Riding, crashing, and recovering

Training for this upcoming half Ironman has been fun, but challenging.  The hardest part has been finding time for Jeremy and I to both squeeze in our longer rides and runs.  With work, family, and daylight it is just tough.  We decided to take a trip to Utah so our families could see the kids, but also so Jeremy and I could get a 50 mile bike ride and 8 mile run in while we had access to fabulous babysitters.  The day started out great.  Bruce rode with us for the first 15 miles or so then told Jeremy and I where some of his favorite routes were.  When Jeremy and I found the Mountain View Corridor we could see why he liked it so much; the shoulder was wide, it was clean, the traffic wasn't heavy, and there were spectacular views of the valley.  Jeremy had just installed my aerobars that morning and this ride was giving me a chance to learn how to ride with them and feel comfortable.  I found that they really are comfortable to ride in, but getting in and out of them is a little unstable.  I have no idea what actually triggered it, all I know is that suddenly I found myself swerving out of control with one arm in and one arm out of the areobars.  I knew that I was going to crash.  I also knew just as clearly that I didn't know the best way to fall to prevent getting hurt.  Then I was head and shoulder first into the landscaping rocks on the side of the road.  I felt every bump, roll, and rock as I violently fell to the ground.  Once I stopped moving I took an inventory of my body.  I had knocked the wind out of me, but that wasn't too bad.  I had scrapped up my knee on the rocks but that didn't hurt much.  I knew my head hit the rocks hard but my helmet had done its job and I was sure I was fine there.  What worried me was that I couldn't move my right arm.  Jeremy jumped off his bike and came running over.  It didn't take long after he checked me over for major bleeding that I knew I had to go to the hospital.  He pulled out his phone to call his dad to come get us and there was nothing to do then but wait.  While I was laying there we had three bicyclists stop to check on me and three motorists. One gentleman even had some ibuprofen in his car that he let me have.  I was hurting a lot by that point and was very willing to take meds from strangers.  When Jeremy pulled me up into a sitting position I let out a little cry because my shoulder hurt so much.  Up until that point I had hoped it was a simple dislocated shoulder, but at that moment I knew I had broken my collar bone.  Once Bruce arrived with the truck, I wasn't sure how I was going to get in because it hurt so badly, but somehow I managed to climb in.  I was very grateful that Riverton ER was only a short drive away.  

As we walked into the ER it didn't take the nurses long to figure out I was in pain and needed help.  I was shivering uncontrollably and so the triage nurse first took me to a bed and covered me with heated blankets before doing anything else.  I was so grateful.  Another nurse came in to start treating me for pain.  She hooked me up to a morphin drip and I have to say I wasn't impressed.  It made me a little dizzy but I still felt as if I was in the same amount of pain as before.  They wheeled me down to radiology and the x-rays confirmed that my clavicle was broken.  The doctors told me there was nothing they could do for me there except prescribe me pain meds and give me a sling.   Any further treatment would have to be done back home in Colorado.  I suspected as much but still hoped the recovery would go quickly.  Before they discharged me the nurse came to scrub my road rash.  The only good thing about falling where I did was that my road rash wasn't too dirty.  As it was I had road rash on eight knuckles, my knee, my elbow and my shoulder.  By the time they finished bandaging me up I looked liked a neon pinata.

Back at Bruce and Leesa's the girls were more than a little surprised to see me all bandaged up.  All I could do was sit on the couch, not move, and hope no one would bump me.  It was not a very comfortable way to spend the evening.  That night when it was time to go to bed I knew I needed to change out of my exercise clothes but I had no idea how to do that without moving or cutting off my shirt.  It was a new shirt and I really didn't want to cut it ff, so my sweet husband found a seam ripper and unstitched a strap of my shirt and my bra to get them off me.  I don't remember much of the next few days because of the Lortab I was taking, but I do remember the struggle it was to sit up or lay down, trying to position Kelton so I could feed him without pain, Jeremy needing to dress and undress me, and how much it hurt all the time.  It was a pretty miserable weekend and it quickly became apparent that I was going to need some serious help when we got home to Colorado.  My mom was able to drive out with us and help me for about a week.  I couldn't even take care of myself let alone my family.

Once home we settled into our new routine.  Grandma would get up and get the kids dressed, fed and out the door to school.  I sat there and watched.  She came home to get Kelton bathed and dressed, and I sat on my bed and watched.  She would help me get dressed, and I sat on the couch and watched her take care of all my chores.  When it was time to take the girls to swim lessons or soccer practice I sat in the front seat giving directions and explaining what needed to happen while we were there.  It was really strange knowing that the only thing on my to-do list was to rest and get better.  

