A One Handed Blog

So I arrived at St. Francis Hospital on the Thursday and was transferred to the burns unit, being lucky to get one of the few beds they have. I was sharing a room with a Hispanic guy who didn’t speak much English…Español was to keep following me it seemed, our shared TV was tuned to the Spanish channels. But at least Kerry finally got to go home and see our cat Leo. Fortunately we had arranged for friends to house sit while we were away, little did they know 10 days would turn into 2 months. Lucky for us since it was one less thing we had to worry about. Kerry told me later Leo seemed quite nonplused to see her, that’s cats for you.

The day after I arrived at St. Francis they asked if I’d like to have a bath or shower. I stared in disbelief, one of the little milestones I’d envisioned was to have a shower. I hadn’t had a decent wash since the accident; the occasional bed bath, a face wash, a shave, but a shower…now we’re talking. My left armpit hadn’t seen water for nearly 2 months. It was bliss to finally stand under hot running water, a little unsteady on my feet perhaps but bliss nevertheless.

The last remaining operation was to close my arm, which could only be done once they were sure all the dead tissue had been debrieded, to avoid future infections. To confirm this I was sent for a full body scan to highlight any dead tissue. The only areas that showed up were my bicep/brachioradialis muscles so surgery was scheduled for the Monday morning to remove the remaining dead tissue and finally close my arm. At last the surgeries would be over…another milestone reached.

The surgery went well and after 3 or so hours I awoke to begin the next phase in my recovery. In total I’d undergone 15 surgeries in 7 weeks, spanning Columbia, Miami and San Francisco…seems hard to believe. Now all I had to do was focus on healing and getting mobile again. After 7 weeks in bed and surgeries to both my legs they were a little stiff to say the least, but I was able to start to get up and walk around, with IV in tow.

It was great to see friends again, it was a bit easier to come visit now that I was back in the Bay Area. Most were quite surprised to see how well I looked, all things considered, and I continued to do well over the next few days to the extent that the doctor felt I should be OK to move to rehab. Kaiser’s intensive rehab facility was in Vallejo and he recommended I stay for a month, as an in-patient – definately not what I had in mind I can assure you.

So after a week in the burns unit I was transferred to intensive rehab in Vallejo. Another ambulance ride and another hospital room, except this time I was sharing with 3 other people. Oh how the mighty had fallen, I’d gone from my own private room with a view to sharing with 3 and a view of a construction site. I just wanted to go home and I emplored my wife to sneak me out while no one was looking.

I was determined not to spend any longer than I needed in Vallejo. Whilst the intensive rehab program is first rate, they deal with recovering stroke victims, after nearly two months away I really wanted to be home. Luckily the rehab program allowed for "weekend passes", or time off for good behaviour as I called it. Patients were allowed home Saturday afternoon for the night as a prelude to returning home full time. After being examined by the doctors Kerry convinced everyone I was doing well enough to be let home and so 2 months since the accident I finally got to go home, and whist I returned again that Sunday I was finally discharged 2 days later and got to go home for good.

And as they say "that was just the beginning…"

With my hand amputated I at least felt that I was on a road to recovery; but it was far from over. My arm was still open, likewise my leg, with many more surgeries still required.

The next two weeks fell into a fairly regular routine of three wound dressing changes a day and four hours of hyperbaric treatment, interspersed with a surgery or two during the week as they continued to bebride my arm and leg. It seemed strange to have my leg and arm remain open so long as they waited to see what was viable tissue. I was lucky to not get any major infection or complication throughout my recovery.

As word spread of my accident flowers started to arrive from friends and family. My mum flew in from Spain for a week, my brother from the UK and my very good friend from California. Being so far from anywhere I’d call home it was great to see familiar faces.

After the two weeks of surgeries they finally felt they would be able to close my wounds. This was to involve taking a free flap from the thigh of my left leg for my arm and a skin graft from the top of my right leg for my right thigh. The flap was a delicate operation, including connecting an artery and nerve that they took with the flap from my leg. The entire surgery took a total of twelve hours and at the end my arm had swollen to twice its normal size.

The first 24 hours after the operation were critical , the nurses checked blood flow and temprature ever hour or so to see if the flap was viable. This was an incredibly stressful time as we waited to see if everything would be successful. As the first 24 hours passed I recommenced hyperbaric treatments to assist with the healing and now I had wound care not just for my arm and right leg but also my left leg where they’d taken the flap from. Dr. Gonzalez-Hernandez was hoping to stretch the skin on my leg to avoid a further skin graft…this involved twisting wires in my leg every few days to try and close the gap!

The one consolation was the great view from my hospital room window and the weather, couldn’t have been much better if I was staying at a 5 star hotel. As I started to gain strength both physically and mentally I could venture outside in a wheel chair with my wife behind mem, I could enjoy the sun while California was being drenched in rain.

Even though the closure surgery was a success I was to still undergo several more surgeries as there was concern over the viability of my bicep and brachioradialis muscles. They kept a hole open at the bottom of the flap so they could continue to bebride the muscles, this wouldn’t finally be closed until I reached St. Francis hospital in San Francisco.

As the weeks rolled by both Kerry and I felt the desire to return home. We could have probably stayed another month or more in hospital in Miami recovering, but, with Kerry living out of a hotel and the hotel bills rising and after being away from home for nearly two months it was time to head home and so we worked with Kaiser Permanente and our doctors to get medically evacuated again back to California.

My finally surgery in Miami was to close my left leg, unfortunately my skin hadn’t stretched enough to cover where the flap was taken and so they did another skin graft to close the remaining area…not pretty but it did the job.

And so after a 10 hour flight involving stops in Alabama and Denver our medi-vac jet arrived at SFO and I was transported to St. Francis Hospital in San Francisco.

We meet some amazingly caring people at Mercy Hospital who helped both
myself and my wife get through such a traumatic time, I’m sure we will
continue to stay in touch and thanks to all of you for your kindness.