Mmmmmm... Breakfast

Medicate, medicate, medicate!!

Freedom

There's about 60 seperate reasons about this picture that are "Bon".
First of all it may not seem obvious to all but the location of this is greater than 500 meters of the nearest hospital, which means to those who don't know I've extricated myself from the hospital. Permanently. Yep, 2 1/2 months and they've willingly released my ass. Thats a good thing. My doctor and the hospital has given me probationary leave, meaning they've released me to my parents place. 20 days until I turn 30, nothing like living with my parents again. As usual they have been nothing more than amazing during this whole thing, even after scaring the $#%# out of them for 29 years. Seen as I have about 2 appointments a week and 6 different doctors and Phyisio's to see in Canmore and Calgary heading back to Squamish isn't really in the books for the next while, thankfully my house is renting out with minimal complications, which is unusual.

As you can see as well my truck landed back in the Can. Fresh from sitting in Squam and from Utah where a bought it back in October. I've never been a motorhead, but needless to say I'm pretty psyched on this thing even though I'm having trouble climbing into the cab and the biggest crux of the day is even managing to get down the 10 degree slope needed access the door. Don't tell anyone but I'm not supposed to be driving, I say I've never been more prepared, most people drive with one arm, and most with one leg. Most of all I've been sitting and on my back so long being strapped into the seat is as familiar as snuggling up to my favorite foothills gurnee. I figure I'll make my way back into the club. I'm human again, I can get around, stumble my way into houses and clinics under my own power. Ahh the silver bullet, good to have it back. By the way it's for sale.

You may not notice from the pixilation but there is a shimmering and fresh disabled parking tag hanging from the rearview. I had a dream. A quick comment, Canmore needs a more disabled parking, I spent all of friday driving around and managed to find all four. You'll find me hanging out in front of Safeway and Rusticana for the next 2 months.

The high grade ergonomic walker rental is my constant companion, I'm managing to hop around with my right leg, meaning the pelvis and sacrum break is pretty well healed, although it doesn't necessarily feel like that when I wake up in the morning. The tibia shattered break is taking it time, which isn't uncommon. Most people would use crutches but the arm situ negates the use of them, therefore I get to practice being a geriatric for the while. And last to note is the yellow flagging, kind of like a reflector so when I'm crossing the street I'm visible to oncoming traffic.

Onto more serious things, many of you have been wondering how the past week has gone as I've been in touch with two peripheral nerve specialists both brought in to give there opinion on whether or not they think they can get my arm running properly again. Since leaving the hospital and trying to get back into a some what normal existence having my arm back would be nice. This may seem weird but its almost harder the more normal things become because the difficulties really begin to present themselves, for example it takes me about 10 minutes to do a zipper up. Just annoying. It'd be nice to climb again, even if it was 5.9.

Monday I met with Dr.Midha. Strong with the peripheral nerve force Midha is, possibly the most Yoda'ish in Canada. His synopsis was a minor brachial plexus stretch and a major traction injury to the muscularcutaneous nerve which works the bicep. This better news from what I was originally hearing but more importantly solidified my beliefs on the subject. Rule number 86, take great heed to what YOU may think the issue is when dealing with medical issues. You live with the condition.
Basically if nothing improves by beggining of May then he wants to dip in with the scalpal. Anything can happen from there as it could mean a whole variety of htings to simple diagnostic tests or nerve transfers. Basically the use of my arm is still up in the air, and more waiting, patiently, without a real diagnosis...
The second specialist basically reiterated the first which I appreciated, but I'm still considering going to see a specialist in the States and selling the house in Squam. Seems like a reasonable trade. I've been referred also to a sports Physiarist, not really sure what a Physiatrist does but I believe more heads the better.

So, I'm at my parents place for the next ? how long, working on the computer, coding (By the way for those of you in Vancouver, www.vancouver-traffic.com is up and running) and hanging out with "bob" the dog and hanging out. Feel free to drop by.

Specialist #1 Verdict

Opinion: Minor Brachial plexus injury, major injury to Muscularcutaneous nerve (bicep nerve). Go under the knife early May and conduct either nerve transfer or nerve graft.
The prognosis for either is up in the air but better than what was initially thought with having a major brachial plexus injury.
Basically this is good news.
I'm heading to another specialist in the same field manyana.
I'll write more in a couple days when I have some more time.

