Hi Folks!

The above xray is a picture of my stabilized neck. 8 hours+ of fine work about 10 weeks ago...Many of you have been glad I've been gone, but a few actually missed me, so I'll tell you what happened to me on Aug 1st.This will probably be a long post and not characteristic of me at all, seeing that it's generally a happy story. But given what has recently transpired in this country, I figure a happy-gram can't hurt.

I woke up to pee, the bane of Oldfarts around the world, about 2AM. My heart went into an nasty rhythm and I fell forward and landed on the pedestal of our bath and instead of sliding into the the damn tub, I folded further, jack-knifed my neck and crashed to the floor.Think of all the football players you've seen take seemingly minimal hits and then never move again. That was me.

My Love was on a red-eye flight back from Seattle and only our children were home. I was on the floor and realized I was paralyzed. Luckily our 17 yo little girl heard the noise of the fall and came running with big brothers right behind her. I remember screaming that I've broken my fucking neck, asking our oldest to get a pistol and please put me out of my misery, and wishing to die. I cannot, to this day, imagine what hurt I caused them...

Instead my youngest called 911, told them her dad, Dr Oldfart, had fallen, broken his neck, needed the flight team and spinal cord steroids and to be taken to our "terrible" County Hospital, were I work and teach, and right now!! Our next oldest took a pen and touched all dermatomes and told me (later) that I said I could feel some of it and he knew I would be alright. Our oldest stabilized my neck and moved my arms out from under my body instead of getting my 44 and putting me out of my misery. My children hate medicine. I have no idea how they knew to do this..

The "terrible" EMS flight crew had me on my flight pad in 15 MINUTES from the time of my fall where I remember seeing 2 of my colleagues and our chief of trauma. I don't remember too much of what happened next or the month of August. Your mind shuts down in times like these to minimize the trauma. I have "snapshots" and what has been told to me by family and friends.

I can not imagine what went through my Love's mind when her phone went off as soon as she turned it on when she landed and the message from our son was do not stop, come directly to the hospital, dad is phucked up bad.

For a couple of weeks my surgeon was "hanging crepe" which is doctor talk for this patient is FUBAR. Luckily, I do not remember being on the ventilator. According to my big brother, when I was awake, I would thrash my neck about to try to complete the job and die. Apparently when I didn't have a tube in my throat, I was not a nice person either. The list goes on and mostly downhill.

After a couple of days my surgeon buddy decided no resident or any other doctor was to touch me except him, unless he asked for them and he needed them. Within a few days I developed a blood clot, underwent several rounds of unsuccessful cardioversions, had a vena-cava filter placed, was bronchoscoped, went into ARDS... Oh the fun I missed!

After a few weeks my doc decided to give me 1 last try to get off the ventilator before fitting me with a trach and feeding tube. It worked. A day or so after some of the sedation wore off, I began to move my hands and feet a little. I was transferred to a spinal cord rehab facility. When I got there, it was apparent they were expecting "second base" if you know what I mean. Three days later I stood up and walked with assistance and I continued working from there.

Today I'm climbing stairs and back in the ED, slower, weaker, and tired, but I'm back...

What really happened...

The fall and stuff is all true, the medical care exemplary but not experimental..Within a few hours of my Love's arrival, my big brother and sister arrived. My children started e-mailing friends about what happened. By the end of the next couple of days I was on more prayer lists across the nation than I even knew existed.

My ex-residents, friends from everywhere, and even old fraternity brothers from college started showing up in the ICU to add their support and, dare I say, love, for me and my family.

Fans of this blog started finding ways to get to me. Rad Girl cooks some MAD cookies! Dev and Lynn, you guys rock and some day we will meet. The author of a competing blog managed to figure out who I was and showed up in the ICU to offer his best wishes. I was still unconscious. That was classy Grunt Doc (at least I think it was you, I still don't know). 911 showed up after I was transferred, with a bottle of fine sippin' whiskey. Two of my ex residents flew in from the east coast to make certain my major project continued to run smoothly. Of course all of my colleagues from the hospital showed their support. Without my nurse and tech friends, it would have been so much harder on my Love. They really took care of her. My big brother was astounded that, given my warm and fuzzy nature, that this many people even knew me much less gave a crap about me.

In short, I'm not so much much of a medical miracle as I am a spiritual miracle. And you people are no small part of that. Many of you know I am a born again Christian (also a preacher's kid, we're the worst it's true) I am alive and kickin' today because of the thousands of people who prayed for me and God is faithful to answer the prayers of his children.

I could keep on going, more gross medical shit, things I did and said (supposedly), mushy stories of how great my wife, kids, family and friends are, etc but that would just be too weird for me..Anyway, I'll tell some more stories about it in time if you want, otherwise I'll just try to get back to being my usual crabby, cussin, complicated self and post a few extra comments and stories. May even use you all for therapy from time to time...God bless you all, your friend and burr under the saddle, OF