What a Difference a Year Makes

It has been exactly one year to the day since my accident. Tuesday, December 16, 2008 at 7:40 in the morning. An accident that could easily have taken my life. How can you forget when you come that close to losing everything in an instant. Impossible. This morning as I drove to work, the same way I always do, I passed the exact area where one year ago, almost to the minute, I was hit broadside by an on-coming car. The weather was almost identical; the road conditions as icy and treacherous as they were last year. The moment I passed that spot, white knuckles clutching the wheel, the memory of it all came flooding back. The impact, the shock, the pain. It is hard to believe that one year has passed since that fateful day. In my mind, it seems like mere weeks ago. I am not known for my excellent memory, but when it comes to that day, the images are clearly etched in my mind. Perhaps there are some residual post-traumatic issues still lingering. I don`t know. But it is interesting to me to see how different my life is today compared to exactly one year ago. At that time, I questioned what lay ahead for me, and wondered if I would ever find normalcy in my life again. There were so many unknowns, so many unanswerable questions.

Today, a year later, was a difficult day for me. I had to write a tough exam for a competition at work. Yesterday, I had to do a presentation - something that is very hard for me to do. It was stressful and it was difficult. What I need to remind myself of though, is how small and insignificant these things are in the scope of things. Only when you come close to losing everything, can you truly appreciate this. There are only a few people in my life that know what I am talking about. Tonight, my husband and I talked about what happened one year ago - how could we not? And how suddenly and drastically things can change when you really least expect it. We remembered being told by the doctors how lucky I was not to have suffered serious neurological consequences. It is impossible for most people to relate to this kind of experience unless they have lived it, or know someone who has. And it`s understandable - how could they? It`s not a typical life experience.

So, as I stress about all the things that need to get done before the holidays, I remind myself of how I missed out on those holidays last year, and how I vowed to myself that next year would be better. Well, this is it. And this year will be better.

It just goes to prove that no matter how bad things appear to be, a positive approach to life will get you through. Lesson learned : what doesn`t destroy you, does indeed make you stronger.

Life is Good

It`s been a long while since I have posted an update on my "story". A friend of ours asked how I was doing the other day and whether I had updated my blog recently. I told him I hadn`t because I didn`t feel like I had much more to say, but he made me realize that - maybe I do. And it`s all good.

I had planned to return to work full-time on April 20 but to my great surprise, I couldn`t do it. After half a day of work my energy was depleted and I had to go home. After a few days of this I returned to my doctor. She said it was unreasonable to expect to return to full-time work after months of immobilization. She put me on a progressive part-time schedule and that was much easier for me to deal with. I am now doing four days a week for a couple more weeks and then I will be good to start full-time. I realize in hindsight that it was not feasible to expect to return to normalcy that quickly.

I have since made up with my car. I had no choice as I am totally dependant on it to get to work. Our relationship is better, but we still have our issues, and I don`t trust it completely yet, but I`m getting there. I realize now that I must take some of the blame for what happened...
I`ve made some progress since I`ve started driving again. Now, instead of nervously checking both ways five times before I turn, I only check two (or maybe three) times.

Being immobilized in a halo vest for weeks on end is not good for the waistline. Even though you eat less, you also expend much less energy. It`s not complicated - you move less, you burn less, you get fat. Well, fatter anyway. So now I have a few extra pounds to get rid of. I have been walking on my treadmill for weeks now, but it`s just not enough. So, as of this week, I have slowly (and I mean slowly) started to run again. I am running in a way that allows my knees to absorb as much of the impact as possible in order to save my neck the trauma. My doctor is not too keen about this, but says my body will tell me if it doesn`t like it. So far it`s been ok. What I am really itching to do is get on my bike and ride outdoors, but I don`t have to be told that`s not a good idea. It`s not the riding I`m worried about - it`s the falling. You just never know... And once you`ve broken you`re neck, you remain forever protective of it. Which is probably a good thing.

There is still some neck pain on days when I read alot at work, or sit at the computer for long periods. I also get an achey neck when the weather is raining - just as my neurologist predicted. While my range has improved immensely, I have not recovered full motion yet. But I`m almost there. On rainy days like today however, it seems my neck is more stiff and I feel certain that I need physiotherapy. Yet on other days I feel like it`s fine. We`ll see.

I still often think about the accident and my time in the halo. It seems like a bad dream now, but I know it wasn`t a dream. It was real, and it was life-threatening and it was horrible. But it`s over now, and I`m happy to say - life is good, and as it should be. :)

Back To Life

After nine long weeks of immobilization in a halo vest and 5 further weeks in a rigid cervical collar, I am finally healed enough to return to my normal life. I have been slowly weaning myself off of the collar in the last couple of weeks and to my surprise, have regained a good amount of range in my neck. It`s not perfect but it's a huge improvement.

Now of course as luck would have it, my two year old car battery gave up on me just when I needed it the most. This is not helping my already shaky relationship with my car. It let me down again. I had planned to use this week to get used to driving again and do some long overdue errands before returning to work. Instead, it left me stranded at the gas station. It' a good thing there's still the week-end.

I am looking forward to my return to work and the end of my long hibernation. It will be an adjustment to be sure, and I have no idea if I will be capable of working a full day at the computer, but I plan to give it my best shot. I am confident that it will all work out.

The entire affair seems like a bad dream to me now. It's amazing how quickly we forget pain and suffering once it's over. When you're living it, you think it will never end. But of course it does, and then you have trouble remembering the details. This is one of the reasons why I wrote this blog - to remind myself of how close I came to losing everything, and to remain grateful for being spared the worst.

My visible scars are healing, although one pin site continues to give me trouble. I will likely seek medical intervention in the coming months to improve the scar, but it's such a small matter in the scheme of things, I've put it low on my list of priorities. In any case, my dermatologist has advised to wait and see if there is further improvement down the road before doing anything. As for my fracture, I am told it is 75% healed, but will take up to a year to heal completely. I am also told that rainy, damp weather will likely always cause me pain. I always thought this was a myth, but according to my neurosurgeon it's an unfortunate fact.

Not much else to say other than life is getting back to normal and, other than my pin scars, you would never know that anything had happened. I am pretty much back to my normal activities, other than running. I will need to talk to my doctor about when I can return to my usual exercise routine. For now, I am walking on my treadmill and I plan to return to the gym after my return to work. I suppose my body will let me know what I can and cannot do.

I am still contemplating the purchase of a new, safer vehicle. At the very least, I am considering installing side air bags for my car. I continue to be very nervous about driving, especially at intersections. I don't think I will ever feel relaxed about driving again.

