May 6, 2011

Hugh, My Sweet Husband...Update On Our Lives

More recently, happier times. On the left, is Hugh, Me, and Our Best Friend Gregg.

Below: Picture speaks for itself.

Me looking rather tired, old, and hurt. Just happy he's alive. Picture taken at rehab.

My sweet husband in his wheelchair at rehab.

Many of you know, my husband was nearly killed last June, 2010 in a near fatal accident. I thought since with the one year anniversary of the worst day in my life is nearing upon us, I would update you on what has been going on.

He was hit by what we were now being told a speeding motorist who was trying to "make the light" while my husband was making a turn and hit my husband on my husband's motorcycle. He suffered a complete broken pelvis, internal bleeding, broken right shoulder and right arm, causing permanent nerve damage, most broken ribs, broken lower back, broken right femur (thigh bone) left knee and fibula, broken right toes, a paralyzed diaphragm, spinal nerve damage, and minor brain/head injury and permanent nerve damage in right arm, left lower arm, both legs. He has had 3 surgeries with 3 more procedures including 2 more surgeries needing to be done still. As time goes by we are still finding out more and more medical problems, and "conditions" resulting from this accident.

I had been blogging religiously about his condition while he was in the hospital for those 3 months and 10 days, every single day, and felt the need to pour my heart out and just do an update.

While we still struggle every single day, he with physical and mental pain, I suffer terrible with PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). Thank God our daughter is busy with normal teen senior high school stuff such as the prom, graduation, school work and her job.

Since the last update on my blog, we continue to find out more and more about the severity of Hugh's physical damage. He has had weekly therapy from normal physical therapy, to balance therapy, to lymph-edema therapy. He continues to get infections in his toes and has had 3 *surgeries* on them to remove the nails and infection. This is a continual thing for him, and eventually will lose his toenails.

As for his walking and the use of his right arm, it's very limited. He walks with the aid of 2 canes because his balance is so off because of the permanent nerve damage in both legs. He can only raise his right arm up to 45 degree angle, not to mention BOTH arms he suffers numbness and cannot use a pen to write or grasp small items very well.

You would think he would get relief from pain by elevating his legs, however, not the case. It makes the pain worse. So when he goes to bed, he is up 2 hours later and up for several hours then back to bed. This makes our nights somewhat long. People wonder why I have to have a nap in the afternoon.

2 weeks Hugh will be seen by a world renown neurologist, which our insurance does not pay for, and the only neurologist that appears that can possibly help Hugh. We shall see.

I will continue to get help with a my little friends Zoloft and Ativan, and my dearest girlfriends and family.

On a whole, Hugh is doing wonderful, he's alive, just many day to day struggles. I still have people say to me "well at least he's alive" or "at least he can do this or do that". Sometimes I want to rip their head off, chew it up and slam it back down their throats. Yes, it's true, yes, he is "still alive" and we thank God everyday for sparing his life. Not sure why I get so mad when people say that to me, maybe because it's not fair that we are going through all this shit and we are the one's suffering.

I'll leave you with my favorite poem:

Don't Tell Me...
Don't tell me that you understand, don't tell me that you know,
Don't tell me that I will survive, how I will surely grow.
Don't tell me this is just a test, that I am truly blessed,
That I am chosen for this task, apart from all the rest.
Don't come at me with answers that can only come from me,
Don't tell me how my grief will pass, that I will soon be free.
Don't stand in pious judgment of the bonds I must untie,
Don't tell me how to suffer, don't tell me how to cry.
My life is filled with selfishness, my pain is all I see,
But I need you, I need your love, unconditionally.
Accept me in my ups and downs, I need someone to share,
Just hold my hand and let me cry, and say,
"My friend, I really do care."


Anonymous said...

I truly understand the horror of the situation!

But I have a personal reason for not loving motorcyles, pretty similar to what you have written.

Does he still do motorcyles? Do you?

I can't help it. I'm sorry.

But it's putting a very frail and breakable body out there in the same lanes as drunks, big huge cars that people can't truely see out of, and a barrage of other things that can take that body and destroy it.

So that's my question. :) Best of luck to you guys. :)

Sweet Cherry Vintage Lingerie said...

No, I never rode motorcycles, and my husband will not ride again, not only because of the risk of killing himself, he is physically disabled and cannot anyhow.

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