So much has happened since 3 weeks ago. I’m still trying to
piece things together with the help of my parents and Ash. At first I was not
keen to share my experience. Although there were some good moments, a lot of it
was an awful and frightening nightmare for me, particularly in such a fragile
and vulnerable state. I feel it was even worse for my parents, Ash and closest
friends, who spent extensive hours by my bedside, sleep deprived and worried
but still managing the strength to stay positive and care for me. So now, after time and hearing stories from
others who went through similar and more serious injuries, I feel it is helpful
to share in the hope it could potentially benefit someone else going through a
similar experience. It is also good for me to be able to look back and see how
far I have come.
My season so far had
not gone to plan. A back injury obtained in the second round of the National
Cup series put me out for the rest of the series, and by the time the National
Championships came around I was still out of contention. Luckily for me, I had other
options and I set my sights on two races that had respectable prize money and I
had a good chance at winning, the ‘Skyline Warrior’ and the ‘2W Gravity Enduro’.
The first race, ‘Skyline Warrior’, was a new downhill course next to the luge.
The track itself was handsomely sculpted, smooth and fast, with impressive
berms and big jumps. I had borrowed a bike for the race, and during practice was
trying to psych myself up for the jumps - the biggest one had a 6 metre gap. Luckily
for me, I had my friend Kris, from Cycle Obsession, there and he took the time
to show me the jumps and let me follow him in. I was on top of the world, with
a goofy grin permanently plastered on my face from the exhilaration of flying
through the air, especially now as I was considered one of the favourites to
win. Here is a link to a short video showing some of the track http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ke-ITYpFuyI
It happened on the last practice run on the last jump. I was
wanting to go fast and get some ‘big air’, so coming into the jump I preloaded
and jumped. My inexperience and ill judgement meant that when I jumped, because
I was clipped in, the back of the bike came up while the front stayed down – in
a spectacular endo. I remember thinking “oh shit I’m going to crash” and “I
can’t damage the bike” before I hit the ground. I don’t remember how I landed,
but I immediately felt my left hip pop out and my left leg go completely numb
with pins and needles and pain shooting down into the foot. Luckily for me, my
hip relocated after rolling over, which I later read is something that is
difficult to do after dislocation.
The First Aid response was awesome. I was immediately
surrounded by people securing my head, neck and body, while asking where it
hurt. I’m not sure what I responded, but I remember that my main concern was
that I was blocking the track for other competitors, limiting their last
practice of that jump. I was prepared to crawl out the way if I had to. Although
my hip was now back where it should be, the pain in it and into my leg was
crippling and I couldn’t walk. I was carried off to the side of the track and
given oxygen, as I began feeling dizzy and faint.
Ash had just arrived in Rotorua and was at the bike shop
when he received a call. “You better get here quick, Rae has fallen off and
might be headed to hospital.”
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| Injured on the sideline but still smiling for the camera |
I had made the decision with the help of the people surrounding
me to not wait for an ambulance or Ash - the pain was increasing as the shock
wore off and I wanted to get to hospital as soon as possible. I was lifted into a ute by four strong guys
and driven through the bumpy grass paddock to pick up two other injured guys.
We then had an agonising wait for one of the guys to find his phone before we
could leave. To finish it off, after the long wait, we drove through the
roughest road works and speed bumps I've ever seen.
At last we reached the hospital. I was so desperate to get
in that I couldn't wait for the hospital orderly to help, so Ash ended up just
carrying me to the wheelchair. Now
things started to happen. I was pushed into A&E, went straight through a
very full waiting room and was put onto a bed and given an IV line where
morphine was immediately administered. Relief at last! I was lucky to have Ash
and my good friend Janine to keep me company that evening. All the x-rays taken
came back normal and fracture-free, which was a relief to us all. Now it was
time to get discharged, which I could only do if I could walk. After three
failed attempts of the doctor to get me up and walking due to almost fainting,
the decision was made at 11pm to admit me over night and reassess things in the
morning.
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| Rotorua A&E: Janine & me |
My parents had driven up from Wellington that night after
receiving a phone call from Ash - “Rae has fallen off her bike, we are in
hospital but she is ok”. That morning I was taken down for a CT scan, which
unfortunately showed a significant displaced fracture to my acetabulum (part of
the pelvis that forms the hip socket).
The CT also showed a path of destruction where I had dislocated my hip,
as well as chipped off bony fragments floating around inside the joint. I was
warned that there was a high chance I would need surgery which unfortunately is
one of the more complicated orthopaedic operations. This is due to difficulties
accessing the bone and because of the close proximity to major blood vessels,
nerves and vital organs. For these reasons, the orthopaedic surgeon did not
want to do my surgery and it was agreed that I would go to Wellington Hospital.