Thanks again to all those who have given me support.
Geisler, your the king for bringing my truck back from the coast

Arm Atrophy

I'm surfing an upswing in psych at the present moment. I've got alot material wafting around in the noggin right now, this little typing session is gonna be one of those deals where I race to solidify random incoherent thoughts on the keyboard before they dissipate.
So, I'll get to recent activities and how the game is rolling out of late first.

This morning I conjured up some cahones and got myself into Calgary so a hand specialist named Magda could fit me for a new hand splint which uses elastic finger straps to extend the fingers into a neutral position. Since I can flex (grasp) but not open the hand the splint takes care of this end of the bargain.
Basically it gives me the ability to hoan in on graspable object and hold them voluntarily.



Praise the lord, now I have some sort of signature again! Up until now the left utensil has been subbing in for any dictoral written tasks. You know, things like trying to print ones name or fill out an application for disabled parking tags.
Even my signature was giving old lefty trouble,if you havent seen my "mark" before it happens to be essentially nothing more than a glorified 'X'. Old lefty has been doing good work for me but I'll never bring him in again for any secretarial tasks subsequent.

Another big note is I've managed to get an appointment with Canada's supposed best Brachial Plexus specialist in Calgary. March 3rd, another day of reckoning. The arrival of this`has doubled my effort for gathering research and coming up with an interview template. To me this hardly anything like a consult, this is a bilateral job interview. One side of the job application is gettin the surgeon applying for the opportunity to potentially work on this poor excuse for a body. The other is myself connvincing this doc if he ever starts rummaging around poking and proding essential Bender elements to yield an element of respect and motivation to produce his best effort. If there is a patient heirarchy, I want to be at the front. My job is to try and convince this guy that I deserve his upmost attention. On the other side this is the most important job application I'll probably have to assess. Best to be prepared. I feel like I'm trying to absorb a whole education of brachial plexus specialty in a matter of weeks. Better triple my efforts.

The best thing to happen today though was a surprise visit from my lady who rolled in from the West coast. I didnt have a sniff she was arriving.

Still no movement in the biceps.

The other day I weighed myself here for the first time since I don't know when. My standard weight since my 18th bday has between 185-190lbs. Apart from a trip to Pakistan a year and half ago where I lost 20lbs due to burning ten thousand calories a day from climbing large Karakoram peaks combined with a base camp cook who refused to cleanse his left hand. You do the nutritional/intestinal math. Nothing a sushi platter for eight couldn't solve when I got home...
Apart from Pakistan its pretty much impossible for me to either gain or lose poundage. Before leaving for a trip to Logan one year I trained by eating 2 litres of ice cream a day and stayed sedintary by watching the full series of Star Trek the next Generation for a month straight. I gained 3/4 of a pound.
I stay the same weight usually no matter what the circumstance.
Anyway this thursday was an eye opener. Able stand on one leg I rolled onto the scale a cool 162lbs.
YEESH!
The dietician rolled in about 2 hours later.
She prescribed FAT, and lots of it.

One Arm Bandito

Don't have alot to say tonight. I've been battling all day putting things together and implementing the plan. This whole sheisen-show has been completely overwhelming. Today I was hammering it and really stoked for a bunch of reasons

I didnt have to throw a tanty to get into the Physio room

I was amped to find this message board and website dedicated to people who have Traumatic Brachial plexus injuries. Hundreds of people dealing with the exact same issues and creating solutions for themselves and others.
Message Board

Standing on right leg, pelvis feels great

I managed to hold this one pound weight in my injured arm hand



Why do they always have to make the smallest weight pink...

Set goal for Mexico beach action begining of May. Marylene and I are going to use my EI cheques. All inclusive me and my girl one arm banditing tranquillo style.

