My Year of Patience and Perspective

Complacency.  

Every good motorcyclist knows its danger, since a momentary lapse in attention to your surroundings can cost you your life. 

I’ve recently come to realize that avoiding complacency is also important in a broader sense.  We can’t assume that our lives will continue as they recently have been.  Just because life is currently a struggle, that doesn't mean it can’t get better.  And just because life may be going well, that doesn't mean the smooth sailing will continue.  Indeed, we may not even be able to do the same things a year from now that we can do today.  

That’s why we need to enjoy what we have, and keep working to make life better now.

In the Blink of an Eye

Teague

Cheri with Fleur

A little over a year ago, I was feeling pretty good about life.  My wife, Cheri 💕, and I had a beautiful home, with two dogs we love, as well as good friends.  I worked at an endlessly fascinating job in the company I founded, with people more like family than just co-workers, and we helped clients build and preserve their wealth, which is a tremendously satisfying endeavor.  

I also was continually contemplating where my next SCUBA diving (and underwater photography, my primary hobby/obsession) adventure might be.
  

In addition to all that, I owned my dream motorcycle (a BMW luxury sport-touring K1600GTL), which I really thought might be the last motorcycle I would ever need/own. 

I rode this bike to work anytime weather allowed.  And so it was that as I made the easy, relaxing ride home from work one beautiful sunny day last May, I was just enjoying the bike, the breeze in my face, and life in general.  As I neared home, I remember thinking I couldn't wait to see Cheri and the dogs. 

                          In the blink of an eye, that all changed.  😟

Now, a year and 9 surgeries later (5 major, 4 minor), I can look back on that day—and the months that followed—with some detachment and perspective.  I'm back at work full-time, able to do most things I could back then, and I'm even looking forward to diving again.  I certainly have a renewed appreciation for family and friends, and a new enthusiasm for life and the future.
  
A brush with death can do that.

Note: Several people suggested that I write a detailed account of (or even book about) this experience.  While this blog post is not a book, it is LONG. The first part is my description of events, interspersed with observations/thoughts about the past year. That is followed by an Appendix, which contains the real-time comments/observations I posted on Facebook as events unfolded.  Together, I hope it provides a sense of an "interesting" period in my life...

The "Event"
Above, I said “blink of an eye.”  
Two rapid blinks—less than a second—would be more accurate. 

As I approached the final intersection, a mere two blocks from home, that day, I was pleased to see that the light was green, and my lane (the right-hand of two Northbound lanes) was clear.  So I just held my speed—about 30 MPH (in a 35 MPH zone)—and continued through the intersection...or so I thought.
    30 MPH doesn't seem all that fast, but at 30 MPH, you cover 43 feet per second! 👀 

Unfortunately, some traffic engineer (there’s a special place in hell…😬) has chosen to direct the bulk of this street’s rush-hour traffic into the left lane, and a long line of stopped cars in that lane created a blind spot blocking my view of oncoming traffic.  Specifically, they blocked my view of a big SUV coming the other direction—and his view of me—as he turned left…DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ME. 😮

Blink #1 – I’m 10-15 feet from the intersection, and my brain registers the big gold front bumper of a pickup or SUV (I couldn’t tell which) suddenly appearing in front of me from behind the cars ahead on my left.  I immediately know that there’s no time to take evasive action (lay the bike down, swerve, etc.) to avoid hitting him. 😱

Blink #2 – As soon as I register the above, I did three things—roughly simultaneously:

1. Muttered “Crap!”  (seriously - I remember that).

2. Grabbed for both handlebar levers (clutch and front brake), and stomped on the right (rear brake) pedal, all too late, of course; the collision occurred before the bike’s ABS brakes even had a chance to engage.

3. Braced for the collision I knew was coming. 😰

Like Skiing Again
A number of people have asked if I remember the actual collision.  I do, because (thankfully) my head/brain wasn’t hurt, and I remained conscious the entire time. 

fThe best way to explain it is with an analogy, one with which anyone who has ever water-skied or snow-skied can relate.  Recall the feeling you had when you were skiing full-speed and fell (even if that happened many years ago)?  There is a point at which you realize there’s no chance of regaining your balance; you are going to fall.  Remember how, as you fell, you knew roughly what was about to happen (flip, tumble, roll...), and all you could do was relax, close your eyes and let the tumbling pass—trusting that you’d be OK when you came to rest, and you could get back up and ski some more? 

Those few seconds of zen-like “I’m falling now” sensation are what I experienced during the crash (minus getting back up afterwards).  As the brick-wall impact threw me forward into my gas tank, and then off the bike and into the SUV as it continued from left to right, I remember an “Umph!” sound as all of the wind was knocked out of me.  Beyond that, I just closed my eyes and waited for the “tumbling” to be over.

There’s an old adage among motorcyclists: if you’re on two wheels and have an altercation with a four-wheeled vehicle, it doesn’t matter who’s in the right or who’s wrong—you lose. 😟  Let me just say, “Amen” to that.


Really, I’m Fine. 😀

When I came to rest, I was lying on my right side. I thought to myself, “Well, that wasn’t so bad.  I’ll be sore, but I think I can get up and walk the rest of the way home.” 😀 

In hindsight, that was nonsense, of course.  Looking back now, I realize that I was just in shock.   

I’ve been riding motorcycles since I was 14, and have never been in a street accident, let alone one involving a car.  As a teen, I spent a hundreds of hours riding mountain trails in Idaho, and I flew over the handlebars and tumbled through sagebrush on numerous occasions.  In my mind as I lay there, since I didn’t feel any great pain, I thought this might be just a variation on those trail-bike falls.

