My Motorcycle Injuries

 I've established a routine during weekday mornings in which I get some things ready for my wife and my daughter while they prepare to leave for work. It's just simple things, but it helps to make their mornings a little smoother. Yesterday morning I was getting things ready for them when I stepped on a very small amount of water on the floor in my kitchen. My "accident leg" isn't strong enough to handle things like that when I'm slipping in just the right way, and I went down faster than a dork on a first date. My hands were full so my hip took the full brunt of the landing. The pain was so intense that I initially thought that I had broken it. After a few minutes I stood up and determined to go on with the morning's duties despite some very severe pain. I cleaned the floor, packed the car, drove my wife to work, did some yardwork at the church property, and got dressed at home in order to speak at a graveside funeral service for a church member who died ...

I've told the story before on this blog, but my motorcycle accident occurred, in part, because my car was not running well and I chose to take my bike to get a haircut. A few days before the accident I had gone to a mechanic to have some work done on my car. On that day I took a backpack full of books in order to work on a sermon while waiting for the repair. A short time after getting settled I was told that the repair couldn't be finished until the following day, so I shoved everything into the backpack and trekked my way back home on foot. It involved several miles of walking, but no biggie.  A few months after the accident I started to think about that little journey that I had taken just a few days before the accident and I sadly thought to myself that I would never be able to do something like that again. I was pretty much convinced that my body was so heavily damaged that I was finished with any kind of walking that involved longer distances. Well...I have for years now ...

My daughter told me a story about myself the other day. It involved my time in the hospital years ago, just after I had become more coherent. The guy in charge of the church services during my absence was in the hospital room and I apparently told him that I was certain that I would be ready to take charge of the worship services on the upcoming Sunday. At the time I had been kept unconscious for over a week and I had been put through roughly a dozen surgeries. I was physically unable to get out of bed for any reason and I was unable to function physically in any practical way. I could barely speak coherently because my mind was in a drug induced haze and my jaw was wired shut. My daughter said that he gave me a quiet "alright" sort of answer and things moved on. I was obviously not in my right mind, but part of the problem must have stemmed from the fact that I never really think that I'm down for the count in anything that I do. I checked with that same guy the other da...

I had the annual CT scan required to check the stent in my chest a few weeks ago. They called me a week later to let me know that there are no leaks and no movements involved with my stent and that my aorta won't be killing me this year (well, I added that last part). Yup, I am the poster child for stability when it comes to internal chest bleeding. I'll be back to the endocrinologist in a few weeks for blood work, an office visit, and a sonogram. It becomes a little frustrating as I continue to pay one copayment and deductible after another with all of the medical people involved with my healthcare. I sometimes feel as though I'm being taken advantage of by going through procedures and visits that cost the providers very little, but affect my personal budget in a big way. To be truthful, I'd drop every one of them if it wasn't for my desire to make my wife happy. She would freak out if I didn't continue to deal with all of the medical things that I've been ...

I bashed one of my toes today on the metal flashing at the floor of my front door entrance. I was barefooted, so my toes were fully exposed. Today's mishap involved the leg that was injured in the accident. That leg sometimes doesn't lift as high as it should when I'm taking steps. The floor on the inside of my house is a couple of inches higher than the ground outside at the entrance, so it's a slight lift to get inside. This same problem with my leg sometimes causes me to stumble a little when I'm walking on flat ground. My one leg is weaker than the other and it sometimes causes me to experience hindrances with my mobility. When it first happened this morning I thought, "ouch", but then I began to notice that it hurt far more than usual. When I looked down I noticed that my toe was bleeding. It's all fine now, but the Band-Aid and slight pain serve to remind me that I need to be more careful with each step that I take. Can you imagine? Walking is su...

This past week I had an appointment with my endocrinologist. 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 unpleasant 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...