This is a story with many layers. I submit it as a tribute to our knitblog and medical communities. Much of this was dictated by Mr. Etherknitter, who rejected the idea of co-blogging. I think he is shy.
We love to ski. It is exhilarating. By definition, it takes place in mountains. It turns the cold, dreary drudgery of winter into a pure, bright joy. Just read my previous post. (Foreboding music queues.)
On a beautiful, groomed slope at Deer Valley, Mr. Etherknitter and I were making simple, happy turns. It was stockinette stitch, if you will.
He hears a loud scritch in the snow, a yell. Impact. He is thrown forward 30 feet. Glasses and goggles flying, he spins to a stop. I had stopped to rest, and saw a chilling sight up the slope. A pile of skis and poles, in one spot, and a skier lying on the ground, black jacket, and tell-tale red boots.
Slowly, he moves, calls me on the cell.
"Are you okay?" "I don't know. Something is wrong with my knee. No. Not my knee. My leg is broken." "i'm coming up." The cell phone goes back in the fanny pack.
I'm screaming at him from downslope. "OPEN OR CLOSED?" "OPEN OR CLOSED?" Closed means the bone hasn't cut through the skin, and we can get it fixed in Boston. Open means the bone is through the skin. The clock starts ticking at the moment of injury, and it MUST be fixed within six hours to reduce the risk of infection.
"Open!" he yells down.
"FUCKFUCKFUCK" I scream. I see heads turn. They aren't the ones whose life has been irrevocably altered.
I climb up to him, uphill. I now completely understand oxygen debt. At first I hiked in skis, then I stopped, took them off, dug the toes of my boots into the steep slope, and stopped every three steps to try and breath. It took an eternity of ten minutes to reach him.
Ski patrol got there first. I can see as I climb that he is sitting up. That means his neck is okay. His head is probably okay.
With far more composure than I ever thought possible, I sat in the snow next to the assailant. A young man, sixteen years old, lying winded a few feet away. I don't yell. I don't berate. I just tell him:
"Now listen. You need to learn from this accident. You have to understand that you have altered my husband's life and my life for the foreseeable future, and you have made it into a nightmare. I want you to understand what you have done and use it to learn. I hope you heal well."
I really didn't, but I also didn't want ski patrol to shoo me away before I had a chance to make my point.
They splint Mr. Etherknitter's leg, bring him down to a waiting snowmobile. They take us to the ambulance at the base. I ride in front, he is in the back having an IV started. The ambulance crew puts in the backboard that was forgotten by ski patrol. I call back, "How is his oxygen saturation? Is he okay? Does he have neck pain? How are you, dear?" He is stable.
I feel so helpless. I have to find a surgeon who won't screw up his leg, and an anesthesiologist who won't kill him. I don't know anyone in the medical community here. I make a cellphone call to the chief of my department. His secretary says he is in a meeting and unavailable. "Missy, this is an emergency. I have to speak with him NOW."
He calls the chief of the anesthesia department at the University of Utah. I start hearing the same surgeon's name from multiple lips. I throw the dice, commit myself to the bet.
This is the part not for the squeamish. Really. It will take me a very long time to learn how to live with what I saw next. The staff takes the gauze off his sock. They cut the sock. His tibia has exploded through the front of his leg, created a six inch by three inch gash, with bone sticking out. He can't see yet what I see, and agrees to let them take off the ski boot. I tell him NO. I ask the nurse to give him morphine first. Several attempts at pulling the boot yields a dose of 20mg that finally has some effect. The boot is pulled off by SIX people. They are very good at what they do, but he almost passes out. As they take the boot off, and tip it to free his heel, blood pours out onto the stretcher from the boot. My sweet man. I can't let myself cry yet.
The chief of anesthesia comes down to the ER. He arranges for a wonderful clinician to take care of Mr. Etherknitter. He rearranges an extremely busy OR schedule and makes it possible for the operation to start before the timer runs out. I meet the surgeon. Young. Brash. From New York, and quoting data, studies, experience. Exuding confidence. I like him. GO.
It was the longest, loneliest, bleakest three hours of my life in the postsurgical waiting room. I couldn't call anyone because I couldn't cope with MY response OR theirs. Complete strangers saw the look on my face and reached out. When they found out I was alone, they hugged me. I was an unusual sight in the waiting room: ski jacket, ski pants and ski boots.
The surgeon and the chief of anesthesia rematerialize together. "Boy that was a pain in the ass to fix."
"What do you mean, 'a pain in the ass'?"
"It was a PAIN in the ass. He has really good muscle tissue and strong bone. I had to open another incision proximally (higher up) and reach in and yank it into place."