Fortunately, I was smart enough to realize that I might have real injuries, so I decided to stay put until someone official told me it was OK to get up. 

(As it turned out, that would be several months, not minutes, later.) 😩

So I remained completely still in the middle of the street.  Almost immediately, several concerned drivers came running over, and started asking me questions:  Are you OK?  Do you know your name?  Who’s the president?  What date is it?  Why aren’t you moving?  Can you move your feet?  

I knew they were only trying to help, so I answered each question, wiggled my feet for them, and assured them that I was fine; I was just remaining still in case something I couldn’t feel was wrong.

You’ll be happy to know, I’m sure, that although my bike was totaled, the SUV was barely damaged (I struck it right behind the engine compartment, which turns out to be one of the most unyielding places on a vehicle).  In fact the driver—who oddly visited me in the hospital a few days later— said he didn’t even see or feel me hit him; he just heard a grunt and a light “thud,” and thought perhaps someone had bumped into him from behind.  

To me, on the other hand, the effect was quite literally like hitting a brick wall. 

Soon the police and emergency vehicles arrived, and EMTs proceeded to ask many of the same questions, but were mainly focused on what hurt.  I reported that my left hand and left knee were sore, and that maybe I’d pulled a groin muscle, but that I really was fine, and would really appreciate a ride home.  Much to my chagrin, they insisted that rules required them to take me to the hospital to get fully checked out.  Although they said my neck seemed OK, they secured my head, strapped my body onto a board, and off we went.

As soon as I was in the vehicle, I asked an EMT if I could borrow her phone to call Cheri, since she was expecting me at home.  Not wanting to worry her, I explained that I’d had an accident on the bike at the corner nearby,  and I was headed to the hospital, but that I didn’t think anything serious was wrong.

I was whisked to Overlake Hospital in Bellevue—someplace I hope to never set foot in again 😬 (you’ll understand why momentarily).  The multi-trauma team there did a full-body examination, CT scan, X-Rays, and assorted other tests.  By then, things hurt more than they had at the accident scene (being strapped to a board didn’t help!).  My hand and knee were throbbing, my lower back ached, and my “torn groin muscle” was increasingly agonizing because, I soon found out, my prostate was torn in half and there was lots of internal bleeding (I needed a blood transfusion).  Thankfully, they put me on IV pain meds, and soon everything was dulled/muted.

Letting Go
Allow me to get philosophical for a moment.  From the outset, I was irritated at myself for the accident (despite the fact that the other driver is the one who failed to yield).  Maybe I should have seen him, or slowed down before going through the green light…maybe there was something I could/should have done to prevent the crash.  Even today, such thoughts pop into my mind from time to time. 

OTOH, I’ve always been a strong believer in two "world view" principles:

1)     Sometimes, "shit happens” regardless of what you do (and no, it's not always “for a reason”).  When it does, don’t waste time bemoaning what could/should have been; just deal with it and move on.

2)     Once something bad has happened, whether it was because you made mistake or bad (in hindsight) decision, or because life just dealt you a short hand (see “shit happens”), there’s no point dwelling on “what ifs."  The best you can do is try to learn from it, and move on.

Indeed, as I'm sure Cheri will attest, "deal with it and move on" is one of my mantras.  Thus, even in those first days/weeks after the accident, I tried to derail any "if only..." thoughts by reminding myself that the wreck had happened, and both of the above principles applied.  Until I could do something about it (rehab, etc.), I would just have to let the hospital experience, surgeries, etc. run their course. 


No, Really, I am Not Fine! 😬
That attitude was sorely tested the first six days I was in the Overlake intensive care unit (ICU).  Those six days were like torture.  The reason: the radiologist who interpreted my CT scan screwed up.  My chart (incorrectly) stated that my pelvis was not broken.

In reality, the CT scan clearly showed that my pelvis had blown apart--what’s called an “open book” break (torn completely apart in front, and also broken on one or both sides in back): 

I certainly understand why nurses rely on charts, and why they therefore assumed I was just being a wimp when I yelped every time they moved me (which was multiple times a day).  They kept pointing to the chart on the wall (you know - that 1-to-10, smiley-to-frowny face pain scale) and asking my pain level.  

"Smiley to frowny" scale

I responded that when I moved, the pain was between 8 and 12 on a scale of 1 to 10. The smallest movement caused excruciating pain, which was particularly surprising considering the morphine.  Over and over again, I described the butcher-knife stabbing pain at the base of my spine.  All I got in return was some variations of, “Well, the chart says there’s nothing wrong with your pelvis…”  

At some point, you would think one of the nurses—or doctors—would have grasped the disconnect between the chart and my pain, but for six days no one did.  In fact, within days, they were forcing me to sit up on the edge of the bed, and twice they actually made me stand up, putting all of my weight on the torn tissue around my disconnected pelvis 😱 (I’m sure the whole hospital heard those screams!).  

During my stays at Overlake, every day or two a new Overlake (or Group Health, which is next door) doctor would stop by and say he/she was my new doctor--a "hospitalist" (someone assigned to supposedly oversee all of my care).  They seemed to think that this gave them lots of power, but in reality, they were replaced within a few days by another one, and none of them performed any real service, as far as I could see.

Finally, on Day 6, my Proliance hand surgeon (of all people) actually listened.  Dr. Lohse, in fact, was the only doctor who stopped by several times to see how I was doing--not just my broken hand, but in general.  (Proliance is an independent group of surgeons that is not part of Overlake--Overlake is just one of the hospitals at which they operate.)  All three of my Proliance surgeons were fabulous.  