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| My support crew: Mum & Dad |
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| Some of the scrapes and bruises |
At first, the Rotorua surgeon wanted me to get up walking on
crutches and to increase my sitting endurance from 5min to 5hours so that I
could drive down to Wellington. I started to walk myself to the toilet, but in
the end needed someone to hold my leg to limit the pain and the horrible
clicking and grinding feeling with the sensation that my hip will pop out
again. Luckily I had a very good nurse who took one look at me and said there
was no way I could sit in a car for that long. She organised a transfer on the
air ambulance.
On Monday night (4th day in hospital), a crew
flew up from Nelson to pick me up from Rotorua and flew me to Wellington
hospital. I felt like a VIP, with my own private plane and crew. Because I
lived in Nelson, the Nelson team had to take care of me. It was a small plane
with two pilots, an air nurse and me on a stretcher still hooked up with morphine.
Wellington hospital was a big contrast to Rotorua. As soon
as the surgeon saw the CT scan, I was put on bed rest and placed into traction
to stabilize my pelvis and help with the pain. That was the first time I cried,
as the realization hit me that this is serious and I might never ride my bike
again. I was only in traction 2 days, but it was demoralizing being unable to
move or wash myself and having to use a bedpan. I lost all my dignity and
modesty.
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| Wellington Hospital: Setting up the traction |
My surgeon, although lacking some interpersonal skills, was
a great surgeon and before I knew it I was saying goodbye to Ash, Mum and Dad
while being carted off for theatre and put under general anaesthesia. For on-going
pain relief, they were going to put in a nerve block or an epidural while I was
still under.
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| Pelvis X-ray: plate & 6 screws |
My next memory is of waking up in an excruciating amount of
pain. The pain was centred at my hip but rippled through my whole body. The
nerve block (an injection of anaesthesia into the spine) was meant to limit
pain after surgery for up to 24 hours, but for some reason it had not worked
for me. I was in absolute agony. The Pain Team, made up doctors, anaesthetists
and nurses, kept pumping drug after drug into me, but nothing seemed to help.
At one stage, I remember a Pain Doctor saying to me, “If you had no pain, the
amount of drugs I’ve given would mean that you would have been unconscious ages
ago.”
At one stage, Ash came in to join me. My parents and Ash had
been waiting a long 7 and half hours for me. After enquiring, they found out I
was still in the recovery room due to issues with pain management. Ash was due
to catch the ferry back to Nelson soon, so they sent him in to spend some time
with me. Ash told me later that he barely recognised me when he saw me. My
whole face apparently looked plastic and puffy. I don’t think he talked much, but
just sat by holding my hand.
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| Before surgery |
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| After surgery: Looking plastic and puffy |
I was finally released and wheeled back to my room, where my
parents were waiting. I looked so terrible that mum stayed with me the whole
night. I was on a PCA (patient controlled analgesia) where I could push a
button every 5 minutes to get a hit of morphine. Problem was I was in so much
pain and too groggy that I wasn’t capable of pushing the button. Mum ended up
sitting there the whole night, sneakily pushing the button every 5 minutes for
me. I didn’t sleep much that night, but we both made it through and in the
morning the ‘Pain team’ came to the rescue. I was very teary that morning with both
the pain and relief that something was going to get done about it. The initial
dislocation and fracture felt like a tickle compared to what this pain was. A
concoction of strong drugs was put together that finally made things bearable.
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| Pale and in pain but still trying to smile |
That day was a blurred. Dad came in at some stage to take
over care.
The following night was the most traumatic and horrific
moment of my whole life. Dad was pushing the button every 5 minutes, so that the
pain was controlled enough for me to get some sleep. At around 4 am, the nurse
came in and told us that I wasn’t breathing enough. Despite being on supplementary
oxygen, the oxygen levels in my blood had dropped because I was so drugged up
and my drive to breath had reduced. She was concerned about the effect of the PCA
and instructed us not to press the button for an hour, which we agreed to. My
pain would previously get harsh at about 4 minutes and I would have to wait an
agonising minute for the button to be pressed. Now to wait a whole hour was
going to be intolerable. I gritted my teeth and tried to concentrate on my
breathing to increase my oxygen levels. The pain was at a whole new level, but
somehow we got through. We called the nurse and she said we could use the PCA
again, but unknown to us she had actually turned it off. I eventually started
crying- the first time I have ever cried due to pain- and asked for her to call
the pain team for advice. She called them and came back saying that they agreed
with her and gave me some ibuprofen. She
said that if the pain hadn’t reduced in half an hour, she would call them
again. I silently cried to myself. I was being tested to my absolute limit
waiting for that long 30 minutes to pass. It took every ounce of strength I
had. After half an hour, we called for the nurse again. She came in and lied,
telling us it had only been 10 minutes and to keep on waiting. I had used
everything I had and had nothing left. I remember wishing my dad would just
smother me with a pillow and put an end to this torture. I then had a full blown asthma/ panic attack.
