It's Been a Long Time, I Shouldn't Have Left You Without a Dope Video

Bonus points for anyone who can identify the allusion in the title...

It's been nearly a year since my last post. I am still alive and progressing, but, the progress is less visible and much harder to quantify or describe in a blog post. I'm getting pretty close to the two year anniversary of my accident, Life Day as we call it now, on July 9. In case you have forgotten, Dr. Reichman told me that I could experience improvement for up to two years after the surgery but that significant progress beyond two years was unlikely. As it gets closer it makes me think about how much progress I have made and whether or not it is enough. It has also motivated me to make whatever progress I can before I reach the two-year mark.

I often tell myself that most of my problems are conditioning and muscle strength issues, rather than the result of neurologic malfunction. Somehow that makes me feel like I can extend the clock, which is hopeful, but not motivational. The fact is, I don't know how many of my current limitations would be resolved with a more ambitious exercise regimen and how many are here to stay.

This frame of mind has made me think about how to make progress for free. So, this week I started driving with only my right leg. As a point of reference, I stopped using the left foot accelerator shortly after we moved to Michigan and started driving with two feet, my left on the brake and my right on the gas. That only took a day or two to master. That method freed me of the portable accelerator (which I think we sold, although I can't be sure) and made it possible to drive any automatic transmission vehicle without extra equipment. If I can now master driving with just my right foot, I will be able to drive manual transmission vehicles again.

Driving with one foot brought something else to my attention. When I first started driving with two feet it was a real challenge to be able to lift my right toes up enough to keep them off the gas pedal (sounds really safe I know). Dorsiflexion (being able to lift up your toes) is still the greatest weakness in my right leg. However, this recent change to my driving has made me notice that I no longer have any difficulty keeping my foot off the gas pedal. In fact, I have just enough dorsiflexion to do it and no more. This can't possibly be coincidence. I am sure the repeated effort to lift my toes up enough to keep them off the gas pedal got me to where I am. So even though it is still a bit of a struggle to move my right leg between the two pedals when I drive one-footed, I am doing it in the hope that the repetition will yield further improvement.

Driving also got me thinking about what other therapy I could get for free. I have noticed that when I am standing I rest all my weight on my left leg and when I walk most of my propulsion comes from my left leg. Also, when I walk I still hyperextend my right leg so that most of the support comes from my knee locking rather than from my quad. When I bend down, I always lean to my left so that my weight is over my left leg. I have done it this way for so long that now I do it from custom, even though it is no longer necessary. In fact, I can stand on just my right leg. I can propel myself almost exclusively with my right leg, and I can squat with my weight evenly distributed. My quad has made quite a bit of progress, but I haven't limited the progress by favoring it so much. So this week I have been focusing on getting more from my normal activities by trying to do them more normally. For example, I started getting in and out of a car normally, rather than doing it like I am transferring from a walker or a wheelchair: another habit I developed. Interestingly enough, I forgot how normal people get in and out of cars. I knew I did it differently than I used to, but I couldn't remember how I used to do it. In fact, I asked Wendy and she couldn't describe how she does it either (strange how our actions become so mechanical that we cannot consciously describe them). I had to watch her do it and then really think about it to be able to do it myself.

In addition to trying to make better use of my right leg in the things I do daily, I am also trying to bring back activities I used to participate in before the accident. Wendy and I have been going down to the elementary school with the girls a few times a week. While they ride bikes and play on the playground we shoot hoops. We haven't played any one-on-one yet, but even just shooting, rebounding, dribbling, and picking up the ball are sufficiently different from my regular activities to leave me sore in different areas. Sometimes when I chase after a ball I try to "run". Running is still difficult and awkward and I feel ridiculous doing it, but I suppose using a walker and a cane looks a little ridiculous too, and if I hadn't done it I wouldn't be walking today. So I think there is more running in my future.

I am much better off than Dr. Hilmo suggested I might be (walking on braces and crutches around the house but living most of my life in a wheelchair). But I wouldn't call myself fully recovered either, as Dr. Reichman suggested was possible. I have been looking for ways to quantify my progress, both for my benefit and yours (assuming there is anyone still monitoring this blog). Recently we took the girls to a park and there was a twisty balance beam. I found that I was able to walk it, which required me to stand and balance with all my weight on my right leg (certainly not something I could do even 6 months ago). That seemed as good an indicator of my progress as anything else, so I decided to share.