The pain I described just didn’t make sense to Dr. Lohse based on my chart, so he himself pulled up the CT scan on his laptop, and scrolled through it.  At one point, he stopped, wide-eyed, and said something definitely didn’t seem right.  😟  As you saw in the pictures of open-book pelvis breaks above, it wasn't right.

“I’m not a pelvic specialist,” he said, “but this doesn’t look right.  I’m calling my associate, who is a pelvic surgeon.”  Shortly thereafter, as should have been the case the first day, my chart was changed to bed-rest ONLY (no moving me whatsoever), and I was scheduled for pelvic surgery the next day.  

That was the first of four pelvic surgeries, and it involved installing a plate and 5 screws in the front of the pelvis and two big screws in back. 


I'd rather not C U
Let's talk about ICUs and surgery for a moment.

ICU = Sleep Deprivation

Besides that first week, I spent two other stints in ICU in the ensuing four months, and if you’ve never had the pleasure, trust me—ICU is not someplace you want to be. 😟 It is both loud and hectic, as a 24-hour parade of different nurses, technicians, etc. parade around your bed (which isn't in a room with closed doors, but is just secluded by curtains, which are usually open. The collective result of this is that it is nearly impossible to get any satisfying sleep!  There was one time in ICU when I slept for a whole hour (it was so shocking that I remember it!).  Other than that, every 20-30 minutes or so, someone new would come in to draw blood, give me pills/shots, ask me the same questions I had already answered six times that day, make me roll over (to prevent bed sores)—or worse—make me sit up.  If there was, by some miracle, a gap in the parade of people at my bedside, there would unfailingly be some loud commotion in the hall to awaken me as soon as I dozed off.

On the other hand, I’ve never had issues with surgery.  I’ve never had a reaction to anesthesia, and I figure if something needs to be repaired or removed, then let’s get 'er done; just give me pain meds after. 😉 My first major surgery was in 2009, when a good friend gave me a kidney (dubbed “Y3K”—Yates’ 3^rd Kidney), which was thankfully not injured in this accident.  The following year I had a lengthier surgery to remove my two native kidneys (which failed due to PKD - Polycycstic Kidney Disease).  Until this accident, those were the only major surgeries in my life.

Moving On

When I awoke from that first pelvic surgery on Day 8, I immediately noticed that there was dramatically less pain.  Apparently, having your pelvis held together really is better than having it loose and tearing the surrounding tissue with every movement! 😉  My general pain level dropped from 8-12 to only 3-5 on the frowny scale, and stayed there for remainder of the four months before I could go home. 

One thing I remember about that first week in ICU (besides the pain) was Cheri standing by my bedside at one point saying, “By the way, you’re done riding motorcycles.”  

It turns out that my BMW GTL was indeed the last motorcycle I'd ever need! 😉 

Despite the fact that I was heavily drugged at the time 😉, I agreed with her and I’m still OK with that decision.  I loved riding, but have enjoyed it for enough decades that I am at peace closing the book on that chapter of my life.  There are plenty of other things to do in life (diving, photography, yard work, etc.), and maybe Cheri and I can explore some new activities. 😊

A few days after that first pelvic surgery, they decided I should transfer out of ICU and go into a regular hospital/rehab facility.  Cheri scrambled to do research and drive around to visit several places, and settled on Snoqualmie Valley Hospital (SVH), a little hospital and rehab center in the mountains east of Bellevue.  So a half-hour's bumpy ambulance ride later, I found myself in a beautiful private room at SVH with a view of the Cascade Mountain landscape. 😀 

I have nothing but good things to say about SVH.  It's a beautiful place, with a wonderful, caring and conscientious staff—the opposite of my experience at Overlake.


One Hour at a Time
The entire four months I was “institutionalized” (in hospitals/rehab centers)—three months of which I was unable to even sit up—I got hundreds of calls, cards, and encouraging social media messages from friends, clients and family around the country (and world!).  They were truly heartwarming, and really helped keep my spirits up.  However, many also included comments along these lines: “Oh, that must be so terrible. I can’t imagine how hard it must be.  Aren’t you going stir crazy?” and so on.  In other words, empathizing with how rough it must be for me. I’d probably offer similar empathetic sentiments if someone I know went through that.  

Oddly enough, however, the truth is that I didn’t find the overall experience all that difficult. That's because I was able to maintain a pretty positive outlook—other than the few weeks I spent in ICU at Overlake (that period was terrible).  I definitely had some discouraging setbacks during those four months (and since then), but overall I think I've stayed positive about 98% of the time.

I think I’ve always been pretty good about looking ahead, not back (i.e., adhering to the two principles mentioned earlier).  I’ve also generally been a positive, optimistic person. 😊 Yes, I’m cynical about politicians (and government's ability to accomplish anything—don't get me started 😒), and I get irritated sometimes at people (e.g., drivers) who do stupid things, and I certainly feel sad when I myself have made a mistake or messed something up.  But otherwise I think I'm a pretty positive person.

First, it really helps to try to keep a sense of humor.  Life without humor isn't worth living. 

Second, I don't see how I could have made it through this experience without frequent visits by friends, family, and especially Cheri. 💕 (I truly believe this experience was harder on Cheri than it was for me; she not only had me to worry about, but all of the things at home, including everything I had handled in the past.) 


Imagine That!
Finally, for me it was crucial to have "mental images” on which to focus.  I was able to form in my mind, and hold onto, several images of my future self. 

