Health

What happened to me on August 16, 2005, changed my outlook on my personal health forever. My friend Matt was having a going away party. I arrived early with some Jagermeister and a six pack of Heineken. I would say we all had about three shots and two beers. It was starting to be a fun night, especially because my friend had a trampoline set up in the backyard. We had fun for a while just jumping on it doing back flips and jumping really high. But with the alcohol and the inhibitions that may let go when one becomes a little drunk, we were kind of wondering what else can be done with this piece of backyard fun. The boredom was really staring to set in. I noticed that there was a tree that hung over the trampoline. About twenty feet directly above the trampoline there was a branch that looked like it could hold my 180 pound body. So the dares started. First, it was, “let’s see who can jump off of the tree halfway up, onto the trampoline.” This was easily accomplished by more than one person. But for someone that liked to push the limits. I was constantly visualizing myself dropping from twenty feet above, from the branch. It was a dare that no one around would do, except for me and my drunk self. Slowly I started to climb the tree. This was very dangerous, because if I fell before reaching the spot that was directly over the trampoline I could be severely injured and possibly break my arm on a branch. I did it though I finally reached the spot directly over the trampoline. I paused for five minutes contemplating how I would jump. The trampoline was empty, I was the main attraction for about thirty people. Half of them were telling me to jump and the other half were trying to convince me not to jump. I realize now the people that were telling me to jump were about as drunk as I was. At this point there was no going back… I had to jump. I realized that if I were to turn around I would take the chance of falling from a different point of the tree, where there was no trampoline. I remember I kept saying to myself, “this is probably what Evil Kanevil felt like when he jumped fifty busses on his motorcycle.” I figured if I could hang onto the branch it would reduce the height of the actual fall to about fifteen feet. Slowly, I started to work my way around the branch so I was hanging. I was like a cartoon character is hanging off of the cliff and let’s go one finger at a time. I was hanging on for my dear life. I’m no physicist, but I knew it was a bad idea before I let go. While I was in the air I could only hear silence throughout the entire neighborhood. It was like the vibe was sent out from everybody that was watching, to say a prayer for me. My stomach had never had such black butterflies. Then it happened, I hit the trampoline. And within a half of a second, I hit the ground below the trampoline. I could hear a spongy crack and realized once I got my wind back, something was wrong. I rolled off to the side of the trampoline in pain. No one knew what had happened. I played it off as though I just needed an Advil and a good night’s sleep. The pain progressed, and after about a half an hour my symptoms started to worsen. I then realized I needed some serious medical attention. An ambulance was out of the question, I was not ready to draw more embarrassment to myself. So I had a good friend help lay me down in the backseat of his car to take me to the hospital. When Ryan and I arrived at the hospital, I vaguely remember him helping me walk in. We waited for six hours to see what the test results were. It felt like an eternity because of the tremendous amount of pain I was in. At five o’clock in the morning we finally had word. I had broken the L1 in my back; it was the first bone in my vertebrae. It wasn’t at the fall when my life flashed before my eyes, but it was when the doctors told me what a serious injury this was. The doctors sent me on my way with a back brace, pain medication, and some phone numbers to specialized back doctors. Maybe it was the drugs that made me so emotional, but I started to think how my life would be different from this point: “Was I ever going to walk again, was I ever going to work again.” There was more than just the pain to think about. I was starting to get soft by the forced reflection that came with my loss of movement. I was afraid to go to sleep the following night. The pain medications were not helping any. I was fear full of what I would wake up to the following morning. My roommate and his girlfriend woke up the next morning to the sound of my yelling. With an immediate response they both arrived in my room. I don’t remember asking for anything but more pain medication. I took a few pills and fell back to sleep only to wake up a half hour later with squirms again. This time I needed there help to use the bathroom. I remember saying to them, “Is this how I am going to live my life, pain medication and someone to help me use the bathroom'” I kept repeating the same sentence to them for the next two weeks. I even remember crying this to them. If it wasn’t for their help I don’t think I would have accomplished everyday things. They drove me to the doctor’s office for my follow-ups. The next few weeks brought me food and kept things positive. One doctor’s, visit I recall them saying that they typically find this bone broken in elderly people. It was at this point where I started to find hope. If anything, I would be as useful as an elderly person. But I wanted more, I wanted to make a full recovery I wanted my back to be 100%. About one week went by and I started to become mobile. The doctors did not recommend this, but I felt the more I moved the more I can prevent laziness, or better yet get off of the pain medications I was on. I was starting to form an addiction. My typical day would start out by taking a handful of medication just to get out of bed. I fell asleep with pills and woke up with pills. It was everything I did not want to be. I remember the first simple thing I did I walked up and down a set of stairs. It took me about ten or fifteen minutes. Then I visualized myself being Rocky Balboa when he ran up the stairs in “Rocky the Third” but on a much smaller scale. After I successfully climbed the stairs, I wanted to do more. I had to be patient though. Even though I was starting to walk I was only doing it to get food and go to the bathroom. I was still only able to look out the window and see the people in the neighborhood enjoying the rest of their summer. By the third week I had enough. There was only so much television to watch and so many books to read. I wanted to enjoy the eighty five degree summer sun. In my backyard there was a fire pit I used for fires when company would come over. One of my last summer projects was to dig it out and replace the brick with limestone underneath. It took me one day of visualizing and analyzing all of the steps to do this project in such serious condition. I was ready the following day to start. I set my alarm clock for eight a.m., put on some work clothes as if I were going to work, and made my way outside. I started to remove the old firebricks one at a time. Every movement hurt with a reminder of the incident. Why did I do such a dumb thing. I remember saying that to myself only once. At this point I had to concentrate on this project and picture how nice it would be to enjoy a nice fire with some friends. The pain was horrendous but I was determined to accomplish this project. When I took a break at lunch time I had completely cleared out the four foot by four foot pit. As I sat on the patio table eating a sandwich and looking at what I have accomplished so far, I thought to myself that the stairs were nothing compared to this. I started to think about all of the people that overcame spinal injuries and started to relate. There are so many statistics that I’ve heard of about people that recover from such serious injuries. Now I was a bit more empathic with people that have been in accidents. Lunchtime was over. “Back to work,” I said to myself. It was now time to carry the limestone over. I loaded one five pound limestone brick at a time into my wheel barrel. The wheel barrel was used as a momentous crutch. It was now the hottest part of the day and my back was really starting to sweat because of the brace. I took a break and reflected on the project almost every five minutes. The more I stopped working, the more I felt like I was falling behind. After about fifteen bricks and four more hours I was finished. What could have taken a maximum of three hours if I was healthy, took me all day. This was my “great wall.” It was one of the projects I would never forget. Shortly after my accomplishment, I started to call people and let them know what I have done. My parents were the first to be relieved. I remember my mom acting like she would when I would get an “A” in tough classes in grade school. My boss at work was now ready to take me back doing strictly light labor. So here I am two years later, attending school again. I now realize how important staying healthy and taking care of my body truly is. Now when I want to do something crazy or death deifying, I am always causes as to what the outcome could possibly be.