The Tortoise and his two Hares

Since we moved into our new house in Michigan, I have been spending quite a bit of time inside. I have projects to finish, addresses to change, tests to study for, etc. And now that I don't even have to walk from the parking lot to my office, I haven't been getting much exercise or fresh air. Fortunately, we have gone downtown a couple of times this week to see the sights, so at least I get to walk around then.

Today I needed a walk and I asked Ayden and Claire if they wanted to come with me. They got on dresses, put on shoes, got their babies (dolls) and their strollers ready and we took off. It was hilarious to see them walk. They would run and race each other with strollers careening madly down the sidewalk until they found something interesting. Then they would stop and stare at it and talk about it until I caught up and passed them. Then they would take off again to catch up to me until they found a new distraction. I felt quite a bit like the tortoise and the hare, and you can guess which part I played. I wasn't about to run, or even power walk to keep up. And I'm not sure I could have kept up if I had wanted to.

Towards the end, Ayden got tired and asked me to carry her stroller (because she didn't like the sound the wheels made when she pushed it). Claire however saw that our house was just down at the end of the street and took off running. I told her to wait for us at the corner. She got down to the corner and turned around to see us only half way down the block and decided to come back. She walked with us the rest of the way to the house. Ayden was talking to me as I walked and I could hear Claire singing some song but I didn't pay much attention to it. During a lull in the conversation, I finally caught what Claire was singing:

"If you caaann't run,

as fast as meeeee,

I'll just have to teach you,

aaaalll the time."

She repeated it over and over again all the way down the street to our house. She even came up with her own tune and stuck with it. That child's imagination never ceases to amaze me. For your entertainment, I took a video to share.

There's a hole in my living room... and in my heart

There just won't be room for my reclining chair in our new house. Even so, I never thought the chair would sell so fast. And when they came to pick it up I wasn't prepared for the emotional response I would experience. The gaping hole in the living room is a fitting representation. This phase of my life has ended, and none too soon: next week makes a full year. I can't remember sitting at the desk to work, but I guess it is time to get back into the habit and leave the cripple chair behind. How did the girls feel? Claire just thought it was cool to see them disassemble the chair and Ayden was a little treasure hunter once the chair was out of the way.

I slept in my chair last night. Not as a final farewell. In fact, I didn't know it would be gone at the time. I did it because I got home after 4:00 am and I didn't want to go into the bedroom and wake Wendy. I was up late finishing slides for my thesis defense. While it is true that I have had months to finish them, what would life be without procrastination?

My thesis defense went well, although longer than I expected. One of my committee members asked a lot of questions. However, they were questions of curiosity about my work, so I didn't feel intimidated. My committee gave a very favorable report, so I was pleased. Also, I was informed on Tuesday that the main results for my thesis have been accepted for publication in the Society for Industrial and Applied Mathematics Journal on Matrix Analysis and Applications.

On a sadder note, our first choice for a house fell through. The inspector found very serious foundational issues, so we bailed. We are working on putting in an offer for our next choice: cross your fingers. This one was built in 1971, rather than 1925, so hopefully we can avoid foundations slowly sinking into the Michigan mud on this one.

Run Forrest Run!

Some of you have had the privilege of seeing me run. Others of you have not been so fortunate. Wendy took a video of me running while we were playing outside with the girls. I decided to post it so you can all see my progress. To put this in context, I constructed a timeline of my advancements so you can see how long it has taken to be able to do certain activities.

1 week - I start rehab.
2.5 weeks - I can roll myself over in bed.
1 month - I get out of rehab. By this point I can walk about 30 feet on a walker before collapsing.
1.5 months - I start climbing steps. I can also take a few steps on my own although I fall a couple of times attemping this. My distance on the walker is improving (I can make it several hundred feet at a time now).
2.5 months - I am mostly using the walker now. I only use the wheelchair for convenience (now that I finally have one that is).
3 months - I am starting to see some progress in my right quad. I can straighten it when lying on my side in bed. Also, I am starting to stray from the walker. I purchase a cane.
4 months - I exchange my plastic shell for a corset. I can just barely raise my right leg leg against gravity (while I am sitting in a chair). I start using a treadmill with a lot of upper body assistance, and fall in the process.
5 months - I am walking most places without a cane now (this is December). In fact, the first week of January I travel to D.C. and that is the last time I take my cane anywhere. I can also drive (with my left foot).
6 months - My corset comes off, so no more back braces. The only piece of mobility equipment I still use is the left-foot accelerator in the car. I also try my hand at bowling for the first time (not too pretty).
7 months - I am getting around well enough to do major projects around the house. For example, I put in a new bathroom sink.
8 months - I am walking well enough that most people don't notice anything different unless they see me go up or down stairs. In fact, I fool everybody I meet on my trip to Ann Arbor, MI.
9 months - I can completely straighten my right leg against gravity, so there is noticeable improvement in my quad. I can also start to lift a meaningful amount of weight with my right leg.
10 months - I sell all of my equipment except my novelty cane and my left foot accelerator (which I still need). I don't think anymore about distances; I can walk as far as I want to.

