Not everything in life is as pleasant as Gina. Life has a way of balancing out the scales, and Halloween, 1997, they got balanced in a big way. I shouldn't have to worry about any further balancing from here on in.. (wry smile).
We were driving peacefully along early in the evening (unimpaired I might add), Gina, her two kids and me. I was driving. We were done trick or treating and had decided to stop and visit Gina's dad. Somehow an argument developed between my car and an approaching semi. This led to harsh words and finally to physical confrontation. Needless to say the semi won the battle decisively. My car was history, served it right, and I was in desperate need of a body shop! My left kneecap was shattered in about six pieces. My left ankle was broken, heel split in two and the toes broken as well. It is a miracle that Gina and the girls escaped with only minor bumps and bruises and some sore ribs. Thank god, I could not have lived with myself had they been the ones seriously injured.
I don't remember the impact at all, not a single glimpse, but I remember everything after that. I never for one moment thought I was going to die, although the gash and dent in my forehead caused others to wonder. I heard one of the emergency crew say they could see my foot was broken and asked me if I was hurt anywhere else. I ran my left hand up my leg and when I came to my knee, which was now on the side of my leg, I told them "my knee is all messed up". All the way to the hospital I was almost crying with relief that Gina and the girls were ok. I thought about how inconvenient and painful it was going to be for a while until I was back to normal again.
It is now seven months and five operations later, and the reality of the situation is starting to settle in. I cannot bend my leg past 90 degrees and, more importantly, I can't straighten it all the way. It seems impossible, but I may have to accept the fact that I will never walk normally again. I realize that my basketball and monkey bar climbing (with Gina's girls) days are over, but to walk with a limp for the rest of my life? I am still not ready to accept that. We'll see.
I could never have imagined what the past seven months have been like. But I know they would have been infinitely worse without the people who have stood by me.
I wish everyone in pain could have an in home nurse like Gina. She has done everything for me. For the first couple of months she worked her full time job selling fine jewelry at Meyer Jewelers as well as her full time job raising two young children. After this she spent every night sleeping in the chair next to my hospital bed (set up in the living room) in case I needed anything during the night. I guess not all angels are in heaven.
Then there was Dee! She is a long time friend and we worked together at the family business. She worked her hours at the laundromat and then she pitched in and worked some of mine. After that she would come over to my house and cook my dinner, take care of my dog, do the dishes, and anything else that needed doing. Both these special women would run my errands, take me to the doctor and later to therapy four times a week. If you ever get too down on the human race just remember these two examples of what people are striving to become.
My dad, Ron, has quietly stood by me through all this. Always ready with a ride, or to pick up a prescription, or just to get me out of the house and take me to lunch. He doesn't show his affection, never has, but he demonstrates it every time he cancels his golf game when you need to go to therapy, or works a shift at the laundromat at seventy seven years old without a word of protest.
I have had other help and inspiration these past months as well. It started with Tessa! An in home therapist from South Africa. She was encouraging and gently demanding and I miss her. She was transferred to another city. Then there was Debbie, the absolute ruler of the therapy pool. She can brighten your day with the twinkle in her in eye and the playfulness in her smile. I don't work with Debbie much now that I am out of the pool and on land, but I still get the gift of her smile from time to time. Which brings us to Evan, an Aussie with a more serious nature but with a heart as big as the outback. He grows on you, and he cares! Don't give up on me Evan, we'll beat this thing yet. I am very lucky my path led me to these wonderful people.
If you are experiencing a similar disaster in your life and need to talk to someone who understands, please, let me hear from you. I know what your going through. I always chuckle when someone says to me. "I don't know how you do it, I could never go through what you have, I just couldn't do it." Are you chuckling? We know the truth don't we! We couldn't do it either!! But we have no choice, we have to do it. It's amazing how brave you can be when your only alternative is to jump off a building or something! So hold on to your sense of humor. I know sometimes you feel terribly lonely and you feel like howling at the moon with despair (hence the logo of this page), but it will pass. Reach out to those good people who care and are willing to listen and help. Please, if I can be one of them I hope you will not hesitate, e-mail me at: 
Thanks!!
I guess it's about time for an update. It has now been almost nine months since my life has been turned upside down. I still can't walk by any normal definition. I can do ten minutes on the treadmill before the pain in my foot gets too much and I have to stop. Then I can put almost no weight on the foot the rest of that day. My leg still is 15 degrees from being able to straighten out. I am making progress, but an inch at a time.
I want to say that I realize how lucky I am. There are so many others much worse off than I am. I am still alive and in one piece and that in itself makes me lucky. The most difficult part of all this isn't the injury, although that is frustrating and painful and seems to never end, it is the aloneness and isolation! It didn't take long to make the discovery that my friends were not my friends after all. I never hear from or see them, they don't want to be reminded of what could happen to them. Once in a while one will ask (in e-mail) how are you doing? You quickly learn this is a rhetorical question and the answer is supposed to be, "fine, coming along." The last thing they want to hear is an honest answer to the question. So I get the big blow off. It's amazing how shallow people can be. Almost anyone I have talked to who is in my position tells the same story. They can't do the things they used to be able to do and suddenly they have no friends.
Gina spends as much time with me as she can, and we go to the movies occasionally, that's about all I can do, but I spend an average of 21 hours a day completely alone. I may talk to someone other than Gina 3 or 4 times a week but even then it is usually my dad wanting to know what time I have to be at therapy. I have no car, it was totaled in the crash, and if I did what would I do with it. I can't play golf, or go to the zoo with Gina and the kids, or to the amusement park, I can't stay on my feet long enough. No, it is not the injury itself that is the most difficult to deal with. It is the feeling that you are no longer part of the world, you are no longer needed, no longer wanted, and in some cases no longer even tolerated!
Some of the feedback I have received as a result of my last update makes it clear that another update is needed. Sometimes I think I forget that other people will be reading this and that some of them are actually concerned about the person behind the words.
It didn't occur to me how negative and hopeless the last paragraph of the previous update sounded. Others have noticed however and have brought it to my attention. It sounds as if I were considering that swan dive off the tall building referred to earlier. I am not! I have much to live for. I have the love of a beautiful and caring woman, Gina, her kids even tolerate me if I am good. I have my dad who is always there when I need him and I have a surprising number of people right here who inspire and encourage me everyday.
A few positive things have happened since the last update. I have been increasing my exercise program steadily with good results. I can now spend up to a half hour on my feet before the pain says sit down. My leg is still 15 degrees from straight, not good if walking is your goal, but I can now bend it to 105 degrees. So if I raise the seat on my bike as high as it will go I can. . . just. . . barely . . .get the pedals all the way around! So I have been able to get out and ride quite a bit lately. When you see me riding my bike you can't tell there's anything wrong with me. I don't know why that matters, but it's kinda cool anyway!
For the first time since the accident I have a car! Freedom! It's nice to be able to go when I please and not have to ask someone to drive me. But the best thing that has happened was last Saturday. I went to the practice range and hit balls for the first time. It went much better than I thought it would. I practiced for about an hour and hit it pretty well. I can't transfer my weight to my left side like I used to so I am about a club shorter than I was this time last summer, but I can play! I have a date with my dad to tee it up next Monday, a date that will live in infamy!! I have to ride a cart but what the hell. I'll let you know how badly I played and how many clubs ended up in the lake. Just kidding! I stopped that sort of thing years ago. So you see, I have no interest in that tall building whatsoever. I do have an interest in telling you all something however. I thank all of you who have followed my story and helped me through these difficult times. I feel certain you have no idea how much your interest and your words mean to me. Never doubt it. . . . . . . . .You do make a difference!