One image was me just sitting at our back patio table, enjoying being there in the yard with Cheri and the dogs.

Another image was of me just walking along (no place in particular), without a cane or limp.  

That one was based on the long-term prognosis by my surgeons:

-         Hand surgeon: my hand/wrist (3 broken bones) would take months to heal after he operated on the three broken areas, and would always be stiff/sore and less flexible, but I’d have most of the use of the hand.

-         Knee surgeon: roughly the same for my left knee (torn ACL, MCL, PCL and Miniscus) with a good chance that after a year or so, I might even be able to walk without a limp. 

-         Pelvic surgeon: I will always have pain and arthritis in my pelvis, due not only to the initial damage caused in the accident, but the fact that all of the screws/plates tore out of the bone within two weeks of that first surgery, thereby damaging the pelvic bone even more.  However, he, too agreed that I’d eventually be able to walk again. And he saw no reason I couldn’t eventually SCUBA dive again! 😀🎉

On the railing photographing
 sharks in the Bahamas

Which leads me to the last mental picture I held onto--myself on a dive boat (somewhere tropical) with all of my dive gear and underwater camera...smiling...something like this.  

Any time I’d start to feel discouraged or think howww lonnggg I’d be stuck in the hospital or rehab, I just immediately forced myself to supplant those thoughts with one of those images of “future me.”  I’d tell myself, “You have to just get through the next hour, and the rest of today, and that picture will be a little closer.”  A person can endure almost anything for an hour, or even a day, whether it’s discomfort, pain, boredom, immobility, etc.  I can’t tell you how many times I repeated that mantra, “I just have to get through the next (hour/day/week/month)…”

Distractions

I also had numerous distractions to keep my mind occupied, so I was seldom bored.  As soon as I was out of ICU, Cheri brought me my laptop, iPad and iPhone.  Soon thereafter, she bought me a great bed-desk that fit over my waist and raised my laptop up to usable level, since I couldn't sit up.  On average over those four months, I spent about two hours a day “working” (emailing back and forth with my coworkers—about clients, management of the business, etc.).  I also had access to Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon video on my iPad, and apps for half a dozen TV channels, so I could watch TV shows or movies as much as I wanted.  (You really find out how much "crap" there is on TV, when you’re trying to fill the hours with it!) 😦

Thus, between visualizing my future self “healed,” and keeping my mind occupied as much as possible, when my mind "went there" toward discouraging thoughts, I was generally able to quickly steer it back to a more positive perspective.  And that's how I got through all of those days/weeks/months with only a few truly low emotional periods.  

My biggest setback was two weeks after the first pelvic surgery, when the pelvic surgeon announced that X-Rays showed that I’d torn all of the repair screws out of the bone.  It would take two to three extra months – and 3 more surgeries, and an external framework – to fix it. 😦 That was very discouraging, one of only two times during those four months that I remember being brought to tears. Thankfully, Cheri talked me through it, and I quickly got back on track.

I'll skip some of the ensuing weeks and months, because following some general thoughts and observations, you'll find an Appendix with my “real-time” Facebook posts (in chronological order) to help fill in the gaps. 

Now, A Year Later
As I write this, a year after the accident, more than anything else I feel fortunate.  I’m about 90% back to normal (at least what passes for my normal).  I’ve been back at work full-time for months now, and am even planning my first post-accident SCUBA diving trip.  I still hope to get as much from life as I can, for as long as I can, and I’m not planning to let this incident prevent that. 😊

My daily regimen is certainly different.  I set two alarms every morning – the regular one, and another alarm 60 minutes earlier, when I take a handful of pills (several to ease the stiffness/pain in my joints) and apply two heating pads, one to my left knee and the other to my lower back (pelvis).  The heating pads (and meds) loosen up those two primary injury points.  As long as I do that, and take a few more pills during the day, I don’t notice the stiffness/soreness too much in my knee, back and hand during the day.  If I take a few pain pills and lie down with the heating pads for an hour after work, I’m also generally OK for the evening.  I spend much more time in the back yard (I even put in a sprinkler system) than I used to, before the accident.  I’m (slowly) getting a little less sore each month.

That’s not to say I will have no lasting effects from the accident.  The doctors tell me that I’ll have arthritis pain in those areas for the rest of my life.  But, frankly, I’d undoubtedly have arthritis as I got older anyway; I'm just getting a head start! 😉

Besides, as much as I hate people saying, “It could have been worse,” the fact is that, if the accident had involved a slightly different angle, timing, size/shape of the SUV, or his/my speed, I could easily be paralyzed…or worse.  So I feel pretty darned lucky and blessed to be in the shape I’m in.

To Sue or Not to Sue
As I healed, and (after four months) was able to return home, one of the issues that Cheri and I had to face is whether or not to sue anyone—the driver of the SUV, Overlake Hospital, and/or the local municipalities who ignored previous warnings of unsafe conditions at the intersection where the crash occurred.  The latter two are still up in the air, but we already decided not to sue the SUV driver.

I dislike lawsuits—not just the frivolous ones we often hear about, but the idea of lawsuits in general makes me uncomfortable.  I’ve only ever been involved in one lawsuit (my business had to sue some departed employees), and it was one of the most stressful things I’ve ever experienced—sleepless nights, constant anxiety, etc. 😟 until it was finally settled.  I’d be perfectly happy never to be involved in another one.

