brace actually turns out to be not too bad at all. I consider going in to work later in the day Thursday but am rather embarrassed about the whole situation and don't really want to deal with all the questions. So I stay at home, although I considered going in after hours to avoid contact. Cyndi calls me to see how I'm doing. Apparently the rumor mill was abuzz even though I told John and Leon that I probably won't want to mention it at work. I'm kinda glad they did, though, because that was less I had to deal with when I made it in. Apparently, the stories of me describe me as a "superstar" going off those jumps before my little incident. I balk at that kind of talk: considering how it ended, it was an embarrassment, not something to brag about ... no matter how good I was doing before.
I decide to go to my dodgeball game that night even though I couldn't play. I think the main reason I went was to start dealing with the questions and being in public with the brace. Unfortunately, we had a low turnout that day, so a lot of my friends weren't there. I consider going in to work on Friday because a lot of my friends at work were going to Vail for our annual lab ski trip so that's less I'd have to face, but I decide just to stay at home. I drive back to the hospital to get my x-rays for my appointment with the spine specialist later in the week. That was quite a scary experience not being able to turn my neck to check my blind spots or back up, and I decide that I should not be driving short of going to work and back (I'm pretty close to work, and I can take small roads without too much traffic). As news spread, all my friends were very generous with their offerings of help. I guess it didn't really all hit me until Saturday night when we went to go see a play. I was driving to Leon's place, and I'm not sure what happened. I just thought of everything I like doing, and how I fucked it all up by getting hurt. About what could have happened and what may still happen. I wiped my eyes and composed myself as I approached my friend's place.
Sunday, at the suggestion of D, I hosted an impromptu Oscar party. Surprisingly, my place was already pretty clean, but I managed to do the rest before everyone came. We had a pretty good turnout, and it was a fun time. I was surprised there was enough interest in the show and just hanging out that we never pulled out the boardgames that we had planned. And then came Monday ...
My first day back at work. I was eager to get back to work but was still not excited about dealing with the questions. I was also self-conscious about the brace though I had been out with it during the weekend. Monday was not good for me though. Just walking the halls to my desk was upsetting as I got the obligatory stares. I just sat at my desk and didn't want to leave. I wept for the second time as I just couldn't deal with everything. Cyndi and Shannon came by later to see how I was doing, and I couldn't even look them in the eye. I eventually returned to my normal self, more or less, by the end of the day, but there were still a lot of questions. Apparently, John and Leon had kept everything a little low-key at my behest. Unfortunately, this meant I had to deal with "What the heck happened to you?" and other random comments. I was a little curt at first to these comments. When I realized how few people knew of the details, I started composing an email to the group ... a FAQ, if you will. Here's what happened; I don't know how long I'm in the brace; yes, I have to sleep in it; no, I'm not in pain, etc. By the end of the day, I decided not to send the email figuring it'd trigger more questions and possibly come off as rude. I also considered putting up a sign at my desk detailing what happened because I really didn't want to talk about it, but I got over that.
One thing that I can't come to terms with is that I got upset when some people showed sympathy. Not like my friends or coworkers, but random people. I feel like an ass, but I could seriously do without random person X saying, "Sorry about your neck," or whatever. I mean seriously. I've never met you. Are you really being sincere, or do you just feel obligated to say something since you're staring? People try to be nice but don't realize that they're not really helping. Note to readers: when someone's hurt, stares and comments like, "Boy, I bet that's uncomfortable," don't really help. If you have nothing to say, save us both the trouble and don't say anything. Don't feel the need to say something with the intent of showing sympathy but ends with you coming off as an ass, and the injured being reminded of his/her situation. Again, I feel like a jerk for thinking this way, but that's the way I feel. We were out for St. Paddy's day this weekend, and this one guy had an even bigger brace than me, and my friends were pointing him out to me. I'm assuming they thought that'd make me feel better in some way. Once I realized what they were pointing at, I averted my eyes and got mad at my friends. I've always been one to not make a big deal of such things, but I'm a little more cognizant of it now. I reminded them how shitty it feels when you catch someone staring. Surrounded by drunks, I had already dealt with a lot of ass-holey comments that night. This has been an eye-opening experience ... like those events where they get people to move around in wheelchairs to see how it feels.