The Supporting Cast

I have said many times in my posts that I consider myself to be very lucky. Lucky to have been spared serious consequences from my injury. Lucky to have the opportunity to continue to live, free and independent. During my time in the halo, I was also reminded of how lucky I am to be surrounded by people who care about what happens to me. I can't begin to imagine what it would be like to be alone in such circumstances. As a result, I feel compelled to thank those who were there for me.

It seems that nothing gets people's attention like a broken neck. Everyone always assumes the worst when they hear such news. And with good reason. I had many visitors and callers when I was in the hospital and later at home during my recuperation. My family was by my side and gave me all the support I could possibly need. Friends called regularly to see how I was doing. Colleagues sent their well-wishes and flowers. It warmed my heart. My husband received regular calls, almost on a weekly basis, from family abroad, most of whom I have never even met. It is astounding to me that people can give of themselves this way.

I have to say though that the award for `best support to a temporarily disabled halo-wearer` goes to my husband; my rock, my own personal hero :) This is the man that looked after my every need day in and day out. A man who, after an exhausting day at work, would go out of his way to find me a certain book I wanted to read, or a certain dvd I wanted to see. A man who took over the entire household responsibilities, along with full-time work. Who made me homemade soup when I was having difficulty swallowing, and who brought me hot, sweet cardamon milk while I took my mini baths. A man who actively sought ways to make my days less miserable, and who gave me the words of encouragement I needed to hear when I didn`t think I could take much more. Who spent countless exhausting hours by my side at the hospital, and then later in the ER. Who washed me, dressed me and dried my hair.. It is because of him that I managed to get through the difficult early days, and that I was able to focus on the light at the end of the tunnel. I hope with all my heart that I never have to pay him back.

I want to make special mention of my sister Gi who visited me at the hospital after long days at work, eyes red from exhaustion, but filled to the brim with compassion and worry. Who since forever, has never failed to materialize by my side when I needed her. Merci Gi xxoo. And to her boyfriend as well who took time out of his very busy schedule to actually make legs for my sofa so that it could be raised to a more comfortable height. And who fabricated some really nifty and useful memory foam cushions by hand so that I might be more comfortable. Talk about compassion. And, best of all, who pulled strings and somehow got me a hospital bed just days before Christmas. Merci E.

And to my sweet sister N who although younger, never ceases to surprise me with her inner strength and her wisdom. Who sat by my side for hours on end, and who looked at me in wide-eyed horror (pre-halo installation), every time I moved an inch in my hospital bed : Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiise, don`t move!

And to my brother who was quickly by my side with his wife soon after the accident, concerned and worried, staying until he knew everything was stable.

And of course my father, who kissed my forehead and said thank God I wasn`t paralysed. Who brought me flowers and told me, "je t'attends pour danser." Merci papa.

And my mother. My mother, who so sadly is no longer with us, but who I know continues to watch over us, somehow, somewhere, making sure that we find our way without her; I could not possibly miss her more. Her radiant, smiling face remains clearly etched forever in my mind's eye. A vision of grace, beauty and remarkable strength. She has taught me a thing or two about courage. Que je t'aime.

Last, but certainly not least, my good friend C also deserves special mention for her unwavering, steady friendship and her incredible generosity of heart. Her support and genuine compassion has helped to pull me through some tough times on more than one occasion.

Just as the halo vest provides you with the support needed to allow your fracture to heal, a supporting cast of family and friends will help to heal your mind and your spirit, which in turn will give you the strength and courage you will need to face the tough times ahead.

Don`t Be So Rigid

After being immobilized in a halo vest for nine weeks, the rigid collar that follows its removal seems almost insignificant. But I think it merits discussion nevertheless.

It is most definitely an improvement mobility-wise, and is miles more comfortable than the halo. Having said that, it is not freedom quite yet. The rigid collar, at least in my case, is used to continue to stabilize the neck while the fracture completes the healing process. My healing had progressed enough to allow removal of the halo, but not enough to go without some level of support and protection. The collar provides that support while at the same time allowing for some movement. With a small allowance for movement, the neck muscles begin to work, which results in the gradual strengthening of the neck.

After prolonged immobilization in a halo vest, the neck muscles will have atrophied to some extent due to lack of use. The longer you are immobilized, the weaker your neck muscles will be. As with all progress though, there is usually some threshold that must be pushed through. In order to regain your muscle strength, you will have to start to use it (albeit very slowly and in the confines of the collar); and when you do, you will experience some level of pain and discomfort. That pain and discomfort will eventually lead to increased strength as the muscles work to meet the demand.

I certainly noticed an increase in muscle pain in my neck and even in my back to some extent, since wearing the collar. I also find that the back of my neck hurts throughout the night and I must always be very careful as I move around from side to side. In fact, I find that sometimes I actually have to lift my own head before I can move...yikes. Out of habit from my halo days, I still roll to my side and push myself up to get out of bed. Most of the time, I have to hold my head as I push up. Same thing goes if I have been in a reclined position for any period of time. I assume what I am feeling is muscle strain and not fracture pain, in which case, the muscles will eventually strengthen.

Although my doctor told me to only remove the brace (while seated) to change the pads on it, I now occasionally remove it just to get a break from it, and to allow my neck to "breathe" for a few minutes. It does get hot under there. I don't move much while out of the brace, but I have tested my range enough to know there isn't much :( It will no doubt improve with time and/or physiotherapy.

I have to take my showers with the brace on and I have to say, that sucks. It's difficult to get at all of my hair since the back of the brace reaches up a little higher than the top of my ears. And the foam pads absorb alot of water, so by the time I finish my shower it weighs a ton. And then of course it just drips all over the place..

Apart from that, there isn't much to say about the brace. Eating is a bit tricky but a huge improvement over the halo. And it's handy to keep your neck warm if you're out in the cold...no scarf required. Now that's a plus if you live in my neck of the woods (ignore the pun :).

Back In The Saddle

Driving your car after an accident is a bit like getting back in the saddle after falling off a horse. You have to do it if you care about getting on with your life and regaining your independence. But it`s not easy.

I drive a mid-size import. A sort of hybrid between a sedan and a small SUV. I don't want to give the name of the car, because I am not going to say very nice things about it. To be fair, the car has always served me well. It was very reliable, practical and comfortable to drive. I enjoyed driving the car and was happy with it. Not anymore. The honeymoon is over; the romance is gone. I have fallen out of love with my car. Yet there it sits in my garage, all fixed up like new, and shiny and clean, as if nothing has happened. It beckons me, but I ignore it. At first I was angry and would not, could not even look at it. Now I feel only cool indifference.

What kind of car allows you to get a serious injury without even trying to protect you? I mean, the air bags didn`t even deploy for God`s sake! Ok, it wasn`t a frontal impact, and I don't have side air bags, but still... I am not impressed.