He described what he did. A large metal rod spans the whole tibia. Lots of screws. Complexities involving location of fracture relative to tendons, and what the limitations were. And are. Now, I can only cross my fingers, and trust in the Higher Ether. It's going to take months to heal, and to find out what we need to deal with next. He answers every single question, and I am satisfied.
So far, a bad story. A long, cautionary tale. But it's not the real story here.
Deep breath.
Mr. Etherknitter is trying to take it in stride. (His pun.) He dislikes being helpless and dependent. And there's a possibiity that future surgery may be necessary.
I start to understand PTSD. It will take some careful thought and an effort of will to go back to the slopes.
What I've really come to appreciate is our community. It was powerful in fun times (Rhinebeck, SPA, local get-togethers), but incredible in a crisis. You can't feel anything close to worthy. The condo didn't have internet access, so I went to the local internet cafe, and sent off three emails. A tidal wave of support and love swept over me, enfolded me, helped me.
Cassie made me take care of myself, talked me down, set me straight. Juno helped me feel normal. Claudia stepped in with sympathy and professional opinion. Marcia lent me her Park City son to help me move from the condo to the hospital room, a drive of about 20 miles. Margene opened her heart and herself to whatever I might need. The email support has been stunning in sympathy and generosity. Mr. Etherknitter was moved to help write this story.
Tom, son of Marcia, chauffeur extraordinaire, below. He actually managed to stuff a week's worth of ski luggage into a Mazda RX-7. Amazing.
Once you look up from your feet, you see the sun. I can't begin to list my saviours. Our knitbloggers. The hospital staff. Our neighbors. Even the ski resort.
So today, it all seems feasible. I plan to sit with the DH while he snoozes, and I knit. He likes that.
I am so impressed that you had the presence of mind to speak to that young man the way you did. That is just incredible.
Just over a year ago my mother fell in her driveway and broke her knee and elbow. At first they said she didn't have to have surgery, then they said she did. The hospital she went to for the operation turned out to be a nightmare. The healing was a long haul and she was so brave. I was living hundreds and hundreds of miles away and it is always terrifying when the people you love most -- young, healthy, vibrant people -- find themselves in such a situation.
Best wishes and much healing to you both.
Posted by: Rachel | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 07:19 AM
Warm thought of healing and good energy being sent to you and mr. ether.
Posted by: Janet | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 07:25 AM
I am so sorry this happened. It is amazing how quickly the course of your entire life can change. You and Mr. E hang in there. All us chickens out here are sending healing vibes your way.
Posted by: Alma | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 07:30 AM
(((((hugs))))))to you both........what a story..........
Posted by: christine | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 07:36 AM
I hope Mr. Ether heals quickly and completely!
Posted by: Wendy | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 07:43 AM
Oh Laurie, I was so sad to hear of Mr. Ethernet's accident and for you to be so far away from home. The blogging community it so wonderful at supporting each other in times of need and I am happy to be part of that community that is wrapping themselves around both of you in the spirit of love and healing.
Keep the faith!!
Posted by: Kim | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 07:46 AM
Amazing how knit bloggers come together!!!
Best of luck to Mr. Ether for his recovery.
Hugs to both of you.
Posted by: Sarah HB | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 07:55 AM
Holey mackeral how awful! Here's to a speedy and full recovery.
Posted by: Michele | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 08:09 AM
You and Mr. Etherknitter are in my thoughts and prayers.
Posted by: Reagan | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 08:29 AM
Laurie, Underneath all this horror is a story of a really nice marriage. You have that to hang onto in a month or two when this starts to seem endless. Remember to sleep, and remember how many friends you have. Thinking of you --
Posted by: Elizabeth D | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 08:50 AM
Delurking to wish you both well and Mr Etherknitter's speedy recovery. Watching a loved one suffering is hard indeed. Please take care of yourself, too.
Posted by: may | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 09:22 AM
Ughhhhh. I grew up ski racing and my dad's a Dr and the one thing I cannot handle at all are compound fractures. The thought of them freak me out. You handled yourself amazingly well. It's so hard to be alone in a situation like that.
Ughhhhhhhhhh. Hope he's doing better today.
Posted by: Scout | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 09:57 AM
Holy cow, lady. Warm thoughts and healing wishes coming your way.
Posted by: Janice in GA | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 10:32 AM
I am so sorry! I am grateful for all the things that could have happened that DIDN'T as I know you are, but that doesn't make it suck any less. My prayers are with you and I know your blogging community will continue to lift you up and through this long process.
Posted by: AmyDe | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 10:33 AM
Well wishes - take care of yourself. Thank goodness for the blessing of the blogging community - so many angels out there helping out in a big time of need. Thank frigging goodness. I'm here for the first time via Margene. Sorry for the rotten accident, but glad you had so many resources for help nearby.