So going back to that first week: I got used to the brace and the comments, and work was somewhat normal. I had avoided telling my parents knowing that they would worry,. But I was scolded by several people when they heard that I hadn't told them, so I called them Monday night. I must've sold it to them well because they were okay. I wanted to wait until I had more details Thursday, but that was too long to wait. That Thursday, I had my follow-up appointment. The more I talked to people, the more I realized how little I knew ... how long I'd have the brace? Would I be ready for ultimate at the end of March? Would I be able to board again this season? So I was eager to find out more and have a person to ask questions to. I had braced myself (no pun intended) for having the brace for about three weeks and kinda taking it easy for a couple of more weeks after. John Martin seemed to think that I might get the brace off at my follow-up.
The follow-up was bittersweet, however. The x-rays showed that I was healing nicely, and he wasn't too concerned about the injury itself. He said that had I never come to the hospital, I still probably would've healed fine, but the brace was just to ensure that it healed properly. He also said that I was told incorrectly and that there was no harm in turning my neck sideways and that I didn't need to wear the brace to sleep. The bad news was that I'd have to wear the brace for five more weeks and not have any hard physical activity for three months. So I was pretty upset about that. I was fine until I was driving back to work, and I couldn't stop crying. I guess I just wasn't ready to hear that, though I thought I was. I quickly calculated three months would be mid-May ... so no spring ultimate and no more boarding this season. I went back to work and emailed my ultimate team that I wouldn't be able to play. I tried to work, but couldn't focus. I took a walk around the building to calm down, but then just went to my boss to tell him I was pretty upset and that I was going home. I left without talking to anyone else and went to bed. My dodgeball team tried to get a hold of me to see if I was coming that night, but I was in no mood. I just turned off my phone and slept. After that, I've generally been fine. I called my parents to tell them the news, and I composed an email that night to all concerned friends/family with an update.
Wow, it's already been a month since the incident. There's still a little left to be told, though, so stay tuned.
I decide to go to my dodgeball game that night even though I couldn't play. I think the main reason I went was to start dealing with the questions and being in public with the brace. Unfortunately, we had a low turnout that day, so a lot of my friends weren't there. I consider going in to work on Friday because a lot of my friends at work were going to Vail for our annual lab ski trip so that's less I'd have to face, but I decide just to stay at home. I drive back to the hospital to get my x-rays for my appointment with the spine specialist later in the week. That was quite a scary experience not being able to turn my neck to check my blind spots or back up, and I decide that I should not be driving short of going to work and back (I'm pretty close to work, and I can take small roads without too much traffic). As news spread, all my friends were very generous with their offerings of help. I guess it didn't really all hit me until Saturday night when we went to go see a play. I was driving to Leon's place, and I'm not sure what happened. I just thought of everything I like doing, and how I fucked it all up by getting hurt. About what could have happened and what may still happen. I wiped my eyes and composed myself as I approached my friend's place.
Sunday, at the suggestion of D, I hosted an impromptu Oscar party. Surprisingly, my place was already pretty clean, but I managed to do the rest before everyone came. We had a pretty good turnout, and it was a fun time. I was surprised there was enough interest in the show and just hanging out that we never pulled out the boardgames that we had planned. And then came Monday ...
My first day back at work. I was eager to get back to work but was still not excited about dealing with the questions. I was also self-conscious about the brace though I had been out with it during the weekend. Monday was not good for me though. Just walking the halls to my desk was upsetting as I got the obligatory stares. I just sat at my desk and didn't want to leave. I wept for the second time as I just couldn't deal with everything. Cyndi and Shannon came by later to see how I was doing, and I couldn't even look them in the eye. I eventually returned to my normal self, more or less, by the end of the day, but there were still a lot of questions. Apparently, John and Leon had kept everything a little low-key at my behest. Unfortunately, this meant I had to deal with "What the heck happened to you?" and other random comments. I was a little curt at first to these comments. When I realized how few people knew of the details, I started composing an email to the group ... a FAQ, if you will. Here's what happened; I don't know how long I'm in the brace; yes, I have to sleep in it; no, I'm not in pain, etc. By the end of the day, I decided not to send the email figuring it'd trigger more questions and possibly come off as rude. I also considered putting up a sign at my desk detailing what happened because I really didn't want to talk about it, but I got over that.
