Gratitude

Progress has been slow on the writing front. Energy levels have been very low. Two additional hospitalizations, emergency surgery to remove a collection of questionable tissue, and daily high powered I.V. antibiotics haven’t helped things out much either. I should say they’ve all been necessary and very good for long term recovery. Its just that I’ve been overwhelmed and oddly busy for a guy who’s job is to sit on his ass save a few meals and trips to the bathroom. I was relieved to learn that I’ve been moderately anemic since the accident. At least that partly explains why even the shortest of walks feel like a monumental effort. With some blood building supplements in hand, I’m looking forward to more physical energy and an improved emotional state. So, there still is a chance that I’ll finish an account of my fall off The Thimble of the High Sierra and the events surrounding it. Also, with any luck, I'll get ahold of more photos from the past few weeks and start snapping more of my own. I know how boring all these words can get.....

This is by far the worst injury I’ve ever incurred. From the moment I hit the ground and felt the first surge of pain, there’s been more than a few people who’s love and efforts have not only brightened my day, but literally saved my life and limb. I can’t help myself. They need to be mentioned, if even on this blog.

Bob Banks saved my life on August 18th. Had he not been at the Dreamers with me that day, I would have bled to death underneath the boulder I fell from. Without his ability to focus and ward off the panic I know he felt in those initial moments I wouldn’t have gotten to professional care nearly as quickly, something that also would have led to undesirable results. You need to understand that this guy dragged my crying, panicked bloody body through the dirt and somehow got me in his car and to a hospital very very quickly. He didn’t rely on anyone other than himself. No 911 calls. He just reacted and got things done, something I will never let him live down. You’re a hero Bob. Plain and simple.

Dr. Michael Karch took one look at my mangled leg and decided he was going to fix me up right and that’s exactly what he did. As another doctor put it, this was anything but ankle break 101. With very little planning, he somehow managed to to take 11 or more bone fragments and screw them back together along with all the other muscle and connective tissue. Over the course of a 4+ hour surgery Dr. Karch took a leg that some would have simply cut off and put it back in the ball game, giving me every benefit of the doubt. He could have told me that I’d never walk again, but instead he believes that I’ll be climbing next year, and I believe him.

I’m blessed to have two loving parents. Even with a massive work load and financial madness swirling in their future, they’ve taken me like only they could. Feeding me, cleaning me, encouraging me.... I knew I was loved, but wow! Dad’s spent hours on the phone fighting insurance battles while Mom’s prepared nourishing food night after night. I’m 28. They didn’t sign up for this shit. What they and I often forget is that there’s plenty of parents out there that wouldn’t stop everything for their crazy son who finally managed to mangle himself climbing rocks. I have and continue to be blessed by their never ending support.

My little brother Jesse also lives at home and even with a 30 hour work week and a full time college schedule he’s acted as my on call nurse on more than one occasion - late night medicine deliveries, numerous errands during the day, glass after glass of water. There isn’t a moment he hasn’t been ready to do whatever I need and he does so calmly and without hesitation. The kid would perform surgery if I asked him to I think. He’s also granted access to my old pull up bar (which is now his pull up bar because he took over my room when I moved out). So he quietly steps around the mess while I’m resting in between the embarrassingly meager sets. Thanks dude. Hanging out with you on a daily basis has been one of the best parts of this mess.

And then there’s Bridget..... Along with my parents and younger brother she’s assumed a caretaker role, spending nearly every waking moment tending to her 170 lb infant of a boyfriend in any number of ways. However, she’s also taken the brunt of the emotional baggage that comes along with this sort of injury. This has been anything but easy, and she’s been there during the darkest moments allowing me to dump a whole lot of tears, negativity and worry in her direction. Simply put, she’s been my crying post, a job no one enjoys. What was once a fun active exciting relationship has changed dramatically and she’s stuck around and tried to make the best of it. I’ll owe her more than a few dinners after this is all said and done. I love you sweetheart.

And the list goes on. My ever encouraging and devoted close circle of friends are irreplaceable. Their advice, open ears and humor help keep me pointed in the right direction, something that is very hard to do at times. Out of town visitors, thoughtful gifts, numerous phone calls - every effort, no matter how small feels so large on my end. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I promise I’ll keep doing my best to get through this. Sometime in the future I’ll be healthy and we’ll all celebrate things properly.