Finding a surgeon

June 16 - 20

The days between arriving home and surgery are a bit hazy. Dad was sleeping on my floor because I needed meds every 4 hours but I had to eat with the meds so Dad got up every four hours, got me some rice cakes and watermelon and woke me up. I would grumpily wake up, depending on what time it was, eat, swallow my pills and go back to sleep. I am so grateful for a daddy who loves his “girl with the golden hair”.

During the day, Matt was with me most of the time, often just sitting by my bed reading as I slept. It was so wonderful to have him there. I know I say that just about every other sentence but its because its true. I look back on this time more grateful and in love with him.

The search was on to find a surgeon. Mom and I have the same primary care and she was out of town so we couldn’t get her opinion. Dad’s primary was also out of town but because he goes to our church their relationship is a little bit more personal and they were able to reach him. He gave us the name of Dr Yeh and we (Mom, Dad, Matt and I) went to see him. We went through the x-ray shock process with every doctor. Each group of x-ray techs was as shocked to see my hand as the next. Dr Yeh thought he could do my surgery but he was going out of town (I guess it was vacation week time). So he recommended Dr. Dhabakula. We went to see him and did the same old routine. Both of these doctors mentioned things like “I’ve never seen that many fractures in one hand!” which made Mom a little uneasy as she didn’t want me to be a case study and I gotta say, I agreed. But we set up surgery for June 21st with Dr D.

Meanwhile, God had other plans. When Mom and Dad called their caregroup leaders to ask for prayer, it just so happened they were eating dinner with another couple (Mom and Dad actually had done their premarital years ago). This couple had a child born without fingers but through the amazing work of Dr. Seitz at the Cleveland Clinic their son now has three fingers and a thumb, all grown and created using his own tissues, tendons etc. Well, I did not want to go to Cleveland. I didn’t want to travel in the slightest. But Mom and Dad sent him my x-rays basically with the hopes he would look at them and possibly give a recommendation for someone down here. Well God did just that and therefore we got connected with Dr. Egleseder.

Dr E is awesome. First, he took time to call Mom and Dad from the literal OR to talk about my case. He told them about the seriousness of my injury but didn’t freak out about it. He works at University of Maryland Shock Trauma and so most of his patients are not walk-ins, they are often helicoptered in from the scene. He asked how we found him and when my parents mentioned Dr William Seitz, he said, “Oh you know Bill!?” haha it was so refreshing to have someone be calm about my case. He however could only say that maybe he could do surgery on Monday (the day scheduled with Dr D) and definitely not Tuesday but definitely Wednesday if Monday didn’t work.

Well I wanted surgery as soon as possible but at the same time I had learned Dr E’s reputation as one of the best (evidently he is in the top 3 of hand surgeons in the country). I asked Dad to please decide because I just didn’t feel I was in the right place to make such a big decision. Eventually we decided on Dr E whenever he could do it. We cancelled Dr D and waited. Monday didn’t work so surgery was scheduled for 7:00 am Wednesday.

I tend to be the kind of person that likes attention (not all the time but...) so Monday or so my hand had gotten to the point where it didn’t hurt as bad etc. I decided it couldn’t be as bad as the x-rays etc and it was probably just me trying to get attention. Because of this I didn’t want to go to surgery at all.

Hospital #2 and trip home

Well they transferred me to Johnson City via ambulance but I am forever grateful they didn't use the siren so that I am not now traumatized when I hear that sound. It took another thirty minutes or so and the paramedics were so nice and kept talking to me and asking if I needed more morphine etc until I finally fell asleep for a few minutes before we got there.

Matt followed the ambulance and was the first face I saw when we got to JC and then the next face I saw was Murray's in the waiting room. (She had been headed to a wedding near Syracuse and was therefore close by when she got the text about my accident.) I cannot begin to say how incredibly grateful I was to have them both there. I don't know how I would have gotten through that night without them. It wasn't just having a familiar face but having my favorite faces. They were my anchors. I felt comfortable enough that I was laughing and crying in the same breath and was ok. We had to wait in the room in the ER for a while but I got lucky and was in the room farthest back so it almost felt like we were already admitted.

Matt was kind enough to wash the blood off my right hand to help me feel somewhat normal. His love for me through this whole thing was overwhelming. I couldn't have asked for me. The nurse at Delaware Valley had washed my wallet as best she could, they had taken off my clothes (cutting through my BBC shirt which made me sad), and Peter had washed my phone as best he could.

Murray held it together by taking pictures. :) I was a tad bit doped up so I don't remember much of what we talked about or did. I heard that when I would get taken for x-rays is when Murray would start to cry.

Dr. Kerr's resident or assistant or whoever came in to examine my hand and ask all the questions that I had been asked thirty times already. They told me he would be doing my surgery to fix my hand but it was an "ortho night" meaning all the ER cases that had come in seemed to require his attention. So I was told surgery probably wouldn't be until 12 or 1 in the morning (I had lost track of the time by now so I have no idea what time it was.).