One thing that I can't come to terms with is that I got upset when some people showed sympathy. Not like my friends or coworkers, but random people. I feel like an ass, but I could seriously do without random person X saying, "Sorry about your neck," or whatever. I mean seriously. I've never met you. Are you really being sincere, or do you just feel obligated to say something since you're staring? People try to be nice but don't realize that they're not really helping. Note to readers: when someone's hurt, stares and comments like, "Boy, I bet that's uncomfortable," don't really help. If you have nothing to say, save us both the trouble and don't say anything. Don't feel the need to say something with the intent of showing sympathy but ends with you coming off as an ass, and the injured being reminded of his/her situation. Again, I feel like a jerk for thinking this way, but that's the way I feel. We were out for St. Paddy's day this weekend, and this one guy had an even bigger brace than me, and my friends were pointing him out to me. I'm assuming they thought that'd make me feel better in some way. Once I realized what they were pointing at, I averted my eyes and got mad at my friends. I've always been one to not make a big deal of such things, but I'm a little more cognizant of it now. I reminded them how shitty it feels when you catch someone staring. Surrounded by drunks, I had already dealt with a lot of ass-holey comments that night. This has been an eye-opening experience ... like those events where they get people to move around in wheelchairs to see how it feels.
So going back to that first week: I got used to the brace and the comments, and work was somewhat normal. I had avoided telling my parents knowing that they would worry,. But I was scolded by several people when they heard that I hadn't told them, so I called them Monday night. I must've sold it to them well because they were okay. I wanted to wait until I had more details Thursday, but that was too long to wait. That Thursday, I had my follow-up appointment. The more I talked to people, the more I realized how little I knew ... how long I'd have the brace? Would I be ready for ultimate at the end of March? Would I be able to board again this season? So I was eager to find out more and have a person to ask questions to. I had braced myself (no pun intended) for having the brace for about three weeks and kinda taking it easy for a couple of more weeks after. John Martin seemed to think that I might get the brace off at my follow-up.
The follow-up was bittersweet, however. The x-rays showed that I was healing nicely, and he wasn't too concerned about the injury itself. He said that had I never come to the hospital, I still probably would've healed fine, but the brace was just to ensure that it healed properly. He also said that I was told incorrectly and that there was no harm in turning my neck sideways and that I didn't need to wear the brace to sleep. The bad news was that I'd have to wear the brace for five more weeks and not have any hard physical activity for three months. So I was pretty upset about that. I was fine until I was driving back to work, and I couldn't stop crying. I guess I just wasn't ready to hear that, though I thought I was. I quickly calculated three months would be mid-May ... so no spring ultimate and no more boarding this season. I went back to work and emailed my ultimate team that I wouldn't be able to play. I tried to work, but couldn't focus. I took a walk around the building to calm down, but then just went to my boss to tell him I was pretty upset and that I was going home. I left without talking to anyone else and went to bed. My dodgeball team tried to get a hold of me to see if I was coming that night, but I was in no mood. I just turned off my phone and slept. After that, I've generally been fine. I called my parents to tell them the news, and I composed an email that night to all concerned friends/family with an update.
Wow, it's already been a month since the incident. There's still a little left to be told, though, so stay tuned.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Isn't life great?
So I hurt myself snowboarding a couple of weeks ago. It was kinda bad ... but it could've been much worse. John Martin, Leon and I went to Echo Mountain after work on February 21. Leon and I had never been there, but were interested in checking it out. It's rather unique in that A) it's completely terrain park, B) it's the closest ski area to Denver, and C) it's open until 9pm. It just opened last year, and it's only $20 after 4pm on weekdays, so we went to check it out. I hadn't really done many jumps and stuff this year, so I was kinda eager to get back into that (at the end of last season, I was really getting into jumps). I've never been much of a half-pipe person, and I'm scared to death of rails. Leon's kind of a beginner, so he had a tough time, but still had fun. They're building this snowboardcross course that was pretty fun, but that was only open until the sun went down. So then we went over to the other side that was open.
