I kept this up kind of half a$$ training for a few years off and on. One night while working on the remodels I needed some air after plumbing in the crawl space and breathing in dust. I came out and had a few beers and told my wife I would be right back. I was going to walk a few blocks to the store and get a few things for the house.
I don't remember anything after that except a warm feeling where everything felt right in the world and I was so relaxed. I couldn't see but I heard a lady in the back of my head screaming.
I came to in the Trauma ward and immediately tried to call my wife because she would be worried. I couldn't see or move but my wife was 7 months pregnant and I didn't want her to worry. I kept giving the nurse my old number in NY and she lept saying it wouldn't work. I kept trying it anyway. Finally a police officer came in and told me he was looking for the body. I laughed at that but he was dead serious. he gave me a phone and I remembered my Grandmother's number in FLA. I got ahold of her and repeated what I heard the officer saying.
I had been hit crossing the road. They didn't know what kind of shape I was in but I just told her I was ok. She was crying. She tried to call my mother in NY and my wife in NC. I had blacked out again. She finally got through to my mother who still couldn't reach my wife. It was I guess ten o'clock. My wife hadn't been worried because we live in a large neighborhood of elderly people and they always ask me to help with things. She figured someone had saw me walking and asked me for help and I was still working on whatever they needed. This does happen a lot.
My mother finally got ahold of my wife on FB and when I came to she was there with me. I was instantly relieved. Then the sswelling started. I couldn't handle the pain. I was screaming and my wife was freaking out. The shock wore off and all I felt was pain. The nurse kept telling me to try and wait until morning and the doc would be in. I kept screaming and it got worse and worse. They had medicated me so much they had a DR sit with me to make sure I didn't OD. Finally the ER DR realized it was getting worse and he called in the surgeon. The Surgeon showed up and went ballistic. I went right back to Trauma and he immediately took a scalpel to both sides of my right leg and one side of my left. I drifted into a peaceful sleep finally. When I awoke. I heard them talking. I had Compartment Syndrome in a way rarely seen. The nurse commented she learned about it in school but no one had ever seen it before. The left leg wasn't broke but the trauma to the right caused both to swell uncontrollably. If the Surgeon hadn't sliced when he did I would have lost both legs. The muscle burst as he cut. That would cause problems later with my peronial muscles but at the time I didn't know why the scars where in a big arc but they where.
I later learned the lady that hit me was doing 45 and ran a red light. She didn't have a license or insurance and had just gotten out of jail. She told the cop I was coming in the opposite direction and she had the green light. All the people standing on the corner had not seen anything apparently. After the crowd dispersed one lady gave a statement saying the lady had run the light and I was already across 4 lanes when she ran me over. I had gone up through the windshield and over the car.
Back at the hospital I had to have 4 surgeries in three days. Each time my Hemo count dropped but the Surgeon refused to do a transfusion. I couldn't sit up in bed without blacking out and having my BP crash. I had vacs hooked up inside my legs and they had compression pumps on my legs. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat. I didn't do anything but lay there in constant pain. Finally the day came they removed the vacs and put a nail through the shattered bones that where left in my leg.
The PT group came in and tried to sit me up to get me out of bed. I couldn't move and when I tried my BP crashed and I blacked out again. The Director demanded to know why they hadn't transfused. The hospital policy is anything under 7 and they have to transfuse. I was at 6.8 before they even started doing the surgeries. He forced the surgeon to transfuse causing even more tension. Once I had the transfusion I slept and ate. Within days I was transferred to the Rehab department. I won't go into details but the day I managed to get myself in my chair and use the toilet myself was an amazing day. I never want someone to have to clean my bedpan again.
They started me at Rehab and said two to three weeks or until I could at least get up on the walker and shuffle on one leg. I started sneaking out of my room in my wheel chair and doing extra training sessions. I made my self such a burden with the nurses always looking for me they kicked me out after a week. I was relieved to be home but a new kind of life started. I needed someone to make all my meals and could rarely get out of bed. The house had been half torn apart before the accident and it fell completely apart while I was in. I was embarrassed to have visitors. There was a path through the filth to my bed. Never the less I kept training and tying to get up. My mother came to stay with us and she helped at least make the house liveable.
She cooked for me and got me out everyday even though I started loosing motivation. When she finally had to leave it got a lot worse. I had been recovering faster than anyone expected. I was getting around sort of on my own except I needed someone to get the wheel chair for me to leave the house. My wife was now about 8 months pregnant. I had therapy 3 times a week but fell into severe depression. In between therapies I didn't train like I had before. I suffered from foot drop and constant nerve issues. I had constant pain. I got to where I would lay in bed and not even try to get up. I would watch tv from 5 am until the next morning. My days and nights got all messed up and I had no drive at all.