Trauma, Sunnyside
I fractured my spine in 3 places.
Here's the story:
I was climbing a route I've done a million times on the bouldering wall (which is like 15 ft high that you climb with no harnesses). In fact, I SET the route. I created the damn thing. But this time, my foot got caught and my hands slipped. I was upside down for a split fucking second before I crashed down on my head, thankfully rolled onto my shoulders and back so my neck escaped without any injury, and then my legs came down on top of me like a pile of bricks. Feet over my head, and I basically became a sandwich, hearing the loudest crack that I'll never be able to get out of my mind. That was the sound of me becoming completely disabled for months. That was the sound that hurt me a lot, but thank god- did not leave me paralyzed, or kill me.
Immediately I curled up and started screaming incoherently for my coworker to call someone. The words came out loud and like someone with down syndrome was talking. I started wiggling my toes and making sure I could feel my fingers as tears came down my face- all while my back felt like it was collapsing and seizing at the same time.
I always thought I could be that patient that would stay calm enough to follow EMT's directions. I was wrong. Fighting to follow their words of "YOU HAVE TO TAKE DEEP BREATHES", I couldn't stop hyperventilating. My entire body went numb. The ambulance ride seemed endless. i kept thinking I just wanted to be there, no more bumps on the road please. The EMT told me that soon I would pass out if I didn't stop breathing the way I was. That my body would take over and I would pass out, and then my body would re-set the way I was breathing. I prayed to pass out. The EMT asked if I had anxiety. I said, maybe right now.
Jack met me at the ER. I couldn't see anything, being wheeled in on a stiff board, unable to turn my head. I saw his face of complete disbelief and fear as they wheeled me by him and took me into a room. At that point, my hands and arms had cramped up. My thumbs and fingers were completely rigid and it seemed my thumbs were stuck in a position of trying to touch my pinky. I couldn't un-bend my arms, and still everything was numb.
Inside the room I kept asking for Jack, or Steve, my manager who accompanied me on the ambulance. All the white coats swarming around me, cutting off my clothes, asking me all these questions, and putting me on an IV seemed to strangely somehow calm me a little. It's like how you relax while watching a scary movie when they finally reach a safe haven. My thumbs started to unfold from my palms. They slapped a bracelet on me that read, "Trauma, Sunnyside".
The first dose of morphine made me feel like a wave was passing through me. A swelling feeling inside all my organs for just a second. They took me in for a CAT scan, and finally, I was regaining feeling in my fingers. I closed my eyes and didn't open them until I reached the emergency ward. Jack and Steve walked in, already debriefed by the doctor. I was to stay the night at the hospital. My neck left in a brace, left arm hooked up to a constant blood pressure monitor, right arm hooked up to an IV, chest spotted with EKG stickers & monitors, and wrapped around both legs a contraption to keep my blood flowing. I slept 20 minutes at a time, and woke up only to puke because apparently, morphine makes me nauseous.
The next day, after painful dealings with the hospital to get me discharged. I was finally allowed home. A bright-eyed medical student came in and started unhooking my neck brace as he asked what my name was. I said "Jill". He asked what my last name was, and after I told him he remarked, "Sorry, I only knew you by the name of Trauma, Sunnyside". I asked him if I could finally eat... I hadn't had a meal for 24 hours, and was only allowed ice chips throughout the night. Jack brought me a box of saltine crackers, and let me have the rest of his meatball sub as I kept eyeing it. My mom came, and showed Bellevue hospital who was the boss by stealing a wheelchair from cardiology. After processing my papers twice because all of them said "Trauma, Sunnyside" instead of "Cai, Jill" the first time- I was finally allowed to leave.
So now, I can't walk. I can't sit. I can't stand. I am LITERALLY bedridden for the next 2 weeks. My attempts at walking make me look like Quasimodo. Completely hunched over, with my hands on my knees as I slowly put one foot in front of the other. My reach is completely confined. I've never felt so helpless before. Patrick, a friend of Jack and mine who lives in this building came to visit. "What the fuck, girl!?" were his first words to me. He said it's not even worth crying over, because it could have been so much worse. And, that's true. I have 3 fractures that my mom described as "very severe" after looking at my x-rays, but my spinal cord is unaffected. Eventually, I'll be able to sit, stand and walk again. And I'm fucking alive. Hence, the bracelet around my wrist that reads, "Trauma, Sunnyside."