I guess I didn't mention that I sold all the other equipment: wheelchair, walker, shower bench, etc. I finally didn't need it anymore and we decided to get rid of it before we moved.

And now, just short of 11 months, I can jump (a little) and run (kind of). Here it is for your amazement. It looks pretty ridiculous, so feel free to laugh; I always do.

Pumping Iron

For the last several months I have been going to the gym twice a week (uhem, well, I've been trying at least). I have been frustrated trying to exercise my right quad because it is so week that I can't really do most of the exercises. If I do squats, all my weight is on my left leg. On the quad machine, if I use both legs, it's hard for my right leg to even maintain contact with the weight bar. On the other hand, if I just use my right leg, I can't make it budge at even the lowest setting. At the end of a workout, only my left leg felt fatigued. Of course, that has led to a rather large left leg, which only accentuates the difference between the two. It has been frustrating to say the least.

Lately I have had some success on the leg press. The leg press is a weight machine where you sit in a reclined position, put your feet up on a platform, and press down to lift the weight. The motion is similar to squatting or jumping. I can push quite a bit of weight with both legs. When I started I could barely push the first weight level (about 30 pounds) using just my right leg. Of course, if I want to jump I had better be able to do more than that.

Two weeks ago I had the idea to try negatives. I put the leg press on a setting that is a little higher than what I can push with just my right leg and use both legs to fully extend my knees. Then I take my left leg off and try to keep the leg press from falling back. When I started two weeks ago, I couldn't even keep the level 2 setting (60 pounds) from falling back. In fact, I couldn't even slow it down much. I had to catch it with my left leg to keep the weight from crashing down.

Today I was shocked to discover that I can now push through a full range of motion with just my right leg on a level 4 setting: 100 pounds. That is nearly one-tenth of my body weight (ha, ok, just a little exaggeration). I was pretty excited. I have been wondering if I am even making progress. Apparently the negatives are doing wonders and the consistency is starting to show. At this rate I will be running and jumping again in no time.

You're spine is so... twisted

I had my "last" doctor's appointment with neurosurgery today (there's a chance they want me to come in for another one). He told me I am doing pretty well considering I should probably be paralyzed. He also said that the alignment of the titanium cage looks good and my flexion is remarkable; usually fusions in this area restrict your flexibility quite a bit so I am lucky that I can bend as well as I do.

I noticed on the X-ray that my spine seemed crooked. I looked at previous images and found that this was not new. I asked the doctor about it and he said that it is usually impossible to get things perfectly straight after a burst fracture (good to know, I guess). I suppose that explains my miraculous twisting tummy: in case you were not aware, when I flex my six pack (ha), my belly button shifts over to the right side. In fact, flexing or not I think I am little lopsided. Apparently that isn't going away any time soon.

I also found out that I have about a 20% chance of needing another surgery within 5 years. My cushy deskjob actually makes me a little less likely and I can improve my odds even more by staying slim (time to start the diet again) and doing strength training for my core. Of course, Wendy is thrilled to have a solid medical/financial reason to insist on washboard abs. I guess it can't hurt... Apparently the extra strain on the remaining vertebrae can cause some wear and shifting and sometimes it gets bad enough that they have to go in and fix it. Fortunately, my good recovery, age, and the lack of a degenerative disease all play to my favor. In any case, I think I am done going to the doctor's office. I prefer to live in ignorance (and with my money, thank you).

The Bigger They Are...

As many of you know I have officially made my decision for graduate school. I accepted the offer to attend the University of Michigan and now Wendy and I have started looking for a house in the area. In spite of what Wendy says on her blog, it was a difficult decision. Both schools were outstanding and Bloomington was gorgeous. There were pros and cons to both options.