I am starting to fantasize about another car. I want something that will take me places and take better care of me. Something bigger, taller and with more muscle. I want an SUV with four-wheel drive and side air bags...and leather seats :)

It won't be long before I have to get in my car, like it or not, and drive myself to work. My husband has (forcefully) taken me for a little drive in it, but I didn't enjoy it one bit. My car is giving me heart palpitations, and not in a good way. The only thing it has going for it right now is that it's paid off, but I'm not sure that will be enough.

All joking aside though, a vehicle accident that leaves you with major injuries will quickly make you realize that we humans are seriously vulnerable when it comes to driving a car. The human body was not made to withstand the potential impact caused by fast moving metal and glass. There can be no competition between the two. One will always win and the other will always lose.

Since never driving again is not an option for me, I will face this challenge as best I can. I will drive, but I will do it very carefully, and without distraction. And I will never again take my safety and that of others for granted. Another life lesson learned.

Free At Last - Almost

After being confined in a halo vest for nine weeks, the feeling I experienced after it was finally removed from my body is nothing short of euphoria. And for several hours after, I couldn`t wipe the smile off my face. It was such a relief. I suddenly felt buoyant and light and.. normal again. I couldn't wait to put on a proper shirt or sweater; anything but an oversized hoodie. I took the longest and hottest shower of my life. Showering isn't quite as magnificent as it could be since I must leave the collar on, but it's miles better than no shower.

One of the first things I did that evening was sprawl on the couch to watch tv. I know that makes me sound slovenly, but sitting rod straight all the time gets old really fast. There may be a time and a place for sitting rod straight but on the couch watching tv isn't one of them. Another simple joy is being able to sleep on my side. My body yearned for this while in the halo. Although I was able to sleep on my side for short periods at a time, it took many weeks to get to that point. And side sleeping was only possible for very short periods. After a while, it caused painful pressure on the side rods and I had to return to my usual back position. I still have to be very careful when turning to my side, and my cervical collar has to be very secure, but it can be done.

The other thing I was desperate to do was colour my hair. My vanity took a major hit during my halo days and I was anxious to start looking more normal. I had to do the job myself, with my husband's help, since I am not able to drive yet, nor can I remove the collar to have my hair rinsed at a salon. The fiasco that ensued from that seemingly simple task could probably be the subject of a separate post. All I can say is...quelle mess. Picture two people in a not very big shower, one wearing a cervical collar wrapped in saran wrap and the other assisting to rinse out a head full of dye. The things my husband will do for me :)

I have not ventured out very much, other than the usual Saturday excursion, but I am surprised to see that people are still staring and still commenting. Compared to the monstrosity of the halo vest, I feel I look quite normal. But the stares I am continuing to get tell me that's not quite the case. Oh, well. Let them stare if they must. I'm just happy to be walking.

With the halo gone, there has been a huge improvement in my situation, but I have not forgotten the serious nature of my injury, and I know that I still have a ways to go before I am completely healed. Any attempts to jump ahead and try to do things I have been told not to do, result in a return of the pain in my neck. The fracture, coupled with the severe sprain, has left me with a range of motion in my neck that is presently very limited. I have only a couple of inches either way, but I am confident that this will improve in time. In the meanwhile, I have to accept that I am not quite there yet.

The good news is, (and there is always good news if you look), the days are getting longer and Spring is on it's way :) Soon I will be completely free, and will return to my normal life. For now, I will raise the window blinds high and let the glorious sun shine in.

Goodbye Halo

My first follow-up appointment with the neurologist came about two and a half weeks after installation of the halo. At that time, the x-rays showed that the fracture was beginning to heal and everything was in its proper place. The doctor mistakenly thought I had been in the halo for about a month, so my healing was apparently a little bit ahead of schedule. I was nervous for that appointment because I thought for sure the doctor would whip out his shiny silver wrench and torture me by tightening my pins. He didn`t. In fact when I told him of my fears he said that they normally only tighten them once, about 24 hours after installation. The reason for this, he said, is because the bone tends to soften if you tighten the screws too often and then there is no longer any hold for the screws. Boy, was I relieved to hear that! In my case, it was a little more often than that, but that`s because I had infected pins which had to be moved. I had read about people having the pins tightened every week during their ordeal and had been doing a fair bit of obsessing about it. This news came as a happy surprise to me.

My next follow-up appointment was scheduled for about six weeks later. That put me at about nine weeks in the halo so I was expecting another three weeks before I was `released`. However the doctor surprised me by asking if I was ready to have it removed. I wasn`t about to say no, but he caught me off guard. I was shocked, scared and happy all at the same time. I wasn`t quite prepared for that scenario and I think he could clearly see it on my face. He said he was satisfied that the healing was almost complete, and that the halo could come off. A rigid cervical collar would protect my neck for the remainder of time it took for the fracture to finish healing.

As usual, the legs began to shake, shake, shake, as soon as I was told to lay down on the bed. A resident started to disassemble the supporting rods from the halo, one at a time. As soon as he unleashed the last one from the vest, I felt the sudden release of my neck. Although I didn`t move my head at all, I could instantly feel the difference. It no longer felt like my head was in a vice. I felt relief, but I also felt very vulnerable. Once I was disengaged from the halo, the vest was removed. After that, we waited for the neurosurgeon to return.

He soon returned and asked me to sit up. I tried but I felt alot of pain on one side of my neck and it felt so weak I had to actually hold my head with my hands. It was the oddest sensation. It is something that is difficult to describe and probably hard to imagine unless you have experienced it yourself. We are so used to holding up our heads, we don`t realize how heavy it is until we lose the muscle strength to do it. He put me back down, put the brace on and we tried again. The brace helped and I was able to sit up.

Now only the halo remained around my head. He began to unscrew the pins while I clutched the sleeve of his jacket. By the way, I couldn`t help but notice that my doctor looks exactly like the actor Tim Robbins.. Not that that`s relevant or anything :). He said I wouldn`t like him very much after this was over. And it was painful. I felt tremendous pressure in my upper teeth as he unscrewed one of the pins in my forehead and he said it was because I was clenching my teeth too hard. I don`t think that`s the reason though. I was clenching my teeth because of the pressure I was feeling, not the other way around. Thankfully, it was all over quickly. If it`s any reassurance to anyone, the pain and pressure you feel stops as soon as the pins are out. After that, there is a bit of soreness at the pin sites, but it`s nothing like when they are first put in.