Here's the story:
I was climbing a route I've done a million times on the bouldering wall (which is like 15 ft high that you climb with no harnesses). In fact, I SET the route. I created the damn thing. But this time, my foot got caught and my hands slipped. I was upside down for a split fucking second before I crashed down on my head, thankfully rolled onto my shoulders and back so my neck escaped without any injury, and then my legs came down on top of me like a pile of bricks. Feet over my head, and I basically became a sandwich, hearing the loudest crack that I'll never be able to get out of my mind. That was the sound of me becoming completely disabled for months. That was the sound that hurt me a lot, but thank god- did not leave me paralyzed, or kill me.
Immediately I curled up and started screaming incoherently for my coworker to call someone. The words came out loud and like someone with down syndrome was talking. I started wiggling my toes and making sure I could feel my fingers as tears came down my face- all while my back felt like it was collapsing and seizing at the same time.
I always thought I could be that patient that would stay calm enough to follow EMT's directions. I was wrong. Fighting to follow their words of "YOU HAVE TO TAKE DEEP BREATHES", I couldn't stop hyperventilating. My entire body went numb. The ambulance ride seemed endless. i kept thinking I just wanted to be there, no more bumps on the road please. The EMT told me that soon I would pass out if I didn't stop breathing the way I was. That my body would take over and I would pass out, and then my body would re-set the way I was breathing. I prayed to pass out. The EMT asked if I had anxiety. I said, maybe right now.
Jack met me at the ER. I couldn't see anything, being wheeled in on a stiff board, unable to turn my head. I saw his face of complete disbelief and fear as they wheeled me by him and took me into a room. At that point, my hands and arms had cramped up. My thumbs and fingers were completely rigid and it seemed my thumbs were stuck in a position of trying to touch my pinky. I couldn't un-bend my arms, and still everything was numb.
Inside the room I kept asking for Jack, or Steve, my manager who accompanied me on the ambulance. All the white coats swarming around me, cutting off my clothes, asking me all these questions, and putting me on an IV seemed to strangely somehow calm me a little. It's like how you relax while watching a scary movie when they finally reach a safe haven. My thumbs started to unfold from my palms. They slapped a bracelet on me that read, "Trauma, Sunnyside".
The first dose of morphine made me feel like a wave was passing through me. A swelling feeling inside all my organs for just a second. They took me in for a CAT scan, and finally, I was regaining feeling in my fingers. I closed my eyes and didn't open them until I reached the emergency ward. Jack and Steve walked in, already debriefed by the doctor. I was to stay the night at the hospital. My neck left in a brace, left arm hooked up to a constant blood pressure monitor, right arm hooked up to an IV, chest spotted with EKG stickers & monitors, and wrapped around both legs a contraption to keep my blood flowing. I slept 20 minutes at a time, and woke up only to puke because apparently, morphine makes me nauseous.
The next day, after painful dealings with the hospital to get me discharged. I was finally allowed home. A bright-eyed medical student came in and started unhooking my neck brace as he asked what my name was. I said "Jill". He asked what my last name was, and after I told him he remarked, "Sorry, I only knew you by the name of Trauma, Sunnyside". I asked him if I could finally eat... I hadn't had a meal for 24 hours, and was only allowed ice chips throughout the night. Jack brought me a box of saltine crackers, and let me have the rest of his meatball sub as I kept eyeing it. My mom came, and showed Bellevue hospital who was the boss by stealing a wheelchair from cardiology. After processing my papers twice because all of them said "Trauma, Sunnyside" instead of "Cai, Jill" the first time- I was finally allowed to leave.
So now, I can't walk. I can't sit. I can't stand. I am LITERALLY bedridden for the next 2 weeks. My attempts at walking make me look like Quasimodo. Completely hunched over, with my hands on my knees as I slowly put one foot in front of the other. My reach is completely confined. I've never felt so helpless before. Patrick, a friend of Jack and mine who lives in this building came to visit. "What the fuck, girl!?" were his first words to me. He said it's not even worth crying over, because it could have been so much worse. And, that's true. I have 3 fractures that my mom described as "very severe" after looking at my x-rays, but my spinal cord is unaffected. Eventually, I'll be able to sit, stand and walk again. And I'm fucking alive. Hence, the bracelet around my wrist that reads, "Trauma, Sunnyside."