My wife, Monica, and I were building our own house. We were the designers and the workers, except for hiring a people to help with pouring concrete. We built and finished the basement first, and are living in it. In 2008, we started building the main floor. Monica injured her back in December of 2007. On July 23 off last year, she had surgery to relieve the pressure on the nerve. A Montana winter was quickly approaching, and I was trying to get the roof on before it snowed. I did not want to spend another winter shoveling snow out of a partially framed house.
On the morning of August 6, I was coming down the ladder from the scoffolding that I had built on the ceiling joist, when the bottom of the ladder slid out from under me. In less than the time it takes to say “Oh Shit,” I feel eight feet and landed on the subfloor. I was dazed, and it took a few seconds to orient myself. Once I collected my thoughts, I started a self-check. My vision was now OK, my arms were OK, I could move my fingers, no painful ribs, my right leg was OK, but I couldn’t move my left leg. Monica was home recovering from her back surgery, and called out to see if I was OK. I yelled back, that I had fell and was not OK.
Monica came running up to see what happened. I had landed on my side, and with her help roled on my back. When I looked at my left leg, it was obvious that the femur was broken just above the knee, as the knee was offset by a good three inches. I couldn’t see, but I could feel another break just below the hip. This couldn’t be happening. I only had seven months before I was on Medicare. I had to cancel my health insurance several years before, because a $500 premium was more than we could afford. With the economy in a down slide, I had only taught one class in eight months. We were barely scraping buy even though I had taken early retirement. Over the previous three years, I had submitted three applications for to VA Healthcare, and had been rejected twice. I had not gotten a response to the application that I mailed in April, so I had asked for a new one. It arrived the day before, and was laying on my desk, ready to be mailed.
While I was laying on the subfloor thinking about insurance, Monica called 911. An ambuluance was being sent from Joilet, which is about 19 miles away. They also requested the QRU (Quick Response Unit) from Roberts for more assistance. The Joilet ambulance made it to the house in about 35 minutes, with the Roberts QRU not far behind. No amount thanks can express my appreciation for these volunteers. The Joilet crew had also called St Vincents hospital for the helicopter, and it was on its way.
The EMTs went through the normal checks before putting me on the backboard. EMTs aren’t allowed to administer morphine, so we were waiting for the chopper to arrive with the nurses who could administer morphine. In the meantime, they had to prepare me for transport, which meant putting a splint on the leg. We all know the question, “what is the level of you pain on a scale of 1-10?” When they pulled my leg straight to put on the splint, with no pain killers, I experienced a new level 10. What used to be a 7 is now a 3. Once the leg was straight and in a splint, the pain wasn’t as bad.
The chopper arrived and landed in the field across from the house, about the time they had me tied down and ready to lift on a stretcher. The nurses started the morphine drip. Morphine doesn’t kill the pain, I just didn’t care about it. The trip down the steps and into the ambulance caused a few major twinges as the leg moved. In consultation with a Doctor in ER, it was decided that I should be flown back in the chopper, as the ambulance ride may cause additional damage to the muscle tissue. With a two breaks, the middle section of bone was just floating.
They did take me by ambulance for the 200 feet from the house to the chopper, as the field is a bit rough. Out of the ambulance and into the chopper. I will tell you right now, there is not a lot of room in a medivac chopper, especially since I weighed close to 250lbs. I don’t know how long the ride took, as the morphine had me in this wierd state. Great few of the sky. Once we arrived at St. Vincents, it was out of the chopper, into the elevator, and then into ER. After taking the X-Rays, it was off to surgery. I was a trauma 2 patient that sort of screwed up the operating room schedule for the evening. My wife arrived just as I was going to the surgery prep area. Whatever they gave me, I was out in a few minutes and did not wake until 11pm. Monica had to go home before I awoke, as she was still in recovery from her surgery. It is long 55 mile drive when you are hurting.
The five days in the hospital were a blur of visits from Doctors and nurses. I don’t remember ever getting to sleep more than two hours at a time. I do remember spotting a WAP (Wireless Access Point) just outside my room, so I asked Monica to bring me my laptop. I want to thank all my friends who visited me, and the staff of St. Vincents for their caring.
I remember the first question a nurse asked me, after I awoke from surgery, was do I want a morphine drip or Percocet. I didn’t want to get addicted to morphine. Besides, if I couldn’t manage the pain, morphine was an alternative. Percocet makes me sweat. I kept the fan on to dry me out. When I left the hospital, I asked the Doctor Wilson for something else, and was given a prescription for Loratab. I left the hospital late Tuesday, and on Friday I called the Doctor Wilson’s office and told them I couldn’t stand the disconnected feeling from Loratab, and was given permission for Tylenol. I spent the next two days in withdrawal from the drugs. I am glad I got of the crap.