The nurse cleaned the pin sites, showed me and my husband how to change the pads on the collar, and gave us information about what to do and what not to do. Basically, I was under the same restrictions for another month and I had to wear the collar at all times, including while taking showers. I asked if I could start walking on the treadmill but was told no :(

The next day, I removed the two little bandaids the nurse had put on the pin sites on my forehead. I was disappointed to find that one of the sites had alot of hard adhesions underneath. I allowed a couple of days for the wound to close and after that I began to massage the area a few times a day. Although the solid mass underneath has diminished quite a bit, there are still adhesions and this is causing a bit of puckering at the pin site. I don`t think there is much more I can do myself to resolve this and will discuss it with the doctor at my next appointment. It`s not a huge deal in the scheme of things, but if I can make it better somehow, I would like to try.

In hindsight I think I could have avoided this by massaging the area once in a while. I had a bit of skin overhanging that pin, probably due to some pulling of the skin during installation. And, curiously enough, that pin site was always a bit more crusty than the others. I think the bunching up of the skin in that area caused adhesions to settle in underneath. It is too late for me, but might be a good lesson for others. Check with your doctor or nurse first, but my advice would be to keep the skin moving around your pins if you care about how it is going to look afterwards. The other site on my forehead is slightly depressed, but is fine. The ones behind my ears are healing well, and as long as they`re not infected, I am not concerned about what they look like.

Although I am now wearing a rigid collar, I am feeling much more normal than I have in a long time. Almost there.. :)

The Days of Halo

Your days in the halo can seem long and never-ending, but they will go by faster if you try to keep yourself somewhat occupied. Unfortunately, you will be very limited in what you can actually do, or what you are allowed to do. If you normally work and/or are an active person, it may be even more difficult to adjust to your new (but temporary), situation. No doubt for the first several weeks you will feel the need to rest most of the day. You will likely take lots of naps to make up for lost sleep at night. This is a very good thing and will allow your body to begin the healing process. After a while though you may start to find the days a bit long.

Some people might enjoy watching some television to pass the time during the day. I didn`t. I have never liked to watch daytime television - especially soaps. There is something about daytime tv that I find...depressing, for some reason. I don`t know what it is. Perhaps there is a childhood association there with being sick and at home for the day. I much prefer to raise the window blinds, let the sun shine in, turn on the radio, and listen to music. This helps me to feel somewhat in touch with what is going on with the outside world. To each his own though.

My days of halo tended to be separated into different segments. In the mornings, I would have my coffee and read and/or send e-mails, trying to stay in touch with friends, family, and to some extent, work. Keep in mind this is several weeks into my recuperation. I would then have breakfast after which I would wash up and get dressed. Although I couldn`t do anything close to heavy housework, after a few weeks I was able to make the bed, sort of, and pick up a bit (usually with my feet, hee, hee). The nurse who did the daily cleaning of my pins always came just before lunch. This ate up about half an hour and was always a welcome diversion.

Afternoons were longer. I couldn`t read comfortably so I didn`t do much of that. Sometimes people would call and I`d chat for a while. As I talked on the telephone I would walk, and walk, throughout my (relatively large)house. Up and down the stairs, and around and around...Those were the times when I couldn`t get comfortable no matter what I tried, so I just walked. I think it helped to alleviate some of my anxiety and pent up energy. There was no way I could walk outside. My driveway (which is somewhere under the snow in the picture above..) was sheer ice most of the time and the cold on my metal pins would have given me an instant brain freeze... Speaking of brain freeze, it will happen if you expose yourself to very cold temperatures. It doesn`t feel good, so avoid it at all costs. I learned the hard way. Yowch.

In the late afternoon I would often take a short nap. It always revived me and I was good to go until bedtime. You have to be a bit careful with naps though. If you sleep too much during the day, especially later in your recovery, you might have trouble sleeping at night.

The evenings were spent sitting in front of the fireplace, usually watching television with my husband and just generally resting. Friends of mine gave me dvds as gifts to help pass the time. As a result, I have become utterly and completely addicted to House :) Thanks alot C. I spent many hours burning through back to back episodes while my husband watched his hockey games. As I said, I`m not normally a big television watcher, but now I can`t seem to get enough of that show. If you are one of the few who haven`t yet seen this one, I highly recommend it. It`s relatively intelligent and it`s lots of fun. Expect to get hooked though.

There will come a time when you will want/need to get out of the house. Hopefully, you will have someone who can drive you. Our normal routine is to do our errands and grocery shopping on Saturdays. It took many weeks before I ventured out, but after a while, I joined him on these excursions. It`s amazing how wiped out you can get simply following someone around in a store when you are carrying an extra 14 pounds or so, mostly on your head.. And, getting in and out of the car is no party either. The only way I could do this was to squat before getting in to avoid hitting my halo on the top of the car. They tell you to push your bottom in first and then follow with your halo. I couldn`t do this because I couldn`t bend forward without pain. So I squatted and slid in -- slowly. Not the most attractive looking gesture, but it worked for me.

Expect to get stared at when you go out. If you`re in line, say at a big box store, you can be sure that everyone in line is looking at you. For one thing, they have nothing better to do. And, they are trying to figure out what that thing on your head is. You can`t blame them, it`s not a common sight. Some will stare openly, while others will be sneaky about it. But they will all stare. Some of the more curious will actually come and ask you questions. The most common for me was, how do you sleep? Just tell them you sleep standing up and enjoy the reaction...:)I was able to ignore the staring for a certain amount of time, and then it would get to be a bit much. I never held it against anyone though. It`s just natural curiosity.

My outings were very short. One or two hours on the week-end was my maximum since as soon as I became fatigued the halo would begin to feel heavier on my shoulders. It was always nice to get out though and if you are able to, I recommend it. As you deal with these challenges, keep in mind that soon your days of halo will be nothing but a distant memory.

It`s The Little Things

It`s always the little things that surprise you in life. And so it is for life in a halo as well. Things that you have always done without a single thought all your life become little challenges when you are immobilized in a halo.

For example, brushing your teeth. Brushing your teeth, a seemingly uncomplicated act, requires that you bend over at some point and spit. Good luck with that. In my case, I could not bend over, at all. The weight of the halo in that position caused pain in the back of my neck. I was eventually able to bend forward a bit from the torso, but at first, I simply couldn`t. So, my suggestion : spit in a glass (sorry). You can try spitting into the sink standing straight up like a robot, you might even get good at it with practice, just don`t practice while your loved one is standing close by.