Posted by: Laura | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 10:41 AM
Wow! Ouch! Can't think of anything to say, just Wow! I will continue to read your blog to keep up to date with Mr. Etherknitter and that poor leg! Wow!
Sheri in GA
Posted by: Sheri | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 10:58 AM
I couldn't bring myself to read all the comments, as my heart was already breaking for the both of you. I am another distant friend of Margene's, who followed her instructions to read your story. I went through a very similar situation almost a year ago, when my dear son, 26, had a very bad crash resulting in plate and pins. My 21-year old daughter was with me, and such accidents are frequent in Tahoe, where he lived and we were visiting, but the fears and the agonizing wait all came back, reading your story. You are in my thoughts and prayers, and I will visit back frequently. He did not have the same threat of infection (his femur, reduced to child's blocks, was closed). We did go back to the slopes this season, and he walks pretty much normally; hang in there.
Posted by: Birdsong | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 10:59 AM
I'm holding you in my heart today - that's what we agnostics do when we would be praying if we were different people. Positive brain waves. Positive brain waves.
Good luck travelling. Hang in.
Love.
Posted by: juno | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 11:05 AM
Wow, just wow.
I just wanted to chime in with even more best wishes for a speedy recovery for Mr. Etherknitter and hugs for both of you.
Posted by: Michelle | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 11:15 AM
De-lurking to send you my best wishes for your husband's speedy recovery (and for you to stay strong and well during this crisis). Thank goodness for all the amazing support you're getting. It's always gratifying to see how supportive and wonderful people can be in times of need.
Posted by: regina | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 11:16 AM
Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm amazed at your composure through the whole thing (especially with the child who caused it), and I wish you much comfort and support.
I hope Mr. Etherknitter heals well & quickly.
Posted by: Cordelia | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 11:17 AM
Dear Laurie, I just came over from Margene's blog -- what a horrible accident, and what wonderful heart-touching caring around you both. I send prayers and wishes for a speedy, complete recovery. So glad you have found so much support. Many (((hugs))).
Posted by: Pat K | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 11:48 AM
Oh. My. God. That's so scary and so bad that I don't even know where to start.
Do they know why it broke? There are so many scary reasons why. I hope it's just one of those odd medical things.
I will be praying for both of you. I hope you can just keep knitting.
Posted by: Carina | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 11:55 AM
Thank you for writing about this experience...my prayers will be with both of you through the next few months. Reading this has also helped me to connect with, on a much deeper level, how very much I love my own daredevil athlete husband & how much I want never for anything like this to happen to him...I don't know if I could take it. It is extremely hard to find an appropriate way for the tender human psyche to assimilate experiences such as this. I think of when my dog, Mr. P died, & all the things attendant on that experience of being fully present for the whole thing...there are times when I'm grateful for having been there for him, but other times when the memory of the reality just sears my heart. So...you will be in my prayers for good healing just as much as Mr. Etherknitter will be.
Posted by: Johanna | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 12:07 PM
Margene sent me here and I just want to send my prayer for a complete and swift healing!
Posted by: Lana | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 12:43 PM
Just stopping by from Cassie's blog. I'm blown away by your composure on the slopes. As a former avid snowboarder (a responsible one, Promise!!) — who's been subject to injuries far more minor on the slopes — It's one thing when it was you, or you caught en edge... it's another when the incident was caused by another person's a.ignorance, b.inexpierience, or c.irresponsibility or d.all of the above. Reading your story made my blood boil. I'm so impressed with your composure.
Best wishes for a speedy, quick and full recovery for mr.etherknitter, and the peace of mind for you.
Posted by: cynthia | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 12:51 PM
Big hugs and wishes for a speedy recovery. What a lousy thing to happen on an otherwise lovely trip.
Posted by: lisa Co. Springs | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 01:25 PM
Oh god, Laurie, I am so sorry to read this.... I really admire your strength through all of this, and all my best wishes to your husband for his recovery. Hang in there.
Posted by: Jackie | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 01:35 PM
Oh Laurie, I'm so sorry. How awful and scary and lifechanging. I wish I could help in some way! Hugs and best wishes to you and Mr E. All of us here at home will be thinking of you, and like Juno said, holding you in our hearts.
Posted by: Martha | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 01:38 PM
Holy Cow. The PTSD thing will be an ever-more thing - although it'll get way easier as time goes on. Many healing vibes to you both....what a scary event. And wowza, your composure to the assailant is something.
Posted by: Sara | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 01:40 PM
My thoughts and prayers are being sent your way and will stay with your throughout your ordeal.
Posted by: Cathy | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 02:18 PM
I am so sorry for what you and Mr. Etherknitter have been through while thankful that it wasn't worse. I'm so thankful that other knitters were able to help you out as well.
I'm praying for a complete recovery, physically and mentally.
