I’ve struggled to write this post about my recent injury. I usually blog when I glean some personal insight into finding shama/inner-peace. But the story I’m about to tell will continue for quite some time, and I have no idea when the ending will play out (months, years?).
Eric and I quietly and privately got married on May 1st. For years we have committed ourselves as life partners, but when we decided to formalize things with a marriage certificate I anticipated an extra special, romantic honeymoon period in our relationship.
Well.
Our lives changed in the span of about 4 or 5 seconds. I went from being a new bride to being a patient, with my new husband as my full time caregiver. Nothing like testing “in sickness and in health” marriage vows right off the bat.
So here’s what happened. Eric and I are producing a TV show about road tripping to unique locations. In July we were filming an episode in Vermont, a state we picked initially for the sole reason that it is home to Dog Chapel, a sweet, quirky, lovely place where people pay homage to their dead dogs by leaving photos and notes tacked to the walls. It’s a pilgrimage I’ve wanted to make since a friend told me about it last year after Yoda transitioned. I figured by putting Dog Chapel in the show, I would be lighting two candles with one flame.
On July 15th, Dog Chapel was our last day of filming in Vermont before we headed to Maine to film for another week. Towards the end of the day, I had the BRILLIANT idea (okay, really not brilliant at all, and actually one of the worst decisions of my life) to film a Pomeranian running through a doggy door. The short version is on “action”the Pomeranian ran in the wrong direction. I lunged to catch it, and I plunged right off a cement staircase.
I ended up in a rural Vermont ER, where they told me I have a tibial plateau fracture (and I would later find out I also have a fractured femur). I had no idea what a tibial plateau fracture (“TPF”) was, but presumed it would be like that mild stress fracture I had in high school where six weeks later the cast came off and I was walking on my own. I was wrong.
I was put in a full leg immobilizer, told I couldn’t put any weight on my leg, and ordered to see an orthopedic surgeon within 48 
hours. So we canceled our Maine shoot and Eric and our Director of Photography, Andrew, drove me a very long 6 hours back to New Jersey, with every bump in the road feeling like someone was smashing my knee with a hammer.
The next day I saw an orthopedist who gave me a new full-leg metal hinged brace that I like to pretend makes me look like a bionic woman. He looked at my CT Scan results and told me I don’t need surgery—HURRAY! Of course my celebration abruptly ended when I learned that this will be a very long, painful and frustrating journey to walking again. A tibial plateau fracture is pretty rare and accounts for only 1% of all bone breaks. The tibia and femur are the two largest bones in the body, and thus take a really long time to heal. I broke the top end of the tibia and the bottom end of the femur, which are both part of the knee joint, one of the most critical weight bearing joints in the body. When you have a TPF you cannot put any weight whatsoever on the leg for a length of time that varies from 6 weeks to many months.
Here’s what I have to look forward to with my recovery: Hopefully at 6 weeks (one week from now), I’ll be able to be partial weight bearing (that means I’ll be able to touch my toe to the ground with a tiny bit of weight (like 20 pounds worth) while still in a full leg brace and still on crutches). With any luck (meaning all my calcium supplements are doing their job) my scans will show good bone growth and then at 9 or 10 weeks I can finally begin PT to learn to walk again. My orthopedist hopes I’ll take my first steps on my own (without a brace, crutches, walker or cane) at the 3 month mark. Shit got real fast when I watched videos of my TPF comrades taking their first unassisted steps, and they look like toddlers learning to walk. I’ve been reading it can take a year or more to get rid of the limp and get my gait back (insert crying jag here).
Second to the 24/7 pain, the most horrific part of this injury is the complete and total loss of my independence. A friend recently told me that when he describes me to people he uses many verbs: I’m always busy, always over committed, always trying to accomplish something. I’m not good with sitting still. Yet here I sit five weeks after my accident, with my leg elevated and my cold therapy machine pumping ice water around my knee (which is really the only real pain relief I’ve found). I’m not able to do much of anything myself. Obviously you can’t even carry a glass of water across the room when you can only put weight on one foot and are bound to crutches, all while hitching your pelvis in a weird position so you don’t touch your foot to the floor (which is really difficult when you are wearing a full leg brace that is holding your leg almost straight).
This all means my husband, my brand spanking new glorious husband, has now become my sexy manservant.
Because we have really steep, scary stairs, and because I can’t bend my leg when I crutch, going upstairs has been impossible. The bedroom and the showers are upstairs, so I’ve been living, sleeping and eating in the living room and taking daily sponge baths. I’m a girl who has been known to occasionally take two showers a day, so let’s just say that sponge baths really suck in my world. One day, out of desperation for clean hair, Eric even washed my greasy hair with a garden hose. It was a sloppy wet disaster, and we quickly bought a kitchen sink spray faucet that we’ve been using since. We also finally got a chair lift installed and last week Eric helped me take my first shower in 32 DAYS. Really, sitting on my new shower bench with my leg propped up on the side of the tub, having hot water rain down on me was as close to bathing perfection as I have ever felt.