While I was visiting the University of Michigan a couple of the graduate students took us on a tour. During the tour my toe snagged and I fell. I caught myself and got right back up, but it was pretty embarrassing. My hotel roommate (Kyle) was really the only person that knew about my accident, so everyone just thought I was a klutz.

For some reason that fall started a chain of them. I almost fell while talking on the phone at my house. I just about tripped down the stairs at school, I just about lost it handing back tests in my class. It's weird because I haven't fallen in quite some time. I must have caught the falling bug in Michigan. Either that or I have just gotten lazy with my walking. I am sort of a cocky guy.

Tonight, Wendy and I were talking about my first few days in the hospital: throwing up, getting diapers changed, trying to roll over, sponge baths... what wonderful memories! It will be nine months on the 9th of this month. Nine months ago I was miserable and helpless, lying on a hospital bed. It reminds me of all the people that helped me along the way. Family members that helped take care of me in the ICU. Friends that visited and took care of the kids. Ward members that brought in meals. Doctors, surgeons, nurses, therapists, and other professionals that dealt with all my medical issues. Colleagues at school that covered my teaching assignment and donated money to help cover costs. Most importantly, Wendy. It wouldn't be fair to her to publicly admit everything she has done to take care of me. You have all been wonderful.

What a startling contrast with my current condition. On Monday night we took the girls to the park. I participated just as much as any other parent. I watched them go down slides and pushed them on the swings. I held Ayden so she could swing across the monkey bars. At the end of the night I "chased" the girls to the car. My brand of running is pretty comical, but it is starting to approximate the genuine article. I am just happy to have the balance to do something remotely close. I never have to worry about distances anymore; I can walk about as far as I want. I can completely take care of myself now and I can almost get up stairs without using hand rails. While I was in Michigan, one of the professors asked if I was going on the tour and I made a comment about keeping up. He joked that I was pretty tall: if I took big steps I should be fine. I told him about my accident and he was shocked. That always surprises me; I still feel it in every step. But most people don't notice now unless they see me go up stairs. Even then I have been told that I am starting to look pretty natural.

I can still remember my time in rehab, and yet, it seems surreal. When I was in the hospital, I could remember paragliding, but it seemed like a dream as well. Like it happened to somebody else. Now the same is happening with the accident. The memories are fading. And as my strength and ability returns, it gets harder and harder to remember the struggles of those first few months.

For those of you looking for a comical post (Karen), I started out that way, but I ended a little sappy. Hopefully you don't mind. Thanks again to all of you. I couldn't have done it without you. I am thrilled to be where I am and confident that I will keep getting better.

Girls only like a cripple with great skills...

Our faucet has been leaking for the last few decades and Wendy finally got sick of it and bought a new faucet. The old one was corroded and dissolving, so it needed to be done. However, the first pass at fixing it (which I was not a part of) ended with the faucet being disconnected, the cabinetry below the sink breaking, and some critical pieces missing.

Yesterday I spent the morning fixing the sink. It was not very easy since I don't wriggle and squirm around on my back as well as I used to, but we got the old cabinet out, the new one in, the faucet connected and the drain and plug working. I was feeling pretty good since even before the accident I was the kind of guy that usually broke those things and then had to call in reinforcements. Maybe my cripple status has imbued me with additional handyman skills. They say that people with a loss in one of their senses (blind, deaf, mute, etc) often compensate with some other heightened sense. Here's hoping.

I'll take Therapist for 500

I saw my therapist again today. He said he can definitely see some action in my ankle/shin. There hasn't really been anything happening before now, so this is good. He also said there is noticeable improvement in my quad again. It looks like most of the muscle is activating. Now I just have to get some muscle back in there. Pretty much everything has atrophied. He did say he thought there would still be further nerve development, but I think with what I have right now I can get to where I can run and jump well enough to be somewhat active just by doing some weight training.

Bowling for... well, pins of course

Wendy has been complaining that our dates are pretty boring now that I can't really do anything but eat and watch movies. I am not sure what she is talking about because even before the accident all I wanted to do was eat and watch movies. But for her sake, I decided the date-night after having restrictions lifted on my physical activity should be a fun one. It was supposed to be a family date, meaning that we were taking the kids with us. I suggested we go to the bowling alley at BYU and use my free game.