John and I practiced doing 180s (it sounds cooler than it really was ... it was pretty pathetic actually) while Leon just tried to get used to getting a little air and landing. There were about 5 medium jumps that John and I kept taking along with some other stuff mixed in that we occasionally tried. There were literally 5 people other than us for a while, so the lines were non-existent. Even later, there were maybe 15 people on the mountain. Anyway, so we kept doing this over and over without much incident. We started conservative until we got used to the features. John had a couple of spills trying his skis on a box, but he was okay. Leon was determined to do a rail. For some reason, on one run, John and I both got a ton of air on this one jump, and we completely cleared the landing slope and landed on the flat part and kinda skid to a stop because of the impact. It was a really rough, hard landing, but we were okay ... more just curious how the heck that happened! So a couple of more passes later is when it happened. At this point, I had probably taken 20 jumps that day; the one I hurt myself on probably 4 times. So it's not like I didn't know what I was getting into.
There were 4 of the 5 jumps first. I don't remember if I did all 4 (I did on most passes). Then there was a small box which Leon fell on. For some reason, this time, I decided to try it (I'm not a fan of boxes, but I don't fear them like rails) and went on and off of it with no problem while Leon lay on the side. Then I immediately went on to the last jump which is slightly different from the others in that it's a table-top shape. I think there were some kids waiting to go, so I kinda felt like an ass, but I had the momentum and didn't really feel like stopping. I took the jump, and immediately knew that I had fucked up something because I was horizontal. This happened to me once before, and it's kinda surreal being in the air ... still going up! ... and just wondering how long before you land. This particular time, I was rolled back pretty far with my board in front of me (and maybe even slightly above me), so I was just hoping I'd land on my butt even though that would hurt like all hell. I wasn't so lucky and landed directly on my upper back (with my head curled forward otherwise that may have taken some of the impact). Again, I think I cleared the whole landing zone. There were some kids at the base (no doubt waiting for their friends) who immediately asked if I was okay. I couldn't respond because I had the wind knocked out of me and was kinda wondering when I'd start breathing again. Leon showed up and seemed to think I had a concussion and blacked out based on my response (he said I was moaning). I think I had just started breathing again when he showed up, so that may have been what he witnessed, although there was a chance that I blacked out for a few seconds (we're still not sure). I definitely remember landing and the immediate aftermath. John came and suggested that we move out of the way in case someone takes the jump so I slid down a little and then the ski patrol showed up. Apparently the lift operator had saw the fall and called them. I was just gonna get up after a bit and keep going, but the ski patrol people were a little more concerned. I wasn't really hurting except a little on my back ... considering I had just fell from 15+ feet directly on my back, but it wasn't anything terrible. I had my helmet, luckily, which I never go without.
The ski patrol folk asked me all these questions to make sure I was okay, and I was completely coherent. The thing that concerned them was that Leon thought I had blacked out. And according to them, considering I was wearing a helmet, I must've hit pretty hard to black out (which we're still not sure if I did). So they strapped me to a backboard and pulled me up to the lodge with a snowcat. I have to say that my back hurt more being on that board than when I just sitting there which seemed counterproductive. They were being very cautious with everything and made sure I had feeling in my extremities. I mentioned that my leg was a little tingly, as if it were falling asleep. I wanted to just leave, but they eventually convinced me to take an ambulance to the hospital just in case. They tried to take my blood and set me up with an IV while we waited for the ambulance, but I was dehydrated, so the IV didn't work, and the blood came really slow. Leon and John helped out in any way they could. They were awesome! We just talked and stuff while we waited. I also apologized to them for messing up the night to which of course they said not to worry about it. The ski patrol guys mentioned how a guy fell from like 40 feet earlier and had to get helicoptered to the hospital. Funny thing is that we saw that helicopter as we got to the park!