I'm sure my attitude toward suing others is partially influenced by a family experience many years ago.  My father died suddenly while I was away at college; they thought he might have blood clots in his lungs, and while an intern was running a diagnostic catheter from his thigh up into his lung to check, he accidentally rammed the catheter it into his heart, and my dad died very shortly thereafter.  Awhile later, my siblings and I discussed with my mom whether she should sue the hospital (she obviously had a case).  But, although she had modest means, money was not the issue to her. I remember her saying three things:

1.     Suing wouldn’t bring dad back;

2.     She knew the mistake was unintentional; and

3.     She didn’t feel right potentially ruining the career of the young doctor who did it. 

My mom had as much charity in her heart as anyone I’ve ever known.

As bad luck would have it, the SUV driver (who was at fault) was grossly under-insured, so payment from his insurance company was very limited, as was payment under my own insurance company’s Underinsured Motorist coverage.  

Almost no insurance companies, including mine—State Farm—include in their motorcycle policies any liability coverage for other drivers, even if you have that coverage in your car policies. 

If we were going to get more, we would need to sue the driver personally.  According to our attorney, we could rightfully sue for most of his assets other than his home. 

Note: Make sure you have high liability limits on your own insurance AND an umbrella policy for at least $2 million. You might make a mistake someday like the fellow who illegally turned in front of me…

A little internet research showed that the SUV driver was divorced, had a young daughter, and wasn't wealthy by any means.  We didn’t have to think about it very long to decide that it didn’t seem right to potentially bankrupt him—and maybe make him unable to pay child support for his daughter—just to (maybe) get a few hundred thousand dollars.  Besides, as angry as I was at him initially, with time I realized  that he obviously didn’t wake up that morning deciding he was going to go out and try to run into a motorcyclist.  There’s a reason they call it an “accident.”

In the case of the hospital and municipalities, it’s much more a matter of principle.  They ought to be held to a certain level of responsibility for taking care of people, so I might end up enduring the stress of another lawsuit (or two) in coming months/years…but I’m certainly not looking forward to it.

Appendix: 
Real-time Comments From Facebook
The following (in chronological order) are comments drawn from posts I made on Facebook (and sent to friends and family) over the course of the first six months of this experience.

Jun 1, 2015
+1.5 weeks (after accident, roughly)

Some hard months ahead. 

Friends and Family,

I've been riding motorcycles since I was 14, enjoying thousands of hours in the saddle, both off-road and touring America's highways. I like to think I'm a pretty skilled rider. Unfortunately, that became moot in a split second when a SUV illegally turned right into me last week a few blocks from home.

The result was severe trauma—a destroyed pelvis and left knee, extensive internal bleeding and more—that kept me in ICU this past week. It'll take 2-3 months, and several more surgeries, before I can walk again, but by September, I expect to. Impact was at roughly 30mph; the surgeon said 5-10mph more and I likely wouldn't have survived.

As discouraging and life changing as this has already been, there is much for which to be thankful. I DID survive. Y3K (my pre-owned kidney) somehow came through unscathed. A good helmet spared my head/face/brain from injury. Cheri and I won't be riding bikes again, but should be able to do many other things (including, I surely hope, my underwater photography), mainly just enjoying and appreciating each other's company.

This post is mainly just to let you know the situation. I'll occasionally post updates, but won't be as active on FB for obvious reasons. Thanks for the support I've already felt from family, friends and colleagues.

Cherish every moment; it can all change in the blink of an eye. 

June 6
+2.5 weeks (post-accident, roughly)

10th day since my initial pelvis surgery (when plates and numerous big screws were inserted to realign/stabilize it). I'm expected to be able to stand/walk between Day 60-90. I am now in a private room in a nice new little rehab center/hospital that Cheri found, with wonderful staff, good food, and a beautiful view of the green Cascade Mountains.

It's still early, but I am making tiny bits of progress each day (the next goal is to sit in a wheelchair!). 🙂 I'm particularly happy that the pain meds have been reduced to the point where I'm clear-headed again. All in all, I'm quite positive about the outlook. 

June 20, 2015
+4 weeks

Life (and healing) doesn't always progress in straight lines.
It's been a few weeks since I posted an update re my accident. Around that time, I seemed to be making faster progress than anybody expected, I was even able to briefly sit in a wheelchair, and my pelvis seemed well on its way to healing, and without much pain.

Unfortunately, X-Rays showed the opposite. The screws and plates had failed (torn loose from the bone), requiring more complex surgery. 😡

It was a very discouraging setback.

First time I've ever had a
beard! I guess shaving just
hasn't been a top priority!

So it was back to ICU for 8 more days, and two more surgeries. I now have an external metallic framework [external fixator, or “ex-fix” for short] that is wired through my abdomen holding said pelvis together. This exoskeleton jabs and pinches my hips and thighs, and I can't even sit up, let alone hope to sit in a chair/wheelchair-- for at least 7-11 more weeks. It's uncomfortable, and really requires just enduring each hour and each day. My goal is to be on my feet with a solid pelvis sometime in September, and able to get down to serious rehab and physical therapy by the time the Seahawks season starts. 😉

Thankfully, Cheri has been amazing this whole time, and she helps me keep it all in perspective. It's a heavy load for her to bear, but I don't know how I'd make it without her.

One thing is for sure; I wasted that money getting approved for TSA "Pre-check" early boarding. With the amount of metal I'll be "wearing" (in my pelvis and knee), there's no way I'll be getting expedited boarding again anytime soon. 😉

June 25
+5 weeks

Ex-Fix on abdomen,
Seahawks "12" on new cast!