I guess the people at the bowling alley assume that people my size will use large bowling balls because all the six pound balls had really tiny finger holes. I tried to bowl twice. Let's just say that the height from which I was releasing the ball was less than desirable. I found myself looking around to see if people were giving me dirty looks for dropping the ball. Plus, I am sure I looked pretty ridiculous shuffling up to the lane to toss a little granny shot in the general direction of the pins.

The girls had a blast. Wendy and I only bowled a few times. After that, we let the girls take over. We got one of those ramps you can roll the ball down. The girls took turns hefting the six pound ball from the ball return over to the ramp (are you getting a good mental image of Claire carrying a six pound bowling ball, because it was pretty funny). I mastered the art of lining the ramp up enough to pull off a few spares. I would get things aimed right and then the girls would push the ball down. It made things easier on my back, but I still don't recommend it. Even if you line things up perfectly (which we did a couple of times), a six pound ball traveling at 1 mph is just not going to get you a strike any time soon.

Desencorsetado

When the doctor switched my plastic shell to a corset just over two months ago, I got quite a kick out of it. I mean, how many guys are under doctor's orders to wear a corset? Add to that my one-sided girlish figure after having my two lower left ribs taken out and I can really draw some stares. In order to cope with the situation, I had to make fun of it. So I made up a spanglish word: "encorsetado" to describe my trapped, corseted situation.

The time has finally come to be desencorsetado, which being interpreted would mean (if either word actually existed) unencorseted. The doctor has removed all restrictions; I can do whatever I want and I don't have to wear my corset. He did suggest that if I got sore, I could put my corset back on, which would be disunencorseted. I am not really sure how I would turn that into a spanish word, so I just refuse to do it. My liberation from (female-like) oppression occured on Monday, January 12. The next day I went to the gym after going all day without my corset. I decided not to wear my corset to the gym either. I was sore when I was done, but it felt good to be free. Plus, I didn't have to come up with any more fake spanish words.

Mr. West Goes to Washington

The Joint Meeting of the AMS, MAA, and SIAM was held in Washington, D.C. from Monday, January 5 to Thursday, January 8. Because of my stunning good looks (or maybe for some other reason, I'm really not sure) I was invited to attend, all expenses paid. I didn't even submit any work, I was just fortunate enough to be able to go with some other students that did. I was in the hospital during the submission period, and I think my advisor was unsure whether or not I would be able to survive a trip to D.C. It turns out I was only barely able to survive.

Getting through security was pretty fun... at least for the rest of the group. My advisor, Jeff, just sat and laughed. I hope he enjoyed the free show. After getting all my junk on the conveyor belt, I had to get my shoes off. That turned into the Crazy Cripple Dance pretty quickly. I managed to get them off just in time to go through the metal detector, and start the alarms blaring. I forgot about my corset, which has metal rods in the back for support. I told the attendant that I was willing to take off my corset and go through again, but she just tackled me and told me I was under arrest. Actually, that part didn't really happen. They did make me wait in the booth for someone to come give me a pat down. That took an extra fifteen minutes, and then it was time for the Crazy Cripple Dance (reprise) while I tried to get my shoes back on. I almost fell over in the process.

We stayed in the Washington Hilton, which was about a mile walk from the Marriott where the conference was being held. I thought I had done a lot of walking before this trip. I had no idea. Our plane landed in D.C. at about 10:30 pm Sunday night and then we had to take the Metro and walk to our hotel. With all the luggage I was dragging around, I almost decided to just sleep in an alley that night. Everyone else in my group was getting a little frustrated with me that night, and rightfully so. Most people don't really want to be walking down the street in D.C. at 11:00 pm carrying luggage. It's pretty obvious that you are an outsider. They were all trying to hurry to the hotel and I was falling behind. In my defense, we didn't really know how to get to the hotel and we ended up taking the long way around.

The rest of the week was great. The conference was good. The food was good (I ate at Chipotle for lunch all four days)! I even got to visit with Heidi, Andy, Noah, and Micah (my sister and her family) one evening. I didn't do any sight-seeing; the thought of walking around in the name of fun just didn't sit right with me. I took my cane with me to D.C. thinking it would help me get around, but it seems that I have permanently outgrown that because it was just an annoyance. I don't think it helped at all.