They took all my gear and followed the ambulance to the hospital in Lakewood. It was a pretty uncomfortable ride there, I have to say. I tried not to complain because I knew it was all precautionary, but not only was I still on that backboard, but my leg was falling asleep, and my head was hitting against the board which slowly became pretty painful. Ironic that my head and back were in more pain on the board than off of it since those were the areas of concern. It was rather weird having no idea where we were en route, and I tried to guess where we were based on the turns. I couldn't wait to get to the hospital so I could get off that damn board! I tried going to sleep but couldn't because of the discomfort. I talked with the ambulance guy for a bit, to take my mind off the discomfort. He said that they'd probably do some x-rays and then get me off the board. He was a pretty cool guy. Apparently, he used to ski patrol at Loveland. He later told me and the hospital crew some numbers on how many patrons Echo Mountain has had and how many ambulance calls they've had. I don't recall the percentage, but it was pretty high. No wonder they make you sign a waiver when you get there!
Finally at the hospital, I have to answer more of the same questions. They do some x-rays, and tell me I need to wait to get CT scans before I can get off the board. I'm parched at this point, but they tell me I can't have any water because of the CT scans. After some wait, they take me for my scans which were even more uncomfortable. I've had a CT scan before, and it's a pretty simple process. But this time, they made me raise my arms over my head which was not fun while in that little tube. And having an IV and all this other stuff hooked up to me made it a little scary to try to raise my arms. After that ordeal, I'm back in the ER, and they still will not give me water. At this point, I'm also getting very hungry since it's like 10 or 11pm, and I hadn't had dinner. And the back board is getting very old. I've never been that uncomfortable in my life. I was convinced that it was the doctor's goal to make this the most uncomfortable experience ever. I literally could not stop fidgeting. I've also never been that thirsty in my life. I finally see Leon and John when they come in. It was nice having some company as I literally lay there. But at the same time, I felt bad for them having to see me so fidgety. I bet that was quite uncomfortable for them to see, and I told them they could leave if they wanted to. After asking Leon to call a nurse because I'm dying of thirst, we finally find out that they don't want to give me any until they get the results from the CT to make sure I don't need surgery. Wonderful. Again, I realize they're just doing their job, so I try not to complain. Finally, they tell me they can wet my lips with a sponge, so they do that which was at least a little bit of a relief.
I think it's around 1am that they finally get the results. That's the problem with being in the ER but not being in that bad of shape; you're a low priority. So a doctor tells me I have a compression fracture in my T3 vertebra, and I won't need surgery. He says a spine specialist will come and give me more details. They take me off the backboard finally, and I was so relieved. I'd guess that my accident happened around 7:30pm, and it was after 1am before I got off of it. They give me some painkillers through the IV even though I'm not really in pain, and I remind them that I'm parched. They bring me a cup of ice to which I ask why they can't give me water now! The guy tells me, "Because if you drink water right now, I guarantee you'll throw up." He raises up the back of the bed so I can finally sit up, and I reply that I don't feel too good even without the water. The painkillers must not have agreed with me because I felt nauseous. And considering I was so thirsty and hungry, I knew that this was not going to be fun. He gave me a bucket and sure enough, I dry heaved for a bit, but then I was fine. He went to get some medicine for the nausea, but by then I was fine.
So a "physician's assistant" from the spine specialist's office comes about an hour later and explains the injury in more detail. It sounds pretty bad to me, but he says that he's not worried about the fracture, and that it will heal fine. He's more concerned about a disc moving and contacting the spinal cord. He says to come back in a week and to wear a brace in the meantime and says I can go home if I want to ... which at this point sounds wonderful. Then they tell me that they don't have the brace that I need so that'll be another hour or hour and a half. Hooray. I tell John to go home, and thank both of them for staying with me for this long (it was a work night after all). Leon stays because he did have my car. We're all starving, so Leon goes to the cafeteria to get some food. I stay in the room eating my ice and listening to the other patients coming into the ER, several of which were causing scenes. I was embarrassed by association with them. A nurse comes by every now and then to see if I'm okay (they seemed overly eager to give me pain meds ... one guy said, "You're in the ER; there's no reason to be in pain.") I assured him that I was okay, but asked him to shut the door as my fellow ER-mates were kinda getting to me. I also asked if they could remove my IV and pressure bands so that I could get the heck out of there once the guy came with the brace, but they said they couldn't in case he didn't show up, and I needed to stay the night. Yay, these guys really cover their bases. I also talk to one of the nurses/doctors and tell him that I appreciate everything they did even though I may have been complaining. He says it's unfortunate when you're in the ER but are generally okay because everything goes slower. I call up Shelan because at some point a doctor told me to make sure I'm not alone tonight since there was the chance of a head injury ... in case I go unconscious. So I wake him up and tell him that I'll probably crash on his couch, though I'm not sure how he's to tell if I'm unconscious. I tell him I'll be there around 2am; I don't get there till 3:30. Leon comes back eventually with a dry sandwich for him and a banana for me which I didn't eat.