Posted by: Kris | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 02:18 PM
I like the U of U hospital, so I think you're in good hands. Of course, I've only seen the nephrology section of it, but STILL! A speedy recover to your darling!
Posted by: Kit | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 02:26 PM
Just to wave good vibes at you both. Get home safe, and good healing. (And from the sounds of your husband, you won't have that much bedside knitting time, he'll be up and antsy soon.)
Posted by: susoolu | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 02:28 PM
More healing thoughts from my direction! Take good care of yourself too, and if you need anything I can provide, just ask! The knitblog universe is truly amazing.
Posted by: Judy | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 03:30 PM
My very best thoughts and wishes to your husband for a complete recovery.
Unfortunately, Laurie, I have had occasion to feel that knitblog love in the past three weeks as you have. Powerful and good, and amazingly strong, isn't it? My eyes burn with tears and overwhelming gratitude when I think of some of these people and how they've buoyed my spirits and propped me up at times.
My very best to you, too.
Posted by: Vicki | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 03:36 PM
Well wishes for a speedy recovery. I got all choked up reading that. I hope it all goes well.
Posted by: Monica | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 03:41 PM
Hoping for a quick and easy recovery for Mr. Ether.
Posted by: Kathy | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 04:05 PM
Delurking to send healthy healing vibes to you and Mr. I'm so sorry to hear your Utah adventure took such a dissappointing turn. You don't know me but I live right down the street from the U hospital; if you need a ride somewhere, internet access or someone to bring you a snack please email me and let me know.
Posted by: Erin | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 04:37 PM
I'm so sorry you had a skiing disaster on your vacation. I hope your husband heals fast and well.
My husband is a ski-patroller. He would have cut that 16-year old's lift ticket off pronto. I think what you said to him was very appropriate. I don't know if I could have been that reasonable to him in the moment of crisis.
I hope the ski-patrollers got your husband down the mountain while minimizing his pain. I know after taking care of injuries like that my husband wonders how the victim is doing for several days afterwards but he rarely hears any news.
Remember to take care of yourself also. Best Wishes, Sue
Posted by: Sue | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 04:53 PM
I'm here for the first time via Margene, and I am sending you all the best wishes I have that Mr Ether will make a good recovery. Hallelujah that you had good resources to help find a truly-qualified surgeon. You were amazingly restrained in talking to the kid who caused all this. Blessings!
Posted by: CatBookMom | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 06:28 PM
Oh, my - I'm so sorry you and Mr. Etherknitter are going through this. Healing thoughts are being sent from San Francisco. You've both been through quite an ordeal. I hope Mr. Etherknitter is feeling better soon.
Posted by: Sara | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 06:28 PM
Your composure and grace in this crisis are impressive.
Here's to a speedy, uneventful recovery for the hubster and a virtual hug for you both!
Posted by: Debi | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 06:32 PM
Good luck and may Mr. Etherknitter have a quick recovery.
Posted by: Lola LB | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 07:04 PM
Hang in there! Best wishes for a speedy recovery. I hope things are on the mend quickly for him.
Posted by: Heather | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 08:26 PM
hey laurie, i hear via marcia's blog, that you made it home. keep knitting! and take good care of yourself, as well as mr ether. no need for you to drop from inattention to yourself
Posted by: minnie | Monday, March 20, 2006 at 10:08 PM
Laurie,
I hope your trip home was uneventful and that Mr. E is doing better. Our visits in SLC overlapped and I'm truly sorry I didn't get to meet you both. I heard the tale from Margene Sunday night when I arrived at their house preparing to fly out on Monday. Am sending you all good thoughts for a speedy healing for Mr. E. and for respite and ease for you.
many, many hugs.
Posted by: caroline | Tuesday, March 21, 2006 at 01:31 AM
Just popped over from Margene's blog to send healing thoughts and best wishes for a speedy recovery for Mr E. Isn't it funny how in a crisis the mind just goes into overdrive and gets you through until the immediate danger is over? The same thing happened to me when DH bust his knee when we were windsurfing in the middle of our favourite bay. It was only later that I had to stop and think how I managed to get him, me and two sets of equipment out the water and up the beach that I realised how bad things could have been.
Posted by: janine | Tuesday, March 21, 2006 at 04:05 AM
I'm so sorry this happened to you, and I really admire how you dealt with such a horrible situation. That said, please remember to take care of yourself, you can't help your husband unless you help yourself. The heart sends blood to itself first and then oxygenates the rest of the body and right now you are your husband's heart.
Posted by: Rhiannon | Tuesday, March 21, 2006 at 11:20 AM
I hope things are getting better! And you know, I was thinking, you should really change that picture in your top corner. After Mr. E's accident, it gives off a whole different vibe, now! Thinking of you....
Posted by: --Deb | Tuesday, March 21, 2006 at 03:08 PM