I was taken for more x-rays. I gotta say I really enjoyed the x-ray techs. Most of them would share some story of how they had broken a finger or two before as they were setting me up to take the x-ray and then as soon as they saw the x-ray they were shouting for others to come see and "Oh my gosh!! Do you see how many bones are broken?" "Holy crap! You did good!" Fortunately, I was on enough morphine by this time that I was ok with the comments I kept receiving.

They admitted me and put me in a room upstairs and came in to check on me and give me their best estimate of surgery time from time to time. Eventually they came in saying surgery might not be till two or three am and checked my hand. They then came in maybe 5 or 10 minutes later saying we were doing surgery NOW! Apparently the color of my ring finger indicated it was not getting the circulation it needed and I was in danger of losing it, if they did not do surgery soon. They took me downstairs and the anesthesiologist gave his schpeel. (He looked like Matt Coiner by the way.)

The surgeon was there also to explain that his specialty is not hands and due to the extensiveness of my injury he wasn't going to attempt to set anything but more just put them all back in the right place/right direction. I am still amazed with his humility in this. You always hear that surgeons consider themselves to be God etc but here he was telling me he doesn't know everything and doesn't want to mess anything up. Then I remember being wheeled to the OR but the next thing I remember is being semi-awake being wheeled back to my room and seeing Matt and Murray. Murray left shortly after I came out of surgery but I was alert enough to know she left.

Matt spent the night in a recliner next to my bed. Once again, he was the most amazing boyfriend ever during this whole thing. He handled calling my parents and telling my friends etc. He slept in a chair in a room that evidently had the heat on? (Again, God's grace that my roommate allowed him to spend the night. She didn't have to let him.) After surgery they came in roughly every 30-45 minutes to make circulation was good in my hand. Of course they did this by squeezing my fingers which, no matter how much pain medication I was on, hurt like nuts. They had drilled little holes into each of my fingers to allow for the swelling to subside a bit but they were squeezing these fingers which again hurt like crazy. I was doped up enough to fall back asleep within moments each time until about 7:30. Matt was not so lucky. The heat combined with sleeping in a chair combined with the lights being turned on every 30 minutes didn't make for a restful night. And of course in the middle of the night apparently I told him to stop taking off my clothes. Ha I don't know what that means aside from proving that I was doped up.

June 13, 2010

Around 12:30 my parents arrived. Mom did pretty good holding it together. Eventually later that day I skyped with Bec and Janet and Dre and a few others. I don't remember much of this day or the next. We spent a lot of time trying to decide if we should wait to go home and do the surgery with a hand surgeon at that hospital or try to find one in Maryland. Dad and Matt spent Sunday night in a hotel and Mom stayed with me. I was really glad Matt was able to get real rest. Mom of course didn't get tons of sleep but better than Matt the night before.

June 14, 2010

Matt and Dad went to see my car and take pictures. Definitely wasn't easy for either of them. (For the record I didn't look at the pictures of my car until Nov 14).

Everyone who saw my car has said that it is a good thing I'm not tall so that my roof was caved in and not my skull. We finally decided on heading to Maryland for surgery because the surgeon in NY wanted to wait for the swelling to go down so we were going to have to wait either way.

Armed with pillows galore, I was discharged. We began one of the longest car trips of my life. My arm throbbed with every bump in the road and I cried in fear a good portion of the trip simply because it was the first time I had been in a car since Saturday. Matt squeezed my hand, talked to me, read to me etc. When we were maybe halfway home, we stopped at a gas station for a bathroom break and in stopping noticed that the car was smoking. Well, we were about to call AAA when a state trooper pulled up and Dad told him our situation and instead of it taking hours for AAA to get there, he was able to get them there in about 15 minutes. When they showed up Dad again explained the situation and even though they don't normally fix things the guy fixed it for a little extra money.

Meanwhile we checked in with Murray and she was actually on her way home to Maryland to drop off her car and only ten miles ahead of us on the highway. She backtracked a little in order in case the car wasn't going to be able to be fixed right away and she could take me home. Fortunately we didn't need her car but she was nice enough to caravan with us the rest of the way home just in case. We met up with Matt's parents in Frederick and I have never wished he was my husband more only for the fact that I didn't want him to leave. His parents picked him up (he had sent his car home with Peter and Becky so he could be with me in the car) and brought me beautiful pink carnations. And 40 minutes later we were home.

Hospital #1

After what felt like absolutely forever, I heard a car and someone calling, “Cynthia?” I recognized Deb and she introduced me to her dad, Paul. Deb asked if I was ok and then caught a glimpse of my hand and told her dad. At this point, my hand was a mangled mess.