Last of all, got my application all set for disabled driver tag, looking forward to abusing that right one day

I've added a link to this site for those of you are interested more in this type of injury, many of you have been asking just what the dillio is so I thought I'd throw this down
Brachial Plexus Data

Escape from Alcatraz

There's an old Scottish guy who frequents the hospital acute care hallways in a wheelchair. There are lots of people in this hospital but just like everywhere else there's a few that stick out. What makes this guy interesting is that he's highly, highly motivated to get out of this place. This of course I have great deal of respect for but Jimmy (what I refer to him as because I don’t know his name yet) takes it upon himself to leave at will usually around midnight into -30C and nowhere to go but the Georgetown Inn all of this in his wheelchair, a gown and a incorrectly strapped on prosthetic leg. Now Jimmy’s an old guy but I also think there's something going on with his head. I'm not sure if he hit it at some point or what but the point being he's not all there. Which by the way is the worst type of injury any human can have, I'd take losing my arm over that any day. Jimmy is usually caught fairly quickly when he fly’s the coop usually because his attempts are impulsive and ill planned. Over the past couple months I've had a couple conversations with him. They're usually one sided with Jimmy explaining to me how impossible it is to escape. At this point Jimmy has attempted to extricate so many times that the staff simply just confiscate his prosthetic leg and besides the times when he gets really riled up this usually keeps him at bay.
To be honest these exchanges between the two of us didn’t really register. Jimmy had his shit going on and I had mine. That is until this morning.

Yesterday was a really tough day for me, one of the toughest I've had. The morning started off with my doctor dropping the bomb that I should start getting used to the idea that I'll have but one functional arm for the rest of my existence, he offered me a councillor to speak to, tapped me on the shoulder and left to see his next patient. That kind of shit is heart breaking, I shed a couple self indulgent tears picked myself up and then wheeled myself to Physio to drop the hammer the best I can to sort this out. Dropping the hammer physically is how I've always sorted life’s jabs out, I learned that young. Frustration builds over time and yesterday it was piling on. Everything was and is up in the air, thoughts of never being able to climb again or work again at my job. Basic things like having to relearn write with my left hand and the list goes on. To top it off the thing about hospitals is that you have absolutely no privacy and when you have over bearing all knowing roommates the frustration builds even more. Next on the list, I find out my appointment with the Neurosurgeon is booked 6 weeks from now leaving me of course to be "patient" because nerves take time. By the time 7pm rolled around I was ready to hit the Physio gym again to pull a couple 1lb deltoid lifts to burn some steam off. My friend Ken had just shown up and I wheeled down towards the gym with him. To make a long story short the hospital staff locked me out of the Physio room saying it was against regulation for patient to be there on there own, and hence denying a caged animal any brief interlude of solace.

The logic hence forth was very clear to me.
Time to get the #%$%* out this place! I'd had enough, of it all. I let out a blood curdling howl of frustration and proceeded to commandeer ken to help me bust out. Ken whom is a free animal with very much the same characteristics was immediately a wing man ready to help get me out no matter what the cost. He knew the cage was eating me alive. I collected a jacket and my expensive kit and wheeled past the nurse’s desk at a low mach, to fast for any encumbered pill carrying nurse to catch me flying by.
Good riddance.
To make a long story short I tweaked my broken leg obtaining a little piece of freedom but I made it to my parents house a human being again. Hallelujah!
A word to the wise, parents don’t like when you break out of hospitals and almost re-injure broken limbs. I managed to convince them that I would be ok staying the night and that I would give myself up in the morning. One night of freedom was like climbing the Chief that night.
The next morning I wheeled myself back towards my cell passing Jimmy on my right. At the moment I understood Jimmy and his plight. I hung my head low as I wheeled by him, another escape foiled. Back to my cell for another industrial hospital breakfast...

This story is in no way disrespect against the nursing staff of the Canmore hospital, they have been nothing but amazing to me.

The Update

Its been close to 2 months now and the battle rages on the arm regeneration front. I won't get into great detail, but there has been no improvement as far as feeling or movement which is disheartening. At the moment I'm trying to muscle my way into getting an appointment with Periphary nerve specialist in Calgary so I can one on one with him over treatment ideas. I've been educating myself with vigilance. My day is consumed with stretching, natural medicinals, physio and occupational therapy, strength exercises and wading through medical journals which hopefully will direct this sheisen show back to a normal arm. The fact of the matter is nerves take years to heal, so naturally we arent going to see anything anytime soon. This is the ultimate enduro battle.
Besides that I'm still in the hospital suckling at the proverbial "Teet" of the health care system. I enjoy testing the health care system in my own special way.



So sweet it is. Here I and my friend Bob are using the lengthy hallways of the hospital to perfect wheel chair dog-sledding.
"Watch out sir you may fall and break a hip!"
"Already have lady, I got nothing to lose!"
Occasionally though you may be covertly attacked unbeknowest in your sleep. Like this for example...



If I catch the girl who did this...