As the week progressed I started feeling a little better, but one of the bone shards was causing me sharp, intense pain.  As the swelling went down, it started poking up through my skin more and more.  The slightest touch of the shard pressing against my skin was enough to bring tears to my eyes.  At my follow-up appointment they took another set of x-rays that showed how close that shard was to breaking through the skin, as well as another floating piece of bone that we couldn't see with the first x-ray.  The doctor gave me two choices at that point: I could choose to have surgery to remove the bone shard now and they would have to insert a metal plate to aid with the recovery, or I could wait six weeks for it to heal on its own and then have surgery to file the bone shard down.  Either way they were going to have to open me up.  Either way I was going to have a scar.  I just knew I had to get back to being a mom as quickly as possible and I couldn't do that if I was in as much pain as I was in.  I chose to have the surgery as soon as possible so at least when all was said and done, my shoulder would be straight and that shard would be gone.  

They scheduled the surgery on one of our busiest days.  Jeremy was at work all day and McKenzie had gymnastics.  We had to get very creative getting all of the kids to their babysitters and activities, and getting me to where I needed to be.  I hate to admit it, but I really didn't want to be alone at the hospital.  I was scared to have surgery and wanted Jeremy or my mom with me through it all.  I had to be dropped off by myself for check-in and was only alone for 45 minutes or so, but during that time my stomach had some serious butterflies.  It was a huge relief seeing my mom come into pre-op, and an even bigger relief seeing Jeremy come in during his short lunch break.  Jeremy left and suddenly it was time to wheel me into surgery.  I have one memory of taking deep breathes of oxygen before waking up completely fuzzy-headed.  Waking up from general anesthesia was a strange experience.  I didn't have my glasses on so everything was blurry and I'm sure the medication didn't help either.  I remember being very thirsty and asking for water.  I remember a nurse putting chapstick on my parched lips.  I remember being in a lot of pain and asking, crying for medicine.  I remember coming in and out of consciousness a few times before I really felt lucid.  When I was coherent enough to realize the surgery was over I asked the nurses what time it was and was shocked when they said 4:45.  I was supposed to have picked up my kids at 4:00!  I knew that the surgery must have been more complicated than they expected, but the only thing I cared about was my kids.  It took a long time before they let my mom come back and see me.  She took my phone from the security officer and just as I was about to call my babysitters, Jeremy called to say that he was done with work.  I was still in a fog but was coherent enough to know that meant it was roughly 7:00.  My poor kids and my poor sitters.  It seemed like a hard thing to balance getting home to my kids as quickly as possible, and waiting to leave until I was feeling well enough to sit up and put on clothes.  It's all a blur but I know I at least made it home.

Recovery from the surgery was like experiencing deja vu.  I had been progressing enough to walk around the house and take a shower by myself, but now I was back to square one.  The meds I was on made me feel dizzy and nauseous.  I didn't eat much at all for those two weeks after the crash and quickly lost six pounds.  The pain I was in was similar, but different.  The bone shard was gone, hallelujah!  I had a  little more range of motion because bones wren't grinding together anymore, but I just ached and ached.  Apparently when the surgeon opened me up he saw that my bone was completely shattered.  The only way to get the screws in the plate to hold on to the bone was to piece all of the shards together with a donor tissue putty.  I don't even really know what that is.  He also discovered that I have tiny pediatric-sized bones.  Plates are all made for adult males so he had to get creative attaching it.  Because reconstruction was not ideal I have to be very cautious during recovery.  I can't take my sling off for a month, and I can't raise my arm above my head at all for another two weeks after that.  I can't put any pressure against my shoulder which means I am off diaper duty until mid-May.  But it also means that I can't drive until mid-May.  I have been completely dependent on my mom, Leesa, and Jeremy to take care of everything and to take me everywhere. 

 It has been three weeks since I crashed and I'm still celebrating the small things.  I have learned to put in my contacts with one hand.  My arm can reach high enough now that I can put my hair into a low side ponytail all by myself! I can get Kelton out of his crib one-handed because he has learned to hold onto me as I lift him.  I have enough range of motion in my wrist that I can braid the girls' hair.  I graduated from Jeremy's large button-up shirts to mine that go over my head.  It's amazing all the things I am learning how to do with my left hand only (like typing this post). I still get a little depressed that I can't take care of Kelton like I want and that I can't take tare of my family like I used to.  And writing an email to the Ironman association saying that I needed to withdraw from the race made me feel sick and defeated.  But I know that I will heal and will eventually be back to my old self.  Without that confidence, this whole ordeal might have been so much worse.  I am grateful to have help from friends, family, and my girls to make it easier on me physically and emotionally.  Here's to hoping that I will be typing these posts with both hands in the near future!  

Before our ride I had no idea what awaited me.

The ER x-ray

 Coming home from the ER looking awesome!

 The girls thought my sling needed a little bedazzling.

The shard beginning to show through.

 And my sweet post-surgery look.  The yellow and orange skin is a result of my monster bruise, not antiseptic.