I could complain about the pain in my knee, about my hip spasms from balancing on my good leg, about learning to sleep on my back (I hate it, how do you back sleepers do it?!), about needing an elevated toilet seat with medical bars and other granny gear, and about the rapid muscle atrophy in my TPF leg. But I realized from the start that this injury hasn’t solely happened to me. The accident also changed Eric’s life overnight. He has to help me bathe and dress, he cooks for me, washes the dishes, does my laundry, does all the shopping, takes me to the doctor, and about a million other things. My new wheelchair has given me a small amount of much needed independence, but the fact of the matter is I could not be navigating this recovery without Eric. He has to be exhausted, but he doesn’t complain. Instead, he finds ways to make me laugh—like telling me he got a lemon for a bride and wants to trade me in for a new model. So we laugh, and sometimes I cry, but mainly we laugh.
It is hard work being positive, given this is the most physically and emotionally challenging experience of my life. But I think that now more than ever I need to put in the elbow grease to be strong and optimistic. Things could obviously be soooo much worse. I will walk again, hopefully soon-ish. Some people aren’t that lucky.
Already I’ve recognized a couple gifts from the experience. (Warning, this first one is woo woo girl stuff). The actual act of breaking my bones was one of the most spiritual experiences of my life. When it happened it was like I was in a timeless, quiet, peaceful space—almost floating in a different dimension. I felt the snap of the bone, but it was like I knew it was happening to me, but at the same time it was not at all happening to me and I was just an observer. When I stopped rolling off the staircase, I opened my eyes and the world was noisy and bright. I wanted to go back to that sacred, calm, dark space. This makes me feel, even more than I ever believed, that there is something bigger and more beautiful out there, just beyond my reach.
The other gift has to do with my marriage. That this happened right after our wedding is so nuts that I kinda think it was supposed to happen. Like this was some twisted wedding gift from the Universe—almost like a test with a reward at the end. And here’s the thing: Eric and I are earning our gold stars. The intimacy of this yucky shared experience is bringing us closer than we ever dreamed we could be. It’s cementing our bond and deepening our love and commitment to one another. I didn’t think it was possible, but now I’m even more madly and completely in love with my gorgeous, compassionate, loving husband.
So thanks Universe. You have given us the best wedding gift we could have asked for. Now can we please move on to the part where I walk again?
{ 8 comments }
Hi Kee Kee, I hope you are taking a lot of Vitamin D, it’s good for the bones! It sounds like you had an out of body experience when you fell, which tends to be a very euphoric feeling. I suspect your very positive attitude will hasten your recovery. I appreciate hearing your story especially since that’s hard to do.
All good wishes, Ruth
Hi Ruth! I’m taking copious amounts of good bone supplements (including Vitamin D, calcium, strontium, magnesium, Vit C, collagen and many others). It sounds like you are familiar with out of body experiences. They are pretty amazing. Sending you love. Kee Kee
So sorry this happened to you Kee Kee but so glad you have Eric to take care of you. I share your difficulty in sleeping on my back, what worked for me instead is buying a body pillow. I sleep now propped on my side with one arm and one leg over the pillow and one each under the pillow. Perhaps you could try that to see if it works for you?
Hi Julie, Thanks you so much for your note. Right now I have to sleep on my back not only because of this really uncomfortable, heavy brace on my leg, but also because I need to elevate my leg. But once I am cleared to remove the brace, I’ll definitely be using a body pillow and going back to sleeping on my side. Thanks for the idea!
Once you can sleep on your side again sometimes a second body pillow can be handy to wedge in beside you to make sure you can’t roll over or otherwise move around too much in your sleep. Following back and neck surgery I had to learn to be creative in how I slept. You will figure out what works best for you. Keep healing!
I like the idea of making a cocoon out of pillows to make me feel safe. I’m grateful for the ideas, but sorry to hear you had to have back and neck surgery. I hope you are all healed up now!
Hi, week 4 of TPF, surgery three weeks ago. I am falling in love with my husband of 3-1/2 years over and over again. Although I try to tell people in our world, no one will ever understand how good a person he is and now much he gives up for me.
I am early in recovery, am trying the spot the lessons and silver linings. I am an oil painter who always paints too fast. If TPF doesn’t cure that, then nothing will. Also enjoying oil painting tutorials.
Hi Carrie,
How wonderful that you have a husband who is stepping up to the plate. I agree, it’s a way to fall in love with your husband in a deeper way than you knew possible. I’m so sorry to learn you have joined the TPF club. It’s at times a very lonely, challenging, and long journey to walking again, but you can do it! Now that I’m at the other end, I can honestly say that although I’m not happy it happened to me, at the same time I have so much gratitude for all I learned and I wouldn’t trade the experience for the world. Hopefully you can set yourself up in a way that you can paint during your recovery! Wishing you health and a speedy recovery.
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