Today was a Good Day
Well, today I took the cabulance to see two of my three ortho surgeons (pelvic and knee), as well as get a bunch of X-ray updates. Headline story: the latest pelvic surgery (11 days ago) is thus far HOLDING perfectly! Still at least 6 weeks to go with this uncomfortable exo-skeleton on my abdomen, but you can’t believe how relieved I am at today’s news. Meanwhile, my wrist/hand (whose [three] broken bones - the least of my worries – are also healing as they should), got a new cast, and I decided to make a small fashion statement (Go SeaHawks!). 😄

If all continues to goes well, I will likely have another pelvis surgery AND the knee surgery (torn ACL, MCL, PCL, and miniscus) in about 6 weeks—all in one long surgery. 🙂

Thanks again for all your kind wishes, thoughts, and prayers. They seem to be working! 

July 9
+7 weeks

Great View and Diet, Too!

Today marks 25 days since my second pelvis surgery, during which a slightly-alien-looking “external fixation” (“Ex-Fix” for short) was installed OUTSIDE my abdomen, holding in place four cables through my abdomen to hold my pelvis in place until the bones heal. I then came to a great little rehab hospital in the Cascade Mountains, where I have one objective—to just heal.

In the ensuing weeks, I’ve done the functional equivalent of watching grass grow—waiting for bones to heal.  I’m stuck in bed (literally – I can’t get up, or even sit upright) until my pelvis surgeon decides it’s safe (i.e., my pelvis is strong enough) to try to stand/walk.  That’ll be 5-9 MORE weeks (if all goes well)...but that means I'm more than a quarter of the way there! 😄

At that point, I’ll have one big surgery to: (a) remove the Ex-Fix, and then the knee surgeon will tag-team in to (b) repair my knee’s torn ACL, MCL, PCL, and meniscus. I’ll then be able to start rehab in earnest, and hopefully will be walking again on my own in no time! I can't WAIT!

Meanwhile, a silver lining! As many of you know, I’ve discovered several unorthodox “diet” strategies over the years (e.g., Indonesian food poisoning, kidney transplant, Boston seafood poisoning, etc.).  I can now add to that list "Yates CRASH Diet" (get it? "Crash?"), aka multiple-trauma-surgeries-and-lengthy-hospital-stays diet! 😄 In the seven weeks since my accident, I’ve lost 26 pounds—pounds I really NEEDED to lose. Also pounds that won’t be stressing my pelvis and knee when I get back to walking in a few months! In fact, if I can lose another 12 lbs, I’ll be down to my goal weight!  Sadly, despite an exercise regimen I do in bed each day, I’m sure much of the weight I’ve lost is muscle, so I’m anxious to get out of bed and start building it back (WITHOUT the corresponding pounds)!

July 21
+9 weeks

Sunday marked 5 weeks since the “abdomen of steel” was installed - to hold my pelvis in place. I saw the surgeon yesterday, and apparently that 5 weeks has seen good progress. In fact, he plans to operate and tentatively remove this “Ex-Fix” (External Fixator) in just THREE more weeks, instead of the assumed seven! 😊

So get this! While I'm knocked out, he'll take the metal scaffolding off, and then (with live X-Ray) “stress” the four steel posts (i.e., yank them around) to see if my pelvis holds, or gives at all. If it holds, he’ll remove the posts and I’ll be done with this %@# thing!   If my pelvis shows weakness, OTOH, the scaffolding goes back on for another month (oh, please no, please no!). 

Either way, the knee surgeon will then tag-team in during that same surgery, and my knee will be bolted/screwed back together  with lots of replacement ligaments (from cadavers—apparently mine are too shredded to repair), so that I can start rehabbing it…and—if the Ex-Fix comes off—start concurrent rehab on my pelvis, too.

Everyone’s been warning me that simultaneous rehab for my knee, pelvis, and broken wrist will be a SERIOUS challenge—that it will make everything thus far seem easy by comparison.  So, while I’m lying in bed, I’m getting myself psyched up for lots of painful, hard work, starting a few weeks from now! 

That's right around the time the Seahawks start playing, so I'll just pretend I'm on IR (injured reserve)  😉 - no pain, no gain!

July 29
+10 weeks

After 6 weeks, my arm/hand cast finally came off today, and was replaced with this custom-molded removable one!   My ever-itching wrist is SO happy that I can take this new cast/brace off part of the time!  I also got the three metal pins in my broken pinky finger removed/yanked out (that's 5 cringe-worthy minutes I'll be forgetting ASAP!). 😄

More than that, though, this is the first time something has felt like the beginning-of-the-end of this ordeal that started 2 1/2 months ago.  Next up: THE big surgery (knee and pelvis) a week from next Monday (on Aug. 10th)! Then...rehab! Woo-hoo - can't wait! 😊 Keep those prayers and positive wishes; I appreciate them more than you know. 

Aug 9
+12 weeks

SHOWTIME!Well, today is exactly 8 (short?) weeks since this metal abomination attached itself to my abdomen (think the movie Alien). At O-dark-thirty tomorrow I leave for the big SURGERY to hopefully remove it, as well as do major knee reconstruction (ACL, MCL, PCL, and meniscus) on my left leg! Hooray!

MOVING ONI just discovered a few days ago that after the surgery (and a night or two in the hospital), I won't be returning here to Snoqualmie Valley Hospital - where I've spent 8 nice weeks vacationing in a spacious private room. Instead, for insurance-related reasons, I'll be moving to a rehab facility in Issaquah, WA.

