My Motorcycle Injuries

Today was a little busy for me. I mentioned previously in a blog entry ( see here ) that I thought I had a new incisional hernia. It turns out that I do. I’m not certain that I can fully describe how much I hate that this has happened. It seems that every time I gain some ground on recovering my body from the aftereffects of my accident, it’s my body that actually takes itself back. I don’t mind progressing one step at a time; honest. I’ve been doing it for five years now. It’s just that every once in a while my body steals a bunch of those steps away from me and I’m stuck dealing with the need to gain it all back again. It’s like cleaning up after a flood and having the river rise again the next morning. Anyway, after having come to terms with the reality of this latest accident related thrill, I told my wife this morning about the hernia. She was unhappy with me for not telling her sooner, and there was no way for me to properly explain to her what it took for me to come to ...

I’ve mentioned before that I walk a lot during the day. My minimum distance within any given day is five miles (11,400 steps). I don’t walk outside much because I’m always alone and a little paranoid that something will happen with my leg and I won’t be able to get help without calling 911. This week I’ve got the first round of babysitting duties with my new niece. She’s five weeks old and about as cute as a baby can get. I say it’s the first round because I have her this week, then I’ll get her for about a month six weeks from now, and then I’ll probably be taking care of her full-time by mid-August. It requires a lot of energy and work, but being with a baby has its own rewards beyond the labor. I’m really growing quite fond of her. One of the things that I do with her involves walking the path that I take within my house in order to achieve the proper steps each day. Part of that path always involves a trek that stretches from my family room to the center hallway in my house. It’s a...

I told my wife once that a part of me died as a result of the accident and she freaked out a little. Here’s the thing; it seems at times as though a part of me never made it past lying on the side of the road at the accident sight…just a part of me. It’s kind of hard to verbalize, but I’m giving it a shot here. Something inside of me died that day that I can’t seem to get back fully. It was a part of me that subconsciously believed that I would always be OK. It was a part of me that always believed that I was greater than the potential for absolute catastrophe. It was a part of me that continued to see each day with an absolutely care-free attitude that never acknowledged my physical well-being or anything that my body could ever be subjected to. It was a part of me that could commit to any physical activity without hindrance or limit.  Days are different now in how I live them out and in how I look to the future. My life’s days used to involve waking, doing, and finishing. They st...

My life has been going really well. I admit that fact with a great degree of appreciation and joy. But…it’s my body that’s just kind of chugging along. Some days are fairly ordinary, according to the post-accident definition of ordinary, but other days bring about problems with body parts that require a more concentrated effort. It all comes and goes with time, and every day is seemingly quite different from the previous. I’ve grown very much accustomed to having a problem with a body part that exhibits itself one day and fades away the next. I remember a time in my life when having a certain pain or injury within any given day really meant something. It was almost like a grand event to be proclaimed in the ears of anyone who would listen. Now, not so much. Pain, discomfort, and physical hindrance have just become the norm. A slice of life served up daily without planning or provocation. Yeah, drudgery.

Odd thoughts today. First, I had someone picking my brain at length concerning diabetes. He also shared some of his thoughts on it all. I have to be honest in saying that I grow tired of conversing about diabetes. I write about it here because this blog allows me the opportunity to talk about things related to my accident injuries on my terms. I can say what I want to say and then be done with it. Conversations with others, however, grow tiresome. I get sick of having my life be about being sick. Does that make sense? Second, I had someone at church who is an RN tell me that he had a conversation with another medical professional about my ruptured aorta. Apparently the two of them discussed it to some length and concluded that I should be dead. He spoke about it very passionately, as though he wanted to make certain that I understood the severity of it all. He went on to describe to me exactly what happens inside of someone’s body when they suffer a ruptured aorta near the heart. In es...

  The Good So…I had an appointment with my endocrinologist yesterday morning. I had a blood test done last week and I received the results yesterday. All of my numbers are good. A1C, cholesterol, triglycerides, etc.; it’s all good. My current A1C is 5.7, which is a pretty snazzy number for a diabetic. I’ve worked really hard over the past couple of years with the whole diet and exercise thing, so yeah, felicitations are in order. My doctor said that he is switching me to a six month appointment plan instead of the four month schedule that I’ve been following for the past couple of years. His office involves a half hour drive one-way, so I’m really glad to have the appointment schedule changed. I’ll be saving on time, endless blood samples, gas money, and insurance deductibles…uh huh, celebration time. I really hate being diabetic, and it’s a drag that I got this disease because of damage done to my body in the accident. Still, good news is good news, right? The Bad I have very rece...

Years ago my wife and I took a short cruise that made a stop in Nassau, Bahamas. We were there for about half the day and spent the time meandering and checking out the sights. At one point we walked along the beach and enjoyed the beauty of the ocean and the waves beating along the shore. There was this man and his wife on the beach and he was in the process of renting a personal water craft (you know, Wave Runner/Jet Ski). He had a fairly serious physical disability with his arms that made it more difficult to operate the machine, but he hopped on and started to maneuver the thing in circles at an unsafe speed while shouting with excitement. His wife stood at the water’s edge attempting to get him to stop being careless. She looked as though she was very nervous and scared, but I also got the feeling that she had been through this type of thing before. I got the distinct impression that her husband spent a great deal of time attempting to prove to himself and the world around him tha...