Reading is a simple pleasure in life, normally, but it`s anything but simple when you are with halo. Most enjoyable reading moments normally come when you are stretched out on your couch, slouched over your book, maybe surrounded by soft cozy cushions... The thing is, there are really only two positions possible in the halo, and none of them include slouching. One is laying down, (once you get the hang of that), in which case you are staring at the ceiling. Just try to see how long your arms will allow you to read in that position. The other position is sitting straight up, in which case, you still have to bring your reading material up to the level of your eyes. I said there were two positions, but actually, there is also a third, kind of in between position, where you are laying down, but propped up by pillows. Since you can`t move your head, at all, this position provides you with a fascinating view of the ceiling meeting the wall. Try as I might, I never did come up with a really satisfying way to read. The best I could do was sit upright and place the book on a high pile of pillows. It was ok, but I tired quickly in that position.

Watching tv is a little easier since you don`t have to hold anything up. Still, watching a two hour movie sitting rod straight has it`s limitations. At some point you yearn to recline. Well, you can`t - unless of course, you`d rather watch the ceiling than the movie.

Washing your hair is another thing that most of us take for granted. Jump in the shower, wash your hair. Simple. Not. If there is one thing that is impossible to do yourself while with halo it is washing your own hair. If anyone has managed to do this, I`d like to know how. Even with someone doing it for you, it`s complicated. In my case, I took advantage of the hospital bed while I had it. After the bed was gone, we put our huge kitchen island to use. At 8ft by 5ft its plenty big for me to lay on, and I was pretty sure my 130 pounds wasn`t going to break it. We have a small secondary sink in it that was just perfect for washing hair. We used a hose attachment to make it easier to rinse underneath the head. It was heaven. Still, I was dependant on someone else doing the deed. There is no way that I could have managed this myself.

I could go on and on. The point is, you only realize what you had when you`ve lost it. A cliché, yes, but it`s true. Although I try to make light of it, I am ever so thankful that what I lost was not lost forever.

Halo My Friend

Yes, believe it or not, your halo is your friend. It may feel more like an unwanted visitor that is hanging around too long and keeping you from doing the things you'd like to do - but it is very much your friend. It is, quite literally, saving your neck. Doctors don`t just put halo vests on people so neurologist residents can get some use out of those nifty, shiny little wrenches they all carry around in their pockets to tighten the screws on your halo. If you are immobilized in one of these, it is because you have a serious neck injury and it has been determined that the halo will give you the best result. It is a more conservative approach than surgery, and research has shown that it gives good results. Personally, given the choice, I would rather live with discomfort for three months, than have permanent metal in my neck. But that`s just me.

So, I say embrace your halo, accept it, recognize it as your friend. Remind yourself everyday that it is there for a very good reason. The day will come soon when it will come off and you will be grateful for the protection it provided while your injury was healing. Now, I know that`s easy for me to say since I have been halo-free for two weeks :), so for those of you who are currently struggling through daily life with a halo, I offer the following comments, based on my own experience. In no way should any of this be taken as professional advice.

The Art of Sleeping in a Halo Vest

There isn`t any. It`s all trial and error. However, as I said in a previous post, I highly recommend a hospital bed. You will likely have difficulty sleeping on your back and in your own bed at first. In my case, this was not possible for several weeks. The best I could do was raise the bed and sleep in a semi-seated position. My husband would help me by placing pillows in various places until something felt right. Sometimes this would take quite a while but thankfully, my husband is very patient when it comes to these things. One thing I did find very helpful was to place a small pillow between the two bars in the back of my head. This allows your head to rest on something, rather than be suspended in mid-air between the two bars. Not only is this uncomfortable, but it means that all of the weight of your head is held by the bars, which are resting directly on the pillow. In turn, this puts pressure on your pins and, well, it hurts. The hospital bed also allows you to raise your knees and that relieves some the the pressure placed on your ribs and abdomen from the vest. You may also find it helpful to roll a small towel and place it through the bars and around your neck. This will give some needed support to that area and will feel more natural.

After a while, I began to slowly lower the bed so that I could get used to the feeling of being flat on my back. When I was sleeping nearly flat, I made my way back to my own bed. This was hit and miss at first and there were nights when I migrated back downstairs to my comfort zone. After five weeks, I was done with the hospital bed.

Bathing

I found that you can actually take a bath in a halo vest. This was a pleasant discovery because I am not a sponge bath kind of person. However, I had no choice with that for the first three weeks or so. After I recovered from my various complications, my husband suggested I try taking a bath in the guest bathroom. The bath in our master suite is much too big and difficult to get in and out of even at the best of times. The guest bath is smaller and much easier to deal with. For added safety, we had a temporary safety bar installed on the side of the bath and put in a rubber mat. Very important since you can not see your feet while wearing the halo and the last thing you want to do is fall.. Even though my legs are strong, I don`t think I could have raised myself out of the bath without something to grab onto. In any case, I would highly recommend getting assistance, if you can, at least for the first few times you get in and out of the bath. You will only be able to fill the bath with so much water, as you want to keep the water level at least a couple of inches below the bottom of the vest. Still, it`s enough that it actually feels like a real bath. And you have to be very careful when you wash not to splash too much water around. My little bath was very comforting to me and became a nightly ritual.

For cleaning underneath the vest, you will need assistance. We used a long piece of cheese cloth, doubled up and slightly dampened with a bit of water and some 70% rubbing alcohol. My husband would thread the cloth through the back openings on the vest, underneath the cami or tank I was wearing and seesaw back and forth to clean my back. I could usually manage the front myself. I would then remove the slightly damp cami, and change into a clean, dry one. This worked very well and the lining of the vest always stayed nice and dry. I did this no more than a couple of times a week. Alcohol can be very drying to the skin and unless you are exercising heavily and perspiring (which you likely are not...), more often than that is probably not necessary.

Eating

Eating was a challenge at first. For some reason, I was having alot of difficulty swallowing properly. It was a real problem for me, and one that had me somewhat worried that I may have some lingering neurological issues. I also had difficulty opening my mouth normally. This is apparently normal at first, but does get better as time goes by. The swallowing improved also, but it took much, much longer. In the meantime, I simply made sure that I took small bites, and that I was sitting up properly when I was eating. It is more difficult to recover from choking on something if you are confined to a halo and can`t move your neck. Be careful. It also helps if you can somehow raise your plate so that you can see what you are eating. Either way, eating is rather messy in a halo as things are bound to drop off your fork on the way up.

I think it`s a good idea to eat lightly while wearing the halo vest, especially in the evening. I found that my vest always felt more uncomfortable at night and it didn`t help if I overate even the tiniest bit. There`s just no room under the vest for any expansion whatsoever. I wore a small sized vest and it was tight. Unfortunately, that`s just the way it has to be, so you have to work around it. I didn`t have a huge appetite throughout the entire time I was immobilized so that helped a bit.

