My Motorcycle Injuries

This past week I had an appointment with my endochronologist. He has my blood tested every three months and then has me sit in his examination room while he stares at his computer and comments on the results of the bloodwork. I grow tired of the routine, but it makes my wife happy because she's always concerned about my health as it relates to the aftereffects of the accident injuries. I think that diabetes is the most annoying and unpleasent result that was created by the accident. It controls so many aspects of my life that it's hard to keep track.  The blood test involves about thirty different things that include glucose, kidney function, heart health, and a bunch of things that have to be Googled in order to know what they are. I always have to donate between 5-6 vials of blood along with a container of urine. Yeah, fun stuff. This time around my numbers were particularly good and he told me that it was going to be a quick appointment because I'm a good patient. It...

There was a period of time after the accident when I felt the need to prove things to the world around me. I sought to establish my victory over all of the adversity and physical setbacks that I was facing. I worked hard to conquer the injuries from my motorcycle accident and always measured each day according to my progress. Unfortunately, I thought that I had to prove to the people around me that I was someone who had overcome the beating that I took with the accident, so I would talk to them about how well I was doing and how fit I had become. Over time, I learned something. What I learned was that I didn't need to prove anything. Not to anyone, and not to myself. I know who I am, what I'm capable of doing, and what it takes to find a sense of satisfaction within my own heart. I once felt that I needed to prove something, but I was wrong. The only thing that I need to prove involves the ability to live life with or without physical progress. I have moved forward with my life...

I gave a member of our church some advice a while ago. He's several years older than me and he's had some issues with his health over the past couple of years. We were talking about exercising and he mentioned that he was trying to do some push ups but he could barely do one. I gave him a suggestion involving a technique that I learned in physical therapy eleven years ago. One of my therapists taught me to do push ups on a kitchen counter. She taught me to lean on the counter at an angle with my arms stretched out and to push up and down away from the counter. My arm and leg were not healed enough or fit enough to do real push ups on the floor at that time, and the counter method helped me greatly as I sought to strengthen my upper body. This friend of mine at church was really happy to hear my advice and determined to give it a try. This past Sunday he told me that the counter method helped him greatly and that he had now moved up to doing regular push ups on the floor. I thin...

I have sometimes written on this blog about my inability to sleep well. It's been going on for eleven years now, so no biggie. The latest thing, however, invloves discomfort. Yeah, physical inquietude of the body, that's what it is. I have always just laid there staring out, but now I just can't seem to get my body to rest in a comfortable, pain-free way. I have to change my position several times in order to find the proper physical arrangement that grants limited pain and maximum relaxation. It didn't used to be this way. In the past I couldn't sleep, but it was just because...I couldn't fall asleep. Now, I have to spend my time finding a good position in order to optimize the potential for sleep. A "no need to focus on your bod" orientation, if you will. When I wake up in the night, I have to shift things around again in order to stand a chance for further sleep. Tiring? You betcha! Frustrating? Uh-huh... The aftereffects of the motorcycle accident ...

I used to know someone who was in her 80's, and she would tell doctors that she had lived in her body for "x" amount of years, and that she knew her body. She would say this to various medical professionals whenever she felt that they were wrong in their assessement of her condition. This lady was almost always right. She always knew what she was feeling and was able to tell when there was something wrong.  I personally don't always understand the things that the medical community hands to me as a diagnosis when it comes to my health in relation to the various aftereffects of the motorcycle accident. Machines, equipment, and blood tests help doctors to tell me that everything is alright, but my body often tells me that something isn't right. I experience certain pains and noticeable weakness within my hip, knee, and arm that keep signaling to me that there's a problem within, but everyone keeps telling me that I'm fine. One day it all feels OK, and then on...

I fell a couple of weeks ago. I was unloading some things into the garage from the trunk of my car, but it had been raining and I slipped on the garage floor. My one leg is neither strong nor stable enough to hold me up when something like this happens and I went down like a broken elevator. I could have landed in several different ways, but me and fate decided to land on my bad knee while attempting to break the fall by also landing on my bad hand. Yes, life is a cornucopia of exciting and wonderful events. I just noticed this morning that the pains associated with this little tidbit of fun have finally gone away. There's still pain at each location, but only the regular stuff. The potential to fall has always been one of my greater concerns since the motorcycle accident occured years ago. It has happened to me a few times over the years, but the thing is that I'm learning to fear it less as time marches on. I know that a fall can lead to some serious damage, but it's just...

Overcoming physical trauma is a tough job. Those of us who are fortunate enough to recieve medical attention are given great help toward survival and recovery. Those of us fortunate enough to take part in physical and/or occupational rehabilitation are doubly blessed. Unfortunately, these resources don't often last forever. Such was the case with my recovery from the motorcycle accident. I was basically expelled from the hospital when they realized that I didn't have a lot of financial resources to cover the medical care. I then received rehabilitation help for a couple of months before the insurance coverage ran out. What was left of me was someone who had made a good deal of progress in my recovery, but not nearly in a position to function normally or freely. I couldn't walk well yet, and my overall mobility and physical function was very much limited.  One of the things that I learned when I wound up alone at home for the bulk of each workday was that I had to take charg...