July 18, 2011

Trying to avoid scraping my knuckles on the cheese-grater posing as our front door, I got hung up on the ramp and started rolling backward. A slight drift to the right and my right-rear tire dropped off the edge mid-ramp. The increased angle of recline, combined with the superior grip of my new wheelchair gloves as I tried to slow my roll, sent the chair up and over the anti-tip bars, which performed well in vaulting the chair (and me) even higher into the air. Upon passing the zenith of my trajectory I knew there was no chance for recovery and did the only thing I could: brace for impact.
My head bounced off the driveway like a dropped bowling ball and the air left my lungs in a rush. The stars danced around in my field of vision and I marveled that I was still conscious. My first attempt to inhale failed as did the second and I feared the worst: a spinal cord injury at C-4 or higher had disabled my diaphragm and thereby my ability to breathe. I closed my eyes, concentrated, and drew in a breath. My relief was short-lived as I attempted to move my arms and couldn't. "OK, just breathe," I thought. A few minutes later I again felt relief upon finding my arm function returning.
Unsure whether I was actually Ok, I asked my brother Charlie to call 911. Much to their credit, SD Fire Dept arrived in minutes. Vital signs were checked, EKGs were monitored, IV line and oxygen were administered, and I was strapped to a spine-board, lifted onto a gurney, and loaded into the ambulance. A short ride to Sharp Memorial Hospital and a CT scan followed and I was soon informed that I had not further injured my c-spine or brain. I had rung my bell but was essentially OK ( but for a sore neck and an abrasion on the back of my noggin)and was summarily discharged from the ER with peace of mind.
Nothing like solid head-to-concrete contact and a quick trip to the trauma center to slow a man down in his wheelchair.