A New Perspective

I had a strange experience the day I was discharged from the hospital. Shortly after arriving home, my husband started a fire in the fireplace like he does most evenings in the winter. He then got me all set up with blankets and pillows so that I could sit by the fire and watch tv. As I sat there, quietly watching him going about his business, I was overcome by an eerie feeling that I was not actually physically present in the room. It was as if I was detached from the scene and watching from some other dimension. It was the creepiest thing - like I was getting a glimpse of things the way they could have been, or maybe even should have been. My husband alone; me gone. Maybe it was just the aftershock of the whole affair, but whatever it was, the feeling of gratitude it left behind stuck. It was some strange kind of magic that made me realize how lucky I was, and how much worse it all could have been.

After experiencing some insight from that perspective, I tried to find something positive to focus on every day and believe me, if you look, you`ll find it. I can`t say I didn`t have a few miserable moments after that, but those moments were short-lived. I just couldn`t help but feel lucky, despite it all.

I did my best to always have a smile on my face when my husband returned from work. I would wake up in the morning, wash up and get dressed - no lounging in pyjamas for me. In my view, if you dress like a sick person, you'll feel like a sick person. It`s human nature. And, the last thing I wanted was for my husband to come home to a sad and depressing place. Why should he? I wasn`t sad and I wasn`t depressed. And quite frankly, it wasn`t that much effort. After the first three weeks or so, I actually felt relatively good most of the time. I was uncomfortable to be sure, and I had pain from time to time, but my morale was very good, and that helped with everything else. I tend to think you have the power to actually decide how to feel about things. You either choose a negative perspective or a positive one. It`s your choice. A negative perspective will only bring you down. And it serves absolutely no purpose.

I would say the challenge in the beginning is to manage the pain. It`s not easy to be positive about things when you are hurting, that`s for sure. But if you can get a handle on the pain, the rest will be easier. While I was dealing with the infection in two of my pins, I also had an infection in my throat and ears. There is no doubt this made me pretty miserable for the first three weeks. That sore throat just hung on and on and was always worse at night. Thankfully, that was the last of the real complications for me. After that, I just focused on resting and eating well. I`m lucky enough to have a husband who gave me all the support I could possibly want, and he happens to be a great cook. What more could I ask for?

Where did Christmas Go?

I was discharged from the hospital a couple of days before Christmas. Prior to my accident I had been stressing alot about the holidays. I had not had a chance to do any shopping, and I was feeling unprepared to host Christmas dinner for my family as planned. Of course, the accident quickly put an end to any thoughts of hosting anything, nor was I in any shape to go anywhere else. My sister, (the one who was with me in the car at the time of the accident), came over on Christmas Eve, all dressed up and looking very cute, but it wasn`t much fun for her. Not that she complained. I was unfortunately quite miserable and in no mood to celebrate anything. By 8:30 that evening I was in so much pain I had to go to my bed in the den and lay down for the night.

Both my sister and my husband tried to help as I struggled with the halo to find a position that caused the least amount of pain to my neck and head. I finally found one but it left me awkwardly splayed on my back halfway down the bed, with my feet dangling off the end. My husband said I looked very uncomfortable but I didn`t care. I`d found the sweet spot and I wasn`t moving. He piled on the blankets and let me be.

As I drifted off to sleep I remember hearing the two of them chatter quietly about what had happened. After a short while I heard her leave. So much for Christmas Eve.

The next day was not much better. I had alot of pain in my neck and nothing I did seemed to help. I was unable to find pain-free comfort either sitting, laying down or standing. A gray haze lingers over the memory of that day as I tried in vain to numb the pain with medication. If it wasn`t for the Christmas tree standing in the corner of our family room, you would never have known it was Christmas day.

My sister hosted the dinner at her house that night, and although my family wanted to drop in after dinner, I declined. I was just feeling too miserable to see anyone. Next year will be better :).

Halo Complications

The pins that secure the halo to your skull are at significant risk for infection. Since infection in that area could lead to serious consequences, it is imperative that the pins be cleaned appropriately every day. In my case this was done by nurses who came in every single day, including week-ends, to do the deed. I had one nurse who came during the week, and then a rotation of different nurses on the week-end. Each and every one of these nurses was exceptionally competent, caring and compassionate. I can`t thank them enough. Apart from looking after my pins, their visits were a welcome diversion from my otherwise solitary days. (merci, merci).

Less than a week after I had left the hospital, my week-end nurse decided that the pin behind my left ear looked infected. This was the one that had been painful from day one. She urged me to go to the hospital to have it looked at right away. It was Sunday. Of course, this is the last thing I wanted to do as I was in no position to sit for any length of time in an emergency waiting room. So, I called the Neurosurgery Department for advice. Couldn`t they just prescribe an antibiotic? "Nope". They said I had to come to the ER and have it looked at but that I wouldn`t wait long as they would page a neurosurgeon as soon as I arrived. Right.

Back I went to the hospital. As luck would have it, the neurosurgeons were elbow-deep in some unfortunate person`s brain. Eight hours later, a pair of them showed up. By that time, the humming on the left side of my head had become a raging fire. I didn`t want anyone near that pin. Stay away. Alas, it wasn`t to be. The lead neuro took one look at it and said the pin had to come out and be re-positioned higher up. The infection would not heal with the pin in place. No, no, no, I said. Yes, yes, yes, he said. Once again, I was given an IV sedative, and once again it did nothing to stop the shaking in my legs.

As my husband sat next to me, the doctor tried to unscrew the pin. He tried with all his strength, but couldn`t do it. I clenched my teeth in pain and felt my husband`s grip on my hand tighten. Seconds later, the doctor came at me with an electric drill in hand, (I kid you not), and began to unscrew the pin with the drill, bit, by bit (again, no pun intended..). That`s when my stressed-out, tired, starving husband lost it. His grip on my hand loosened as he teetered on the bed. The poor thing was given a sugary drink and quickly escorted out the door. You would think loosening a screw in your head would be less painful than tightening a screw in your head. Well, it`s not. I`m sure it didn`t help that the pin site was infected. Unfortunately the one on the right also had to be moved because, surprise, surprise, it also, was infected.

I was asked to come back in two days so that they could have a look at the infection. It was a sneaky trick. They just wanted me back so that they could tighten the screws AGAIN! They didn`t tell me this as no doubt they knew I wouldn`t have come back..

The good news is, after a week of antibiotics, the infection was gone. The lesson is, if you're ever in the same boat, save yourself alot of grief and keep an eagle eye on your pins. An infection can come out of the blue and worsen at lightening speed.

You Are So Vain

On the subject of hair...If you find yourself in a halo vest and like me, are stuck on the high-maintenance track when it comes to hair, ie: color, highlights, cut etc., you will no doubt suffer a serious blow to your vanity. Except for the cut, none of the aforementioned is allowed while you are wearing the halo. You can`t get around this; it is seriously dangerous for infection to the pins, (and I have a few words to say about that subject a little later...).