We're both falling asleep when the brace guy finally comes. He smells of smoke. He gets me fitted with the brace and explains to me everything I need to know about it. How to remove it, how to wash it, replacement pads ... oh yea, this is one serious brace. I ask him what the point of it is, and he says it's to prevent me from turning my head. This guy is no doctor, and I'm aware of it, but at this point this is all I have to go off of. So for the next week, I don't turn my head. I get my IVs and stuff out, and he leaves. I grab my stuff so I can leave, and the ER guys have to do some paperwork before I leave. They give me a prescription for Percocet (which I never filled), and I ask them a few more questions. Do I need to wear it to sleep? Yes. He says to have sponge baths which I ignore because I recall someone previously saying I could take it off to bathe. It was very weird not having someone to ask questions to, because these were just ER guys. They didn't know and just needed to make sure I was okay. The specialist guy is long gone. So here it is, around 2:30am, and we finally go. They never did give me water.
We get back to town around 3am, and Leon goes to pick up his car as I assure him, I'll be okay to drive the 3 miles to my house. With it being so late, luckily no one's on the road so I make it home just fine. I grab a sleeping bag, leave a message with my boss to tell him I won't be in and crash on Shelan's floor. More to come ...
John and I practiced doing 180s (it sounds cooler than it really was ... it was pretty pathetic actually) while Leon just tried to get used to getting a little air and landing. There were about 5 medium jumps that John and I kept taking along with some other stuff mixed in that we occasionally tried. There were literally 5 people other than us for a while, so the lines were non-existent. Even later, there were maybe 15 people on the mountain. Anyway, so we kept doing this over and over without much incident. We started conservative until we got used to the features. John had a couple of spills trying his skis on a box, but he was okay. Leon was determined to do a rail. For some reason, on one run, John and I both got a ton of air on this one jump, and we completely cleared the landing slope and landed on the flat part and kinda skid to a stop because of the impact. It was a really rough, hard landing, but we were okay ... more just curious how the heck that happened! So a couple of more passes later is when it happened. At this point, I had probably taken 20 jumps that day; the one I hurt myself on probably 4 times. So it's not like I didn't know what I was getting into.
There were 4 of the 5 jumps first. I don't remember if I did all 4 (I did on most passes). Then there was a small box which Leon fell on. For some reason, this time, I decided to try it (I'm not a fan of boxes, but I don't fear them like rails) and went on and off of it with no problem while Leon lay on the side. Then I immediately went on to the last jump which is slightly different from the others in that it's a table-top shape. I think there were some kids waiting to go, so I kinda felt like an ass, but I had the momentum and didn't really feel like stopping. I took the jump, and immediately knew that I had fucked up something because I was horizontal. This happened to me once before, and it's kinda surreal being in the air ... still going up! ... and just wondering how long before you land. This particular time, I was rolled back pretty far with my board in front of me (and maybe even slightly above me), so I was just hoping I'd land on my butt even though that would hurt like all hell. I wasn't so lucky and landed directly on my upper back (with my head curled forward otherwise that may have taken some of the impact). Again, I think I cleared the whole landing zone. There were some kids at the base (no doubt waiting for their friends) who immediately asked if I was okay. I couldn't respond because I had the wind knocked out of me and was kinda wondering when I'd start breathing again. Leon showed up and seemed to think I had a concussion and blacked out based on my response (he said I was moaning). I think I had just started breathing again when he showed up, so that may have been what he witnessed, although there was a chance that I blacked out for a few seconds (we're still not sure). I definitely remember landing and the immediate aftermath. John came and suggested that we move out of the way in case someone takes the jump so I slid down a little and then the ski patrol showed up. Apparently the lift operator had saw the fall and called them. I was just gonna get up after a bit and keep going, but the ski patrol people were a little more concerned. I wasn't really hurting except a little on my back ... considering I had just fell from 15+ feet directly on my back, but it wasn't anything terrible. I had my helmet, luckily, which I never go without.