I couldn’t breathe. I was aware of making a lot of noise waking up everyone
else in the room, which I shared with another three patients, but I couldn’t
stop. I was a mess, crying, gasping for air and in an absolutely panic because
I couldn’t breath. The nurse couldn’t handle it and just kept telling me angrily
to listen to her and slow down my breathing. She ended up going for help and
came back with another nurse, who was an angel. Very calm and confident, she
controlled the scene and was able to slow my breathing down and find out what
was going on. She asked my pain level and I cried “10 out of 10”. She asked
what the pain felt like and I said it was as though someone was stabbing me. I
felt so small and helpless being in so much pain and needing that pain relief
just to keep it at a tolerable level and then having it just taken away by one
incompetent nurse could have had such severe consequences for me. The angel
nurse sent the other nurse out of the room and told her to call the pain team
right now and get them here urgently. She then apologised to me, which I really
appreciated.
An anaesthetist, who was part of the pain team, eventually
came and injected some powerful drugs right into my veins. The effects were
immediate. My pain was instantly gone, but now I was suddenly hallucinating.
The hospital bed was gone and I was in an old wooden cart going high speed down
some rail tracks in the middle of space and into the mouth of a big dragon like
some sort of dodgy roller-coaster ride. I could feel the cart get tipped upside
down, doing summersaults, turning too sharply and me almost falling out into
nothingness. I was desperately hanging on for dear life and scared because,
even though I knew this couldn’t be real, when I looked down I couldn’t see my
legs, just blackness. Dad told me afterwards that, as soon as the drugs went in,
I raised my arms in front of me and just held them there. Then I began asking
him “where am I?”, “where is my leg?”, “where is my other leg?”, “I don’t like
this”. He answered all my questions calmly and, although I was spaced out, it
was a relief for him as my face had relaxed and he knew I wasn’t in pain any
more.
That morning I was exhausted and still sore, but it was nothing
compared to that night. The doctors and pain team came during rounds and were
surprised and appalled by what had happened that night. After that I was given
my own room and some hospital feedback forms in case I wanted to make a
complaint against the nurse. Luckily that was the last time I saw her and I now
had great team looking after me.
Things started to improve. I wasn’t strong enough for
visitors yet, but the pain was being managed and I finally started sleeping. Friday
night I had my first solid sleep, it was only 3 hours but it made a huge
difference.
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| Mum watching over me: Checking my breathing regularly |
On Saturday, I had my catheter out which meant I had to
start walking to get to the toilet. By the weekend, I had recovered enough and
was motivated again. Every little achievement felt like I had won a race.
Friday I walked for the first time with a walking frame, Saturday I sat out of
bed for 10 minutes and sent my first text (though needed a power nap
afterwards), and Sunday I could cope with my first visitors since the surgery.
I was very fortunate to have a lot of support and visitors throughout my time
in hospital. I was so grateful for all the visits, flowers, magazines, baking,
gifts, texts and messages. After the trauma of Thursday night, I was back to
being strong, positive and happy, and I owe most of that to the support that
was given to me. I got on well with a lot of the staff as well and they seemed
just as pleased as me that I was starting to feel better. Dad had also made
friends with the food lady, so after finishing off my meals he would then be
offered extra food and drink. I was recovering very quickly every day, so on
Monday I had my PCA removed and was upgraded to crutches.
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| Enjoying my friends company and humor |
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| Jelly snakes for visitors and bribing the staff |
The time had come to get back to Nelson. On Wednesday I was
transferred by the air ambulance to Nelson hospital by an awesome team. Since I
had come from a different hospital, I was kept in isolation, which meant a
single room with a TV. Score! By the weekend, I was good to go home with some extra
equipment to help out at home. This was
after 15 days in hospital where I lost 7kgs. Mum and Dad stayed the first week
with me at home to help out and set things up while Ash went to work. There is
no way I could have managed this on my own and I’m just so lucky and grateful
to have such wonderful parents. I still have a long road ahead, but things are
looking promising. With the help of my work, Active Body Centre, I’m getting
the best rehab available. I am still non weight bearing on two crutches and can
only walk short distances, but I have started doing my rehab in the pool which
is keeping me sane. I am also extremely lucky to have Cath Cheatley, who has
been through a similar injury, advising and encouraging me through this
journey.
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| Nelson Hospital: Struggling to do a Suduku |
I’m unsure what the future all bring, but I am 100%
determined and motivated to get back to racing on the bike. After a lot of
downtime and thinking, at this stage I have decided to give the National series
a miss next year. I didn’t enjoy it this year except for the social aspect and
financially it is very taxing. Instead I will concentrate on enduro and Super D
racing where next year I hope to start racing on the international circuit for
the first time. Furthermore, to the dislike of many of my mountain bike friends,
last year after a taste on the road and track, I have become a big fan and would
like to see how far I can go. So having my finger in many pies at the moment,
hopefully I have a big future ahead of me. Thanks again everyone for your
generous support J I
couldn’t have got through this without my friends and family,
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| Freedom at last: Discharged from Nelson Hospital |
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| Enjoying being at home |
