My Motorcycle Injuries

My motorcycle accident caused the femur in my left leg to break into two pieces near the center. It's the strongest bone in the human body but yeah, it broke in half. That's a picture of it above👆. I went to see an orthopedic surgeon a year after the accident because I was feeling pain in the center of my thigh and I thought that perhaps the bone was still broken. He took an x-ray of my leg and informed me that the pain in my thigh was due to the fact that a piece of the bone had grown into the muscle while healing and that any kind of surgery was not practical. The pain in my thigh is usually infrequent and weak. The past few days have been an exception. I have been limping a little because of a pain in my thigh that doesn't want to go away yet. It feels as though I'm being stabbed with a very blunt instrument. Nothing like a knife, but rather like a wooden rod with a filed end. I had a little bit of trouble sleeping last night because I couldn't find a comfortabl...

Today is the 12th anniversary of my motorcycle accident. Ayup, right about now they were trying to figure out what to do with me in order to preserve my mortal existence. I have written before on this blog about my desire to donate blood because of the amount of blood that was required to keep me alive in the hospital so many years ago. Between a low iron count, thin veins, and slow flowing blood, I have only been able to donate blood one time over the years since the accident. I have tried countless times, but it has almost always ended in disappointment. Not today. For some reason it was set in my heart that I would try to donate blood today on the anniversary of the accident. I ate food rich in iron this morning and I went to the bloodbank after running a couple of errands early in the morning. My iron was really low on the first test, but they warmed up my thumb and I registered two points above the required number on the second test. When they set me up to actually donate it was n...

I've griped before on this blog about recurring pains and hinderances that come and go with my motorcycle accident injuries. It has all become a part of my "regular" life over the past years. I've been very much active physically these past several months and the things that I do are not hindered in such a big way by the things that my body has been making me feel. However, I do clearly notice that the pains and the soreness are becoming more consistent and pronounced with time. As much as I despise the thought of going to see a surgeon about it, there's a persistently nagging feeling in the back of my mind that tells me that a visit to a surgeon within the future is possible. My knee is getting worse and I'm not quite sure as to when it'll be bad enough to finally see someone concerning the need for a full replacement. There are negatives and positives in doing so, you know? It's sometimes difficult enough to deal with life's regular and recurring...

I went to my cardiologist yesterday for an annual checkup visit. He did the usual things with an EKG and a stethoscope. I like the guy enough, but I really see these visits as a waste of time and money...really. The reason that I'm obligated to go is that I have a stent in my aorta placed very close to the heart. It's due to an impact rupture from the motorcycle accident. Still, the visit was filled with questions about how I'm doing and feeling, so hey, it makes me feel as though I'm an important person. He scheduled me for a stress test because I've never taken one. He tried to do one several years ago but my insurance company denied the request. I have a different insurance company now, so we'll see if it actually happens in a few weeks. Otherwise, he says that I'm totally healthy. But, if I'm the epitome of great health and fitness, why the stress test? The world may never know. In the process of being set up for a stress test, I asked him if it invo...

 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 deternined 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 occured, 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 folowing 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 be...

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 unconcious 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 day...