I suppose you could cut your hair if you wanted, I just don`t know how you would do it. There`s just way too much "stuff" going on up there. I just piled my medium-length hair on top of my head and secured it with a clip. In my case, it was my roots that bothered me the most and I just tried to hide them as best I could. Nothing I did was going to make me look normal anyway, and it`s not like I had any pressing engagements on my social agenda...

Dressing is another issue. Since I wasn`t prepared to alter my clothes, the only tops I could wear were tanks and camis that I could pull up over my hips and underneath my vest. Over the vest, I wore my husband's zip-up hoodies. That`s it. I had no other options. Well except for pants, of course :). You want to keep the bottom half as comfortable as possible as you don't need anything to add to the discomfort and tightness of the vest. Make-up? You can, with a bit of maneuvering, but quite frankly nothing you put on your face is going to distract from the fact that your head is stuck in a metal cage and there are bolts in your forehead. Not to be negative or anything.

Pleeeease Release Me, Let Me Go

Seven days after the accident, and two days after installation of the halo, the doctor decided I could go home. My physiotherapist argued against it, feeling it was too soon, but the doctor won out. I was apprehensive, but overall, happy to be going home. They gave me instructions about the halo, handed me my medications, and off I went.

There`s nothing quite like home, and there`s nothing like the comfort of sleeping in your own bed. Except when your head is hanging suspended between four metal posts. It didn`t occur to me that I might have problems sleeping in my bed. I forgot that my hospital bed was raised, and that I had been sleeping in a semi-seated position. It didn`t take me long to realize that this was going to be a big problem. Laying flat meant that all of the weight of my head was on the metal bars, and subsequently, on my pins. That hurt, alot. After a long, tearful, miserable night, my husband decided that I was going to be needing an adjustable hospital bed if he or I were ever going to get any sleep. We mentioned this to my sister's partner who is in the business of ergonomics and rehabilitation. He quickly made arrangements and that very afternoon, two days before Christmas, I got a spanking new hospital bed delivered to my house. I don`t know how he did it, but I thank him from the bottom of my heart.

That bed saved me and I slept in it, in our downstairs den, for five weeks. It was always a struggle to find just the right position, but once I did, I stayed that way all night. I slept in a semi-reclined position, and as I slowly got used to the sensation of pressure on the bars, I began to lower the bed, little by little. That bed was the single most important element in my recuperation. I always had a place to rest during the day, and it allowed me to get some well needed sleep at night. I highly recommend one should you find yourself in a similar situation, God forbid.

The bed also came in very handy for hair washing. You can`t just step into a shower when you`re wearing a halo vest, nor can you bend over a sink. You have to keep water away from the lining at all costs. So the only way we (my husband and I) came up with was for me to lay on my back with my head slightly extended over the end. My husband would then place a large pail underneath to catch the water, which he would pour over my head from a watering can. At first it was uncomfortable and the head of the bed had to be slightly raised. This didn`t make it easy to wash the hair, but it was (much) better than nothing. And, since it is impossible to do this yourself, it helps alot if you have a kind, patient, husband/partner to do it for you, like I do :). My recommendation : use little shampoo, and rinse, rinse, rinse. No conditioners allowed.

Walk Like an Alien

I slowly sat on the side of the bed feeling a sharp pain in the back of my neck on the way up. Ow, ow. They said this was normal, but it didn`t feel like anything normal to me. I slowly stood, straight up and robot-like, since I couldn`t lean forward at all, and once again immediately felt the weight and compression in my neck. My head seemed to be slightly angled to the side and pushed back making it feel even more awkward. It was not easy to breathe and swallowing was difficult. Within seconds, I was filled with panic and despair. I felt trapped under the weight of the halo and imprisoned within the uncompromising rigidity of the vest. Claustrophobia anyone?

I wavered a little, trying to adjust to my new center of balance, and with the therapists` help, managed to walk down the hall and back while my friend C waited patiently in my room. I felt like some sort of scary, ugly, alien thing creeping down the hall, in my bare feet no less. People were staring. Despite being neutralized on Percocet, I was embarrassed. I do have some pride. And then there was C , all shiny and pretty, sitting in the corner ...with great hair, as always. Oh God. I don`t remember much else about that day, or even C`s visit. But I`m pretty sure I managed to flash her once or twice while trying to get up - sorry about that C. And I`m sorry you had to see me at my worst.

Thankfully, my feeling of despair was short-lived. I began to think more about what had happened to me, and how much worse it could have been. I began to see things in a different way. I began to feel lucky, despite it all.

The Tune Up

I believe this may have been the most painful period of the entire affair. Nothing could numb the pain in my head and I was completely miserable. The nurse sent for a neurosurgeon and it wasn`t long before one showed up. He sent me for another x-ray, this time with me in a seated position to see whether there was any compression of the neck. Everything was fine. I complained that it felt like the pins in my head were just too tight. "Could you just loosen them a bit? I asked. "On the contrary", the doctor said, "pain is usually felt when the pins are too loose and need to be tightened - we`ll need to do that later today". I couldn`t have been more horrified to hear this.

As promised, a pair of neuros showed up later that evening. They kicked my husband and sister out of the room and started prepping me for the event. Same old story: chopping block position, IV sedative, four shots of local anaesthetic to the head. I knew the drill, (no pun intended), and I knew it was going to be painful no matter how much they froze me. And it was - again particularly with regard to the pin behind my left ear which had proven to be problematic from the beginning. I have to say though that this doctor was gentle and compassionate and did everything he could to minimize the pain. I could have hugged him when it was finally over, and who knows, maybe I did, I don`t remember, buzzz, buzzz.. :) . As promised, much of the pain was relieved after the pins were tightened.

They gave me a day or so to rest after that and then sent over a couple of physiotherapists. It was time to get up and walk. My good friend "C" happened to be visiting with me that afternoon. Unfortunately, it wasn`t my greatest moment. My hair was a disaster, going in every possible direction, some of it sitting atop the halo, some finding its way beneath the metal bars on the side and in the back. I was pasty-faced, groggy, and ridiculously emotional (read: cry baby). I hadn`t yet seen myself in a mirror at this point so there`s a good chance it was even worse than I imagine.

