It’s been a very long time since I’ve touched this blog. I’ll be turning off the annoying twitter updates and do a much needed cleanup of the whole damn thing.
What has happened since the last I posted about buying a ski helmet? Well, I had a wonderful time skiing with new and old friends at Grand Targhee. It’s in Wyoming but you access it from Idaho. The other side of the mountain is the famous Jackson Hole ski resort but GT gets better snow due to it being on the west side of the mountain range…at least according to people I talked to out there.
The helmet did wonderfully. So wonderfully that it prevented a pretty major head injury. My arm, not so much. We had arrived in Idaho on a Sunday and on Wednesday I fell. Badly. Did a flip using my right arm as a pivot point. I heard two distinct *set* of cracks and landed on my ass facing the left side of the run. Side note….at the time the run was listed as a blue. Later on in the summer the resort changed it to a black. I wonder if I was the straw that broke the camel’s back in terms of difficulty ratings. Anyway, I cussed and cried a lot. Had to get it out before anyone saw me.
A teenage couple and an older feller saw me sitting on the run, asked if I was okay, I told them I wasn’t…so they stayed to keep me company and console me. I don’t know their names but I so appreciate their kindness. They really kept me calm. We weren’t far from the ski lift and after about 5 minutes my friends were passing by in one of the chairs. I was wearing very distinctive neon green pants so they knew who I was and asked if all was okay. I told them I broke my arm. They then turned around in the chair and yelled to the folks behind them to pass on to the people behind *them* to get the ski patrol. Each person on the ski lift did just that. It was like a game of Operator except that the message did not get mangled by the time the news got to the base.
Not too long after my friends joined up with me and my trio of support. Then the ski patrol showed up. I told them I was pretty sure I broke more than one bone as there were two *sets* of cracking noises. I was in shock, too, so I was repeating myself and was just dazed and a little amused at my lack of luck.
It was a bitch to get into the sled they had to go retrieve and the littlest of ski patrol folks was the one who had to ski me down. She might’ve been small but she was strong and self-assured. I got the feeling this was one of her first jaunts into a real rescue. She did splendidly.
When getting into the sled the best way of thinking about *doing it* despite having an arm of loose broken bits is to realize things are already fucked up so might as well grin and bear it and just deal with the resultant pain. I was more grossed out by the floppingness and didn’t want to accidentally lay on my limp noodle of an arm.
My one friend took a photo of me in the sled, he asked if it was okay and I smiled yes, and I gave the peace sign. The pain in a bad break comes in waves and I was currently in an okay state. The photo turned out nicely.
All rights reserved by gpra_46 (flickr)
At the end of the run the sled was then hooked up to a snowmobile and I was advised to cover my mouth because of the fumes. Goodness, the ski patrol wasn’t kidding. As we made our way to first aid people wished anonymous me good luck. I wish I could thank them, too.
At first aid I got the feeling that some folks weren’t sure my injury wasn’t that bad. The same thing happened years ago when I broke my collarbone. With the help of friends and the folks at first aid we were able to get my coat off…especially when I was told they might have to cut me out of it. Hell, no! Again, the arm was already a limp noodle so as soon as a wave of pain passed we all worked to get my arm out of the sleeve. I didn’t share with them how my arm drooped for the brief moment no one was holding it in place.
A temporary sling was made up and then the ambulance arrived. At the same time as I was being tended to a woman was being treated for a possible heart attack. My friends and I talked with the ambulance driver and she said she couldn’t tell me that getting a ride from a friend would be better than bouncing in the back of the ambulance but the innuendo was strong so the van went off with the possible heart attack gal and I waited for my friend to bring her car.
I still had delusions that it might be a simple break and that the next day, our last day of skiing, I’d spend it in the bar/restaurant reading and waiting on my snowboarding friends to come in occasionally to visit. HA!
We got to the local hospital in Idaho and I got some much needed pain relievers. Might’ve been morphine. Whatever it was every time I closed my eyes I felt like I was skiing. So I tried to keep my eyes open. The nurses and other med help (some from the ambulance service) were a little doubtful that I had a bad break but I warned the one guy who was going to help me get out of my sweater that every time I move my arm it felt like a bag of Rice Krispies. He gave me that, “Uh huh” look but then when he held my arm as we all wiggled me out of my sweater he was like, “Damn, you’re right.”
Then it was x-ray time. Meanwhile my friends J and C were with me consoling me the whole time and cracking jokes and being great. I’m still so thankful for all that they did for me. Everyone on our trip was fabulous but those two deserve the biggest kudos. J was the one who called my mom ’cause I was just not able to do it, to tell her and my dad what happened…not yet.
I was in and out of it due to the pain and the meds but kept reminding myself to be very very nice to everyone at the hospital and not let them feel like they were hurting me as they moved my arm this way and that for various medical reasons. The two gals who had to do the xrays were so apologetic…and there was no need, they had to get my arm into the right positions to see what was going on. They looked at the xrays and then were even *more* apologetic.
When J saw the xrays he seemed rather impressed. The doc that had to be brought in had to give me the bad news that my breaks were bad enough that he couldn’t do anything for me…that I had to be shipped off to Idaho City where they were better equipped to handle these kinds of breaks. Whee?
There was talk of a helicopter but instead I rode one ambulance to a hospital on the way to the bigger hospital. There we dropped off a feller who was in so much pain and the whole way there, in between his bouts of *extreme* pain, he made jokes. He and the nurse and the ambulance driver all knew each other…so there were lots of good in-jokes. A very nice group of people and I hope he’s okay.
After we dropped him off I was transferred to a different ambulance and this time had to lie down on a gurney. I didn’t like that…on the other ride I sat near my fellow pain sufferer and it was comfortable. Lying down wasn’t as stable feeling.
This nurse was more closed off but then I got him to talk about his family and then we talked about dogs he’s had and that was nice.
Okay…that’s it for now. I’ll continue the tale of the gimpy arm later.
ps…I still have never seen the xrays of the all the breaks and the dislocated bones…I wonder if the doc could send them to me?
Something that would make the air and water show more exciting (and dangerous)
Before Hooters started doing car washes it was a more sedate affair.
Crafts gone wrong. Very wrong.
That red one is a parking nightmare. But it’s kewl.
When crossing an intersection was easier.
Because there was once a time where freezing one’s food was a mystery.
Nifty and strange cars.
Being a teenager is so much fun!
Obey the man sitting stiffly on his motorcycle.