The good news is that the new facility is 10 miles closer to home…and therefore for Cheri to drive. The bad news is that - at least initially - I'll be sharing a much smaller room with someone else.  Oh dear - will they be loud, obnoxious, smelly (or all of the above!)?  Nah, they'll probably be really nice, interesting, and considerate (maybe they’ll even have super-powers!), and we'll get along great. 😉

TAKE A LAP!Assuming that my Ex-Fix is indeed removed tomorrow (there's a slight chance it won't be), I'll be able to sit up, sit on the edge of the bed, and begin rehabbing by body in earnest! 😊

Having been flat on my back for 11 weeks now (ugh), I can tell by looking at my once-muscular calves that I've lost a LOT of muscle mass. It'll take many months to get it all back.  Meanwhile, no marathons for me! My goal is just to be walking (albeit with a walker or other support) by the end of August! 😊

Well gang, your prayers and positive thoughts/energy have gotten me this far, so keep 'em coming the next 24 hours, and I'll catch you on the flip side of this "procedure."  (I'll post an update Tuesday to let you all know how it went.)

Aug 10
Still +12 weeks

I CAN SIT UP! 😊
I'm just out of a 6-hr surgery, and pretty loopy on pain meds - dozing off every few seconds -but couldn't wait to share the news! It went well, and my knee got reconstructed, which is all fine ‘n’ good, but I'm more excited about the fact that there's ZERO metal protruding from my abdomen!  Boy, you really don't appreciate the little things in life, like being able to sit up, until you CAN'T do them!

More later (including rehab fun!), but wanted to let you know the surgery went well, and I'm one BIG step closer to getting on with life!

Aug 13
+13 weeks

3 days later, I'm still sitting up (making up for lost time!) 
Since my surgery Monday, I've turned an important page - from "mostly-an-annoying-metallic-pain-in-my-abdomen" Bruce…to…"can-stand-upright-for-30-seconds-but-it-hurts-like-HELL!" Bruce. 😉

Boredom replaced by pain...and surprising lightheadedness (how odd that 3 months of lying flat on my back made my body forget how to pump blood clear up to my noggin!). Anyway, the pain of a knee that got totally trashed and is just beginning to heal is oddly refreshing compared to the monotony of lying around waiting to get to this point. 

I don't expect to have much to report for a few weeks - I just need to gut through the PT and build back the muscle I've lost (if it's true that you lose 1% of muscle for each day of inactivity, my 90 days means...yikes).  Not many FB posts unless something surprising or interesting happens.  Thanks to all of you for your encouragement and help getting me to this point. Now it's my turn to do the work; I've got this. 

Aug 20
+13 weeks

40 yards in 4.40 secs - Seahawks rookie kick returner Tyler Lockett!

40 yards in 440 secs - my latest rehab walking (shuffling) milestone!

           Only difference - a few measly decimal places... 😉

Aug 30
+14 weeks

One Too Many Hospital Stays
My previous updates counted days since one of my four surgeries. Today, OTOH, marks 101 days since the original crash that caused all this medical mayhem. 

Since my last update, I've been working hard in rehab. Every day since my knee surgery (and removal of the external fixator), I've tried to do a little more, walk/shuffle a little farther, etc. In fact, last Tuesday I walked (with a walker) over 50 yards without pausing. It was so encouraging that, naturally, it was time for another setback!

Wednesday morning I was rushed to Swedish Hospital (my 4th separate hospital stay!) with a fever of 104. Sure enough, I'd somehow contracted a nasty sepsis (system-wide infection). I spent the next 24 hours fighting uncontrollable shivering and temperature fluctuations, while huge amounts of IV fluids with broad spectrum shock-and-awe antibiotics were pumped into my body. (My weight actually jumped more than 20 lbs in two short days from all that fluid!) 

Well, it seems to have worked, and I'm now back in the rehab center - sore, bloated, and exhausted, but ready to pick up tomorrow where I left off! I'll be taking horse-pill-sized antibiotics for awhile, but hopefully I'll only have lost a week of rehab progress. And let's face it; after 101 days, one extra week is hardly worth quibbling over! 😊

I still hope/expect to be walking pretty confidently in a few weeks, and able to move home. I still face months of outpatient rehab after that, but being at home will make that easy by comparison.

Again, my heartfelt thanks to all of you for your prayers and encouragement!

Aug 31
+14 weeks

Any day is brightened by a puppy visit. 😊 This is Mack, who belongs to Cheri's friend, Amanda.

Sep 11
+16 weeks

HOME AT LAST! 

Finally walking...with my
new wheels!

After four months in hospitals and rehab centers, I finally got to come home last night! I now get around well enough—with my "rollator" (fancy 4-wheeled walker) and a cane—that the PTs at Issaquah Nursing & Rehab felt I could safely live at home and just do outpatient physical therapy from now on. I had (for the most part) wonderful help from doctors and staff at those facilities, but there's simply—in the immortal words of the Bard (or was it Dorothy?)—no place like home! 😊

I was relieved to discover that Teague remembered me! I really missed the big galumph. I'm fairly certain he's happy I'm around.

Cheri, OTOH, has had four months to experience the advantages of NOT having me around (no messes, less laundry, no debating what to watch on TV, etc.). I'm just hoping that the positive aspects of having me home slightly outweigh the negatives! 😕

Looking ahead, I've still got months of painful PT to come, but the biggest thing is just walking/moving (more accurately HOBBLING), which I can do on my own around here. My hips/pelvis are still really stiff/sore, and my knee (which will remain in this brace for two more months) is VERY sore and awkward to walk on. I expect I'll need to walk with a cane for the foreseeable future (i.e., well into 2016).