For the trip back home, I took off my corset when I went through security in D.C. Everybody in my group thought the metal in my back would still set off the metal detector and turn me into a life-long terrorist threat in airports. Fortunately for me, I cleared security without a problem. I was strapping on my corset on the other side of the metal detector when I was approached by one of the security agents. I was expecting more grief about my cane or my corset until I saw the awed look in his eyes. "Are you coming back from Iraq?" was his question. I had to suppress a smile. "No, just a paragliding accident." He seemed a little disappointed but tried to sound interested. "Oh, that must have hurt."

Driving Again (Legally that is)

I wrote some time ago about taking the driving evaluation with one of the therapists at UVRMC. Even though that went smoothly, that was not the end of the driving story. The DMV never officially revoked my license when the accident occurred. In fact, they never knew about it. At least that is, they didn't until the rehab center sent in the report from my driving evaluation. Even though their report was that I was very able physically to continue driving and that my mental status was no worse than it previously was, the DMV decided that I need to take a driving test with them. You know, the regular "I'm sixteen and I want to get my license now" test. The one where they test all those important skills like whether or not you turn the tire into the curb when parking downhill and away from the curb when parking uphill and making sure you keep your hands at 10 and 2. So just to recap: when I had my debilitating accident which left me paralized from the waist down, the doctor's office said nothing and the DMV did nothing. When I recovered enough to pass a physical exam with flying colors and receive a doctor's whole-hearted endorsement, the DMV decided they need to retest my basic driving competence. Apparently getting paralized can cause you to forget what a stop sign looks like.

Of course, when I got the notification from the DMV I had already been driving. They informed me that I needed to take a driving test within 60 days or my license would be revoked. Now, my license was set for renewal on my birthday anyway, so I was at least going to have to send in forms. But I hadn't planned on having to schedule a test. Of course, my rational solution to the problem was to procrastinate scheduling my exam. It is a pretty effective approach actually: the silent protest, which only I know about and which only affects me. Anyway, by the time I got around to scheduling the exam, the DMV was just plumb booked until December 9th. (Wow, the waiting time to take that driving test is like 2 weeks! Incredible. I can buy 5 cars in the time it takes to get permission to drive one). I told them about my hard and fast deadline (which was November 20-ish). They assured me that if I had an exam scheduled I would be just fine. However, that fateful letter appeared on about the 4th of December informing me that my license had been revoked as of the 24th of November. I figured if I have been driving illegally for two weeks, why stop now? So I just kept driving.

Well, today I went in to take my test. The guys at the DMV weren't even sure what to do with me. One of them recognized me from when I got my motorcycle endorsement because his son is the only other Jeremy Michael West in the state of Utah that is registered to drive. He even asked: "Did you forget how to drive?" Of course I passed without problems; although, I lost a few points for driving one handed at one point and for forgetting to signal while demonstrating my parallel parking skills in the DMV PARKING LOT (who signals in the back of an empty parking while parallel parking between some cones?)! I think the examiner was just mad that I was able to parallel park so well the first time... Anyway, they asked if I wanted a new picture. I said that the old one was fine just to speed up the process, but then he told me that my picture was too old and I had to take a new one. Now remember, before the accident they were going to renew it with just a mailed in form, no new picture. But apparently taking a test necessitates a new picture. Also, the fact that my license had expired necessitated some extra forms. Anyway, it was the typical DMV experience, but the good news is that I am driving now.

On a lighter, less sarcastic/bitter note: I am off the cane (which most of you at church probably know by now). I am walking on my own power now. I still have some shortcomings in my right leg that keep me from running or jumping, but I can stand and walk about as much as I want. Over the Thanksgiving break I even played a rousing game of stationary volleyball (meaning I covered about a square yard and everyone else ran around me to get the other balls). It was fun to pretend that I can play volleyball again at least.

Happy Birthday to Me

As many of you know, yesterday was my birthday. It seems fitting to give a general overview of my progress, particularly since I am now about a week past the 4 month mark.

Most of the talk lately has been about the progress in my quad. Things are still not perfect, but I am definitely seeing improvement. I have posted a video of me lifting my leg (no, I am not a dog) so that you can see how I am doing. Remember that a month ago I couldn't get my leg to even move in this direction. Wendy couldn't resist panning to my face at the end...

The real question is, how does all that strength in my quad translate into activity. The answer: I have stopped using my cane around the Talmage building, which is where my office and my classes are. As long as I am not leaving the building, I walk unassisted. I still have a strange limp, but it's progress. When I am going further, like to the Wilkenson center or the library, I use my cane. It wasn't too long ago that I was thrilled to be able to use a walker around the Talmage building and a wheelchair to get to the library.