After passing the I can hold down food test with a snack, the nurse gave me the “Menu.” From 7am to 7pm, I could order anything I wanted off the menu, as often as I wanted it. Having not eaten since the previous morning, I had a good breakfast. By lunch, I realized that the price of this menu freedom could be gaining a lot of weight. I decided, it was time to lose weight and not gain it. I actually lost a few pounds, while in the hospital. Since Monica also seeks a healthy diet, maintaing a weight lose program after being released was a lot easier.
I made sure the Doctors, nurses, PT and OT assistants knew that Monica was recovering from back surgery, and that I had to be able to move myself. I had to be able to get in and out of bed, go to the bathroom, and get around the house without assistance. Both the PT and OT people held to that goal, especially the OT team. They weren’t going to release me until I passed all their tests. It wasn’t easy but I survived all the tests by Monday, including getting in and out of a car. While the tests were excruciating, the reality of doing it every day was harder. I failed crutches 101, so I had to use a walker. My weight limit was – if there was an egg between my left foot and the floor, I couldn’t break the egg.
The trip home was long and hard on the leg, but it was sure great not to be in the hospital. What a household. Monica was still recovering from her surgery, and I was recovering from mine. I totally depended on her for the first week. By the last week in August, Monica was back to work half-time, and then full-time by the middle of September. Since we live 7 miles from the nearest town, I had to become independent as quickly as possible.
My first appointment with Dr. John Wilson was on August 17th, and I got to see the X-rays of my leg for the first time. I could see the breaks, the two rods, the screw, and the bone graft. Since they were digital images, I sure would like to have a copy. Dr. Wilson told me that I had one of the worst double breaks of the femur that he had seen. He upped the weight limit on the left leg to 50 lbs. Not much, but better than the previous limit. He also wanted to show what flexibility I could achieve, and almost defined a new 10 for pain. It was a long day, as Monica saw her doctor, then I saw Dr. Wilson, and then a break for three hours and my appointment for an ultrasound to check for blood clots, which there were none. Getting in and out of the car so many time made for a long, miserable day.
My days essentially consisted of PT three times a day, morning ham net, and working on the computer. I was essentially trapped in the house, except for a trip to WaLMart and Home Depot. I did send in my Va Healthcare application, and it was approved as of September 15. A little late to be of help, but at least I had some access to healthcare. Around the third week in September, I had my next, and last appointment, with Dr. Wilson. The breaks were looking better, everything looked good, and the bone graft was still in place. Dr. Wilson approved 100% weight on the leg, and I could use a cane. I just couldn’t walk without protection.
Monica and I celebated by going to WalMart to buy a cane, and then to Old Chicago for lunch. It took serveral weeks to transistion from the walker to the cane, but it was progress. By the time I had my initial appointment with my primary care physician at the VA Clinic in Billings on October 13, I was able to get into and drive my truck. Actually, getting in and out of the truck was easier than the car, as it has wider doors. The freedom to get around felt good. I still used the walker when I left the house, but the cane at home. By the end of October, I was almost exclusively using the cane.
My freedom took a turn for the worse on November 5, when I had my first appointment with Dr. Erpeling, the VA orthopedic surgeon. Somehow, I had broken the screw that held the rod to leg. Essentially, the last two threads on the screw were wedged in the rod, and the bone graft wasn’t there. The break was not healing, and I was back on the walker with a weight limit of 50% of my body weight. The water heater decided to die the day before Thanksgiving. Apparently, there was a class-action lawsuit over the problem, so Whirlpool sent me a free part with free shipping. Only problem, it wouldn’t arrive until Friday. It was hard, but I managed to fix the water heater, with help from Monica.
I was looking forward with trepidation to the December 3rd appointment with Dr. Erpeling. The X-rays showed that there was some sign of bone growth, and the bone graft was still missing. According to Dr. Erpeling, the broken screw would not have happen if Dr. Wilson had put in the second screw. As he said, “there is a reason for two holes in the rod.” The second screw is a safety. The result another month on the walker. My next appointment was January 7th. The weather didn’t cooperate that day, as it was -27 and snow. My diesel truck doesn’t start at that temperature, so I had to reschedule the appointment to January 21. Is it healing or am I headed back to surgery?
This has been a long miserable winter. With snow and ice, I am really tied to the house to avoid damaging my leg. I do not want to go through surgery again. Monica went home for the holidays to visit her kids, family, and see her aging mother. For financial reasons I was not able to go with her. It was the longest and lonliest 12 days in my life. I am ready for Spring.
Tags: broken leg, hospital, no insurance