The ski patrol folk asked me all these questions to make sure I was okay, and I was completely coherent. The thing that concerned them was that Leon thought I had blacked out. And according to them, considering I was wearing a helmet, I must've hit pretty hard to black out (which we're still not sure if I did). So they strapped me to a backboard and pulled me up to the lodge with a snowcat. I have to say that my back hurt more being on that board than when I just sitting there which seemed counterproductive. They were being very cautious with everything and made sure I had feeling in my extremities. I mentioned that my leg was a little tingly, as if it were falling asleep. I wanted to just leave, but they eventually convinced me to take an ambulance to the hospital just in case. They tried to take my blood and set me up with an IV while we waited for the ambulance, but I was dehydrated, so the IV didn't work, and the blood came really slow. Leon and John helped out in any way they could. They were awesome! We just talked and stuff while we waited. I also apologized to them for messing up the night to which of course they said not to worry about it. The ski patrol guys mentioned how a guy fell from like 40 feet earlier and had to get helicoptered to the hospital. Funny thing is that we saw that helicopter as we got to the park!
They took all my gear and followed the ambulance to the hospital in Lakewood. It was a pretty uncomfortable ride there, I have to say. I tried not to complain because I knew it was all precautionary, but not only was I still on that backboard, but my leg was falling asleep, and my head was hitting against the board which slowly became pretty painful. Ironic that my head and back were in more pain on the board than off of it since those were the areas of concern. It was rather weird having no idea where we were en route, and I tried to guess where we were based on the turns. I couldn't wait to get to the hospital so I could get off that damn board! I tried going to sleep but couldn't because of the discomfort. I talked with the ambulance guy for a bit, to take my mind off the discomfort. He said that they'd probably do some x-rays and then get me off the board. He was a pretty cool guy. Apparently, he used to ski patrol at Loveland. He later told me and the hospital crew some numbers on how many patrons Echo Mountain has had and how many ambulance calls they've had. I don't recall the percentage, but it was pretty high. No wonder they make you sign a waiver when you get there!
Finally at the hospital, I have to answer more of the same questions. They do some x-rays, and tell me I need to wait to get CT scans before I can get off the board. I'm parched at this point, but they tell me I can't have any water because of the CT scans. After some wait, they take me for my scans which were even more uncomfortable. I've had a CT scan before, and it's a pretty simple process. But this time, they made me raise my arms over my head which was not fun while in that little tube. And having an IV and all this other stuff hooked up to me made it a little scary to try to raise my arms. After that ordeal, I'm back in the ER, and they still will not give me water. At this point, I'm also getting very hungry since it's like 10 or 11pm, and I hadn't had dinner. And the back board is getting very old. I've never been that uncomfortable in my life. I was convinced that it was the doctor's goal to make this the most uncomfortable experience ever. I literally could not stop fidgeting. I've also never been that thirsty in my life. I finally see Leon and John when they come in. It was nice having some company as I literally lay there. But at the same time, I felt bad for them having to see me so fidgety. I bet that was quite uncomfortable for them to see, and I told them they could leave if they wanted to. After asking Leon to call a nurse because I'm dying of thirst, we finally find out that they don't want to give me any until they get the results from the CT to make sure I don't need surgery. Wonderful. Again, I realize they're just doing their job, so I try not to complain. Finally, they tell me they can wet my lips with a sponge, so they do that which was at least a little bit of a relief.