My ring finger was going practically perpendicular to the rest of my hand. Every single one of my fingers was pretty clearly broken. My hand was hugely swollen. Paul helped me into the car and told Deb to call Carol to let her know and then call someone about picking up my car. He then drove me to the hospital. He asked me if I wanted him to stop at his house to get ice or a towel but I just couldn't think of anything other than getting to the hospital. The entire 30 minute drive all I remember is that every bump in the road made me fight back tears. I realized after the fact I never really cried. There were tears but I never fully released and cried. There was no cell phone service until we were a few minutes from the hospital. Paul was so kind and kept talking to me the entire ride even though I didn't have much to say. When we finally did have consistent cell phone service I called Matt. The conversation went something like this:

"There you are!"

"Hi..babe..."

"Are you ok?"

"I crashed my car...bad"

"Are you hurt?"

"I broke my hand. I am just getting to the hospital. Can you call my parents?"

Matt headed over while Paul and I went inside. When we got there they bustled around and made me get onto the backboard. (Even though I had walked up the hill to call, gotten into and out of the car and walked into the ER...I know its protocol but it still annoyed me.) They put me up on a stretcher and put me in a back room. They kept asking me if I hurt anywhere else and poking and prodding me making sure I wasn't injured anywhere else. The only other thing that hurt was my right thigh. All I could think about was getting off the backboard and dying for Matt to get there.

When Matt did get there he gave me the best kiss on the head I have ever had. (Sounds silly I know but it was the comfort I needed.) He told me later when he saw my hand, his stomach kinda turned but he held my other one.

"I did good, huh?"

"Oh yeah, baby."

"Can you take pictures?"

They did lots of x-rays and CT scans. They continually asked me if I was alright or if I needed anything and all I kept asking for was when I could get off the backboard which they finally let me off as soon as they got the CT scan back. They at some point or another put me on morphine and an IV which were definitely helping. Shortly after the CT scan came back clear they got me ready to be transferred to Johnson City because Delaware Valley doesn't have a trauma center.

Having Matt there made everything easier. I hated when they did the x-rays and CT scan cause I had to leave him and they kept moving my hand and it was cold and in general was horrible. But when I was with Matt I had a hand to hold and someone to distract me. They got me loaded into the ambulance just as Gary arrived. They opened up the doors to let me see him for a few minutes. He seemed a bit of a mess but told me he grabbed a bunch of stuff from my car and brought it over to the hospital and gave it to Matt. After a few minutes, he headed back to camp with Peter and Becky and I headed to Johnson City with Matt following the ambulance. It was about another thirty minute trip to the hospital and at this point I was coherent enough to talk to the EMT etc although still in pretty significant pain. Shortly before we arrived at Johnson City I fell asleep.

The Accident

June 12, 2010

I arrived in Hancock just a little before 12 and was glad to be on time. I spent several minutes looking for the key to the house and feeling like an idiot for not being able to find the key. I decided to drive up to the top of the hill to call Carol and ask if somehow I was looking in the wrong place. I wasn’t but she gave me Deb’s house number to call if I still couldn’t find it. I started driving down the hill and when I got right past Tent & Trailer I felt the speed of the car and got nervous. I hadn’t accelerated the entire way down but had still picked up too much speed. As I started to make the turn I lost control.

I remember turning one way, a little too hard I guess and then when I went to turn the other way my tire must have gone in the ditch and so when I went the other way the car began to flip. I ended up flipping twice (or I guess one and a half since I landed on the roof).

From the start of the accident until I realized I was hurt, all I could think was, “Great! My car is going to need to be towed or something and then fixed and its going to mess up my schedule for training, etc.” When the car stopped, first I checked my feet. I was worried they would be tangled up in the pedals and I wouldn’t be able to get out. When I realized I could, I climbed out, through the passenger side window as the car was kind of leaning towards my window. Thats when I realized I had hurt my hand. It was at that point that I let loose. I screamed for a few minutes. Like hard core screaming in fear and shock and just general fear. "HELP!!! SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!"

After a few minutes I got myself together and realized I needed to get myself some help. I surveyed the scene and saw my car on its roof, with its hazards blinking and my stuff thrown everywhere on the road. I found my cell phone and I grabbed my backpack out of the car thinking my wallet was in there but all the while worried the car was going to move again and scared it would fall on me. It didn’t but my wallet wasn’t in there. I found it a little further down the road. I grabbed my wallet knowing I would need my insurance and license later, plus I could use it as a splint until I got help. I started walking back up the hill with my phone trying to call 911. Twice, I had to sit down because I started blacking out but eventually I got to the part of the hill that has signal.

From there, I called Carol S. She answered the phone in her usual cheery way and when she heard my voice, she asked what was wrong and when I told her about my car (“Hi..it’s Cynthia...I...I..broke my car.”) she asked if I was ok (“No, I broke my hand”) and then I don’t remember the rest of the conversation except at one point I started losing signal while trying to give her my phone number. When I hung up the phone, I laid down on my back on the side of the road and began fanning away flies from the bloody mess that was my hand. I lay on the side of the road and the worse the flies got, the more I couldn’t handle it. I actually prayed that the Lord would take away the flies away and shortly afterward they were gone. (“Lord, I can barely keep it together as it is, please take the flies away.”) After what felt like absolutely forever, I heard a car and someone calling, “Cynthia?”