But that's OK! I should be able to start going into the office soon, and if I work hard at the PT, I might even be able to go SCUBA diving/taking fish-pics again in late 2016.  Meanwhile, I can't tell you how much I'm already enjoying being back home with Cheri and the dogs. Life...is...good! 😊

Thanks again to the dozens of you who sent me cards, emails, and other messages of encouragement! They really lifted me up when I was down! 

Nov 28
+6 months

6-Month Gimp Update
(and a few photos in chronological order)

It has been a couple of months since I posted a progress report regarding my recovery from the traffic “accident” (aka motorcycle-SUV encounter) I had back in late May. Hard to believe that was 6 months ago! Time flies when you're.....well, whether you're having fun or not!  Anyway, several people have asked for updates, and Thanksgiving weekend seems like a good time for it, since I have so much for which to be thankful… 😊

At the time of my last posts, I had just had the last of four major surgeries on my pelvis and left leg, and was finally able to get on my feet again and begin rehab. Of course, being bed-bound for 3+ months left me with few muscles, so I’ve just been gradually building back muscle mass. 

I had to use a walker for over a month (see photo above), and then a cane, but I’m now able to walk limited amounts with neither, and only have a small knee brace!  😊

Because my left leg was the one injured, I’m able to drivej (vroom vroom!).  I'm noticing that I'm hyper-alert at every corner, but I guess that's to be expected...

The primary thing holding me back is now lower back pain, the result of three large screws that remain in my pelvis until January. I’m just hoping/praying that the pain goes away when they're removed.

Meanwhile, physical therapy is going well, and am heartened by my week-to-week progress. I’m back in the office a few days a week, and, with work I can do remotely via computer from home, life is increasingly getting back to normal (the “new normal”). 😊

SCUBA diving still isn’t in my immediate future – the surgeon wants me to wait a year after that my last pelvic surgery (August). But that’s OK; I’ve gotten quite good at being patient.  I’m going to start swimming again soon, and I’m already mulling over potential “easy” liveaboard dive trips to ease back into my underwater photography – perhaps places I’ve already been in the Caribbean, e.g., Turks and Caicos, Belize, or the Caymans (for the 6th time!), or maybe great white shark cage-diving off the coast of Mexico? 

As I’ve said before, I feel VERY fortunate. I should make a pretty full recovery (other than some residual creaks and aches in my hand, leg and pelvis). My physical therapist tells me that, by some point in 2016, I should be able to walk without even a limp. Considering the extent of my injuries, I think that’s pretty great! On top of that, in October I celebrated the 6th anniversary of Y3K (Yates' 3rd Kidney) by going to lunch with Sherry Robinson, Y3K's previous owner (photo)!  Much to be thankful for indeed! 😊

Again, I have been touched by the outpouring of concern and kind wishes I’ve received from so many of you. Thanks to those who visited me in the hospital(s), especially those who came to see me over and over, e.g., Luke G., Mel and Sherry Robinson, and my assistant, Andi. (They all brought ice cream, too!)   With all of that support and well-wishes from so many of you—family, my amazing colleagues at Appropriate Balance (photo), and my incredible wife, Cheri—I feel like I made it through this challenge. I really do feel blessed. 

Warmest wishes to you all for the Holidays!
2016 promises to be a wonderful year! 😊

Feb 21, 2016
+9 months

Staples and stiches and screws (oh my!)
A few weeks ago, I had the fifth (and final, hopefully!) major surgery associated my accident last May - to remove three big screws from the back of my pelvis (like in this picture, but with a third one on the other side). Then, last week, they removed the staples and sutures, and for the first time, I felt like the whole mess was finally behind me. 😊

I'm now back at work every day, and can even walk without a limp on good days. That's not to say there are no residual effects. I'm still awfully sore in the mornings and after work...even with drugs. But all things considered, I feel SO fortunate - to have such great friends, co-workers, doctors, and of course my wife, Cheri - not to mention getting my life back. 😊

I'm also fortunate because my surgeon says I can start diving again - anytime after August (a year after I was first allowed to stand up again). I'll probably start slow - in the Caribbean (Caymans? Turks and Caicos?). But it'll sure be great to be underwater, in the ocean with all its wonderful creatures... 😊

and one last one - out of order - just for fun...

July 30, 2015

(+2.5 months)

Someone suggested that I write a book about this "adventure" (motorcycle wreck, hospitals, surgeries, etc.).  I'm not planning to, but just for fun, any BOOK TITLE SUGGESTIONS? 😊

Answers:  

Adventures in Rebuilding?
Motorcycle Misadventures: An __Month Journey in Recovery and Rebuilding
Motorcycle Mayhem; Months in MEconstruction
Busted and Braced
Bruced, Busted and Braced
Help - I've fallen and I can't get up!
The three Hour Tour
Changed in the Blink of an Eye
Easy Rider to Tough Rehabber
The Uphill Road Starts at the Downhill Curve
All the King's Horses
OUCH!!!
Life is what's happening while you're busy making other plans?!!! 
Took a left when I shudda taken a right! 
Tough Road for a Weary Traveler 
Why you can never have too much insurance....
Shit happens and then----you don't die! Movie at seven.
That'll buff out
Bruce's Big Adventure - from road bump to hospital champ and beyond.
The transplant roundabout (almost)?
No Cages for Me
You never hear the SUV
A Day in the Life of Crash and Burn Yates
Damn That Hurt...
Iron Butt Busted Up
Yeah, that'll leave a mark.