I had Wendy take another video of some of the activities that have improved the most. Notice the sit-to-stands from the low couch and the reasonable walking. Also, there have been many questions about my eligibility for this Christmas's soccer season, which I addressed at the end of the video.

Why treadmills have emergency shutoffs

I had therapy today with Shane and he added some more exercises to my routine. Some are to strengthen my right leg, some are to increase my walking stamina, some are to improve my gait, and some are to strengthen and stretch my torso now that I have a little more flexibility from the doctor. One of the things he wants me to do is walk on a treadmill. Nothing fancy, just walk. Since a treadmill is constantly moving backwards, Shane says walking on it is a little different than walking normally. You have work a little hard to maintain a consistent pace. For those of us that walk like drunken sailors, weaving back and forth to maintain our balance, that means I have to work hard to keep up. Normally, if I get off balance, I will naturally take a step to one side to compensate. On a treadmill, I can't do that because I would get behind. So that was my mission, start walking, increase the pace until it gets challenging, and then walk for a few minutes.

So, tonight, during my regularly scheduled time, I went to the BYU gym to do my workout. At first I tried walking on the treadmill while holding onto the bars. Of course, that is pretty easy and doesn't require a lot of balance. So after a while I let go and started walking on my own power. I got myself up to about 2.5 miles/hour and I walked for about a minute. Then I took a step with my right leg and didn't get my toe up enough. Of course, that made me stumble a little. Unfortunately, on a treadmill you don't have time to stumble. So I grabbed the bars. I caught myself to keep from falling, but my legs were still on the treadmill and moving backwards at a speed of 2.5 miles/hour. Soon enough my feet reached the end of the treadmill and fell off and I found myself hanging on in a superman position over the treadmill.

As I held on, I noticed right in front of my nose was a little magnet with a tether and instructions saying: "Emergency shutoff, attach lanyard when in use." The idea is that if you fall like that or get behind, the magnet pulls off and shuts off the treadmill. Because most people are too cool and too coordinated for such things, the lanyard had been wrapped around the bar to keep it out of the way; so I hadn't noticed it.

I managed to step up onto the sides of the treadmill and walk my way back up into a standing position. I stopped the treadmill and then looked around to see how many other people in the gym were laughing at me. Fortunately, most people had already had their laugh and moved on by the time I looked around, so I can pretend that no one noticed. Needless to say, I decided that it would be less embarrassing to clip the uncool lanyard to my shirt than to offer a repeat performance. Fortunately, the next 3 minutes went off without a hitch. The good news is that I made it for a total of about 4 minutes on the treadmill at a pace of about 2.5 miles/hour. Nothing dramatic, but it seemed like good progress to me. And remember, that was without holding on, or using a cane or a walker. And if my math skills are as good as they ought to be after 6 years, that means I walked almost 900 feet all on my own.

They're the expensive kind: unshelled

As most of you know, I have been living in a shell for the last four months. I didn't mind it too much at first, but lately it has been driving me nuts. Whenever I come home, the first thing I do is sit down on my chair so I can get the shell off of me. The smell that comes out of it is terrible. In fact, when Ayden climbs up on my lap, she usually comments: "Daddy, you smell like shell". Needless to say I have been anxious to get it off.

Yesterday I had an appointment at Dr. Reichman's office. I was very prepared for the terrible news that I would have to stay in this shell on for another month. However, when I went in for X-rays, the tech told me that the Dr.'s office had ordered a flexion and extension test. For the test, I get out of my shell and take two extra X-rays: one with me leaning forward (flexion), and one with me leaning back (extension). I knew from previous visits to Dr. Reichman's office that they only order this test if they are considering getting you out of the shell, since it can be dangerous to do if you aren't ready yet. So I got excited.

The result was mixed however. The fusion is not completely solid, but it is doing really well. The good news is that I am done with this shell. The bad news is that I get to trade it for a thoraco-lumbar corset. That's right, I am leaving my shell for a corset. Ironically, as I became more annoyed with the shell, I started calling it my bra. So I am trading my bra for a corset. Unfortunately, the switch means that I get some extra therapy and I get to purchase a corset, hence, the doctor's visit was the expensive kind: unshelled.