I think it's around 1am that they finally get the results. That's the problem with being in the ER but not being in that bad of shape; you're a low priority. So a doctor tells me I have a compression fracture in my T3 vertebra, and I won't need surgery. He says a spine specialist will come and give me more details. They take me off the backboard finally, and I was so relieved. I'd guess that my accident happened around 7:30pm, and it was after 1am before I got off of it. They give me some painkillers through the IV even though I'm not really in pain, and I remind them that I'm parched. They bring me a cup of ice to which I ask why they can't give me water now! The guy tells me, "Because if you drink water right now, I guarantee you'll throw up." He raises up the back of the bed so I can finally sit up, and I reply that I don't feel too good even without the water. The painkillers must not have agreed with me because I felt nauseous. And considering I was so thirsty and hungry, I knew that this was not going to be fun. He gave me a bucket and sure enough, I dry heaved for a bit, but then I was fine. He went to get some medicine for the nausea, but by then I was fine.
So a "physician's assistant" from the spine specialist's office comes about an hour later and explains the injury in more detail. It sounds pretty bad to me, but he says that he's not worried about the fracture, and that it will heal fine. He's more concerned about a disc moving and contacting the spinal cord. He says to come back in a week and to wear a brace in the meantime and says I can go home if I want to ... which at this point sounds wonderful. Then they tell me that they don't have the brace that I need so that'll be another hour or hour and a half. Hooray. I tell John to go home, and thank both of them for staying with me for this long (it was a work night after all). Leon stays because he did have my car. We're all starving, so Leon goes to the cafeteria to get some food. I stay in the room eating my ice and listening to the other patients coming into the ER, several of which were causing scenes. I was embarrassed by association with them. A nurse comes by every now and then to see if I'm okay (they seemed overly eager to give me pain meds ... one guy said, "You're in the ER; there's no reason to be in pain.") I assured him that I was okay, but asked him to shut the door as my fellow ER-mates were kinda getting to me. I also asked if they could remove my IV and pressure bands so that I could get the heck out of there once the guy came with the brace, but they said they couldn't in case he didn't show up, and I needed to stay the night. Yay, these guys really cover their bases. I also talk to one of the nurses/doctors and tell him that I appreciate everything they did even though I may have been complaining. He says it's unfortunate when you're in the ER but are generally okay because everything goes slower. I call up Shelan because at some point a doctor told me to make sure I'm not alone tonight since there was the chance of a head injury ... in case I go unconscious. So I wake him up and tell him that I'll probably crash on his couch, though I'm not sure how he's to tell if I'm unconscious. I tell him I'll be there around 2am; I don't get there till 3:30. Leon comes back eventually with a dry sandwich for him and a banana for me which I didn't eat.
We're both falling asleep when the brace guy finally comes. He smells of smoke. He gets me fitted with the brace and explains to me everything I need to know about it. How to remove it, how to wash it, replacement pads ... oh yea, this is one serious brace. I ask him what the point of it is, and he says it's to prevent me from turning my head. This guy is no doctor, and I'm aware of it, but at this point this is all I have to go off of. So for the next week, I don't turn my head. I get my IVs and stuff out, and he leaves. I grab my stuff so I can leave, and the ER guys have to do some paperwork before I leave. They give me a prescription for Percocet (which I never filled), and I ask them a few more questions. Do I need to wear it to sleep? Yes. He says to have sponge baths which I ignore because I recall someone previously saying I could take it off to bathe. It was very weird not having someone to ask questions to, because these were just ER guys. They didn't know and just needed to make sure I was okay. The specialist guy is long gone. So here it is, around 2:30am, and we finally go. They never did give me water.
We get back to town around 3am, and Leon goes to pick up his car as I assure him, I'll be okay to drive the 3 miles to my house. With it being so late, luckily no one's on the road so I make it home just fine. I grab a sleeping bag, leave a message with my boss to tell him I won't be in and crash on Shelan's floor. More to come ...
Friday, February 16, 2007
Te Busque
Te busque de bajo de las piedras y no te-encontre
En la manana fria y en la noche te-busque
Hasta enloquecer
En la manana fria y en la noche te-busque
Hasta enloquecer
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Depressed
Somehow, life's not how I planned it to be ... or maybe the problem's
that I didn't plan it. I guess the old cliche is true: life ain't
easy.
that I didn't plan it. I guess the old cliche is true: life ain't
easy.
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