The corset supposedly only goes from hips to belly button-ish. It is also soft, so it is more of a support and less of a brace. The idea is that it will keep me from really messing things up but should be more comfortable and will allow me to ease into using my stomach muscles again. I have an appointment for tomorrow (Thursday, Nov. 6) to get fitted, so I am still stuck in this shell for another day and a half. But tomorrow is redemption day.

Prognosis: I have an appointment just after the first of the year. They will check one more set of X-rays and if everything is good, I should be out of the shell and pronounced whole. In other words, the fusion should be solid and the doctor will give me the OK to continue normal activities and I won't have to wear anything special.

The force is strong with you young (Sky)walker

My new walker arrived today. I guess I owe the good folks at InvaCare a thank you for deciding to honor their manufacturer's warranty. It worked out well in the end. I used the cane for a while, and I probably still will to some extent. So now I know I can do that. I got some good exercise from it. Plus, the new walker is taller, folds up smaller, and is a cooler color. Hard to go wrong.

I had therapy today and my right quad has again made some pretty impressive progress. I am able to do some serious gravity defy-ing these days when I am kicking out. Still not all the way, or even most of the way, back to normal, but we are making progress. Also, the neuropathic pain I get in my right leg seems to occur now only when something makes contact with my leg (in the shower, when I put my pants on, etc.) which my therapist says is probably a good sign that sensation is slowly returning. We shall see...

No more presents

Ayden told me today that I can't have any more presents. I asked her what she meant and she started listing off all the presents I have been getting lately: the shower bench, the toilet seat, the grab bar, the wheel chair, the walker, the cane, the left foot gas pedal, etc. As far as she is concerned, these are all presents. I asked her if she means that I don't get any more presents on my birthday and Christmas and she said: "no, you can have some presents on your birthday and Christmas but you can't get more presents when you want them." So that settles it. No more gimp gadgets for me.

Unfortunately for Ayden, I am supposedly getting a new walker. I basically had to threaten InvaCare with a law suit to get it, but it looks like they are going to ship one. I shouldn't speak to soon though since I haven't actually had a confirmation yet. In the meantime I have been using my cane a lot. I prefer it over the walker, but I probably should still be using the walker until the shell comes off, just to be safe. I am also not supposed to be lifting or carrying so the walker comes in handy going to and from school when I have my backpack. However, I have my next appointment on Nov. 4 - just five days shy of the 4 month mark - and I am really hoping that they let me take it off at that appointment. Wendy and I had our anniversary and we had a great time. I amazed her with my incredible stamina and my awesome walking and wheeling skills (we took the cane and the wheelchair). You can check out some fun pictures at the family blog.

The News Story

I received a DVD today from the videographer that shot footage of the accident and wrote the follow-up story. He gave my the original TV version of the follow-up story and the footage he shot from the accident. I posted the news story on YouTube and I am embedding it here so you can view it.



I have to admit that watching the original footage was kind of hard. When it is short clips in a news story with the narrative and everything it seems dramatized to the point of not being real. Watching the segments of video he shot with the original sound made it seem more authentic. It brought back some unpleasant memories. I had forgotten, until I watched it, how it felt to hit the pavement and how I felt while I lay in the street. Even Wendy said it was hard to watch and Ayden got a little upset by the small part that she saw. It isn't graphic, but it's hard to watch knowing it is me.

The original footage is pretty long and pretty big so I haven't posted it. I suppose if there is enough demand I can take some clips out and post them. Or local residents can just watch it the next time they see me with my laptop.

3 Months Broken

Well, today makes three months since the accident. At this point I am outpacing my equipment by leaps and bounds. I got my wheelchair but one of the handles is broken. The wheelchair company wants me to take the handle off, pay to ship it to them, and then when they get it they will mail me a new one so that I can put it together. They shipped it broken. It makes me want to just return the whole thing and say forget it.

Tonight my walker broke. And I don't mean the handle or something. I mean the metal frame snapped clean in half. I was shocked. It supposedly has a 300 pound weight limit, which is substantially more than my current 210 lbs. Wendy taped it back together to try and keep it working until we can get a replacement. I have posted a picture since it looks pretty hilarious. If I didn't draw stares at school just with a walker, I certainly will now.

Meanwhile, I am progressing well now. I went so long without any progress in my right leg that I started getting nervous. Now my quad has gotten a lot stronger. I got it off the table doing leg lifts the other day and I have caught myself several times when my knee buckles. I just hope that my walker/wheelchair/cane will last long enough for me to recover. What a joke!