Night of a Thousand Pills

I was transferred to another room that night and, as a result, was assigned a new nurse. I`ll call her nurse Hatchet. She was all huff and a puff business, and on the first night managed to swiftly throw out three of my visitors, including my husband who, had it not been for the fact that he was leaving anyway to go watch a hockey game…would have given her a piece of his mind, yes sir. As soon as my guests were out the door, she went straight to business. She inserted a `fresh` IV, (gee thanks), did the blood pressure and temperature thing, shot me in the gut with heparin, and got me all tucked in, nice and tight. All the while she grumbled about too many visitors.. need rest... hospital, not a party... grumble, grumble, grumble. Of course, she meant well. She just wanted to be sure I got my rest…

Let me say right here that I am the type of person who normally thinks twice about taking two Tylenol instead of one. And if I take two, I am groggy and almost dysfunctional for a good part of the next morning.

While the nurse was tucking me in, I happened to mention I was feeling a wee bit nauseous, probably due to the events of the day. She quickly left the room. Seconds later she returned and injected me with a hefty dose of Gravol which may as well have been a sedative because it just about knocked me out right there and then. Good thing I was already horizontal. Unfortunately, Gravol does nothing for pain, so the nurse also gave me my usual dose of heavyweight painkiller. And, just to make extra sure we got all the pain, she gave me some Tylenol 3 as well. At this point, I didn`t know if it was night or day, nor did I care. She went away for a brief period, looking after the two other patients in my room. A short while later she came back asking if I would like an Ativan. “Ah, Shurrre, why not?” (It`s a bit like asking a drunk person if they are ok to drive, isn`t it?..). And she asked so nicely, I had to say yes. Ativan, for those who are unfamiliar, is an anti-anxiety drug used to treat, well, anxiety. It`s also used for insomnia. I swallowed the pill. I was feeling no pain at this point, but she wasn`t finished with me yet. Unbelievably, she returned soon after with a sleeping pill.

Somehow, a tiny sliver of apprehension managed to break through the fog in my head. I felt the need to ask her if it wasn't all a little too much. Nope, she said, all the medications were on my list of allowed drugs. But.. was I supposed to take them all at the same time? Amazingly, I managed to swallow the last pill. As I drifted into unconsciousness, I felt my entire body vibrate, not shake, not shiver, but vibrate, and seriously wondered if I was going to be able to breathe on my own through the night. I managed to do it, but I don`t know how.

Despite all the pills I was given I woke up a few hours later in terrible pain. I could feel every pin (screw), burning and digging into my skull. I received more pain medication and slept a few more hours until, once again, I awoke with my head on fire.

Deja Vu?

I slept very well that night; I had no choice. The next morning I was feeling nauseous and more nervous than ever about the up-coming procedure. My sister came by and stayed with me while we waited for the return of Dr. Evil :) The pair of doctors finally showed up, this time with the right-sized screws, and once again I was placed in the chopping block position and loaded up with various drugs. Despite the sedatives and local anaesthetic, I very much felt the screws going into my head. How could I not? The one that went in behind my left ear was particularly painful and the feeling of pressure in my head was intense, to say the least. The good thing is that it was over fairly quickly, (although I think the meds might have had something to do with that).

Now, it is not my intention to frighten anyone that may be facing the same thing. This is my experience only, and of course, everyone is different. We all have our own level of tolerance to different types of pain. For instance, I have absolutely no problem with needles of any size, no matter where they go. I can be so relaxed at the dentist that I almost fall asleep sometimes. I have broken my foot and finished vacuuming the house before going to the hospital. I get migraines that sometimes last for days and I can get by on a Tylenol. But, I happen to have a thing about screws going into my skull. Call me crazy.

After the "installation", the doctor had me sit up on the side of the bed so that he could be sure the thing was on straight. As soon as I was vertical I felt as if I had a load of cement sitting on top of my head. It was as if my head was compressed way down into my neck, and at an odd angle, no less. Not a good feeling, trust me. I couldn`t believe I was supposed to stay this way for three months. How could I possibly get used to this? I couldn`t even swallow properly. You don`t realize it, but swallowing is a complicated process which requires movement in the neck and just the right muscle combination to work properly. I was not in a good mood and complained bitterly to the doctor. He played around with the adjustments a bit here and there, but I`m certain it was just to appease me because it made no difference. (I know I sound all whiney here, but I promise my attitude gets better later.) I spent the rest of the day dozing on and off while visitors came and went… Thankfully, most of that day is a blur in my memory…buzzz.

One Size Does Not Fit All

Here's how it went : I was propped up on the bed with my back held straight against a board, and my head supported in a neck brace, while a nurse inserted an IV with something in it to relax me. I had already received a straight-through-the-muscle shot of Gravol to ensure I wouldn`t barf during the process, which wouldn’t have been a good thing I don`t think. Seconds later, I was feeling comfortably …s e d a t e d. The doctor then proceeded to stick four needles in my head to freeze the areas (Ow, ow, ow, and ow.) A few seconds passed… Ok, now I was ready. Let`s just do this and get it over with.

At that moment I noticed a change in the doctor`s demeanour. Something sneaky was going on. He whispered nervously to the other doctor and then there was some kind of commotion. He said to relax, that they’d be back in a minute. I dozed off…buzzz. A few minutes later he came back and told me that the screws they had for the halo were "too small"… That they wouldn`t fit and they didn`t have any other halos at the moment. They would have to come back tomorrow to put the halo on. “WHAT?” He then leaned in close to my face and looked deep into my eyes (I think), and said : “I`m…so…sorry.” At this point he was really just a blur in my vision, but he sounded like he meant it.. I tried, but I couldn`t get mad. I was too buzzed. The rest of that night I had to be put on oxygen because of all the meds they had given me for nothing. Lovely.

Hello Halo!

After days of lying around wondering what they were going to do with me, my neurologist finally paid me a visit and announced that I was going to be immobilized in a halo vest for three months. He explained about the vest, that it would be uncomfortable, that it would restrict my movements and that I would probably be miserable in it, but that it was the ideal solution for my type of fracture. And then he quickly mentioned something about the halo part being screwed into my skull…

Short conversation; here's how it went :

Me: “Um, sorry, what was that thing you said about screws”?
Him: "Yep. That's what I said, in your skull".
Me: "But won't that hurt?"
Him: "Yep".

My neurologist is not a man of many words. He keeps things to the point, no beating around the bush. I immediately started to feel an uncomfortable shaking sensation throughout my body; a feeling I would come to know all too well in the coming weeks.

The hospital I was at is crawling with residents and in the neurology department these residents always come in pairs. One senior and one, well, less senior. On the day I was to have the halo put on, they once again came as a pair, the more senior one taking the lead. That day, my husband had waited with me until late in the evening for them to show up, then finally left, assuming plans had changed. Of course, the second he left, the two showed up.

To say I was nervous would be an understatement of grave proportions. I was literally shaking in my hospital booties. It didn`t help that these two appeared to be totally, and I mean, totally, disorganized. The latex gloves were too small to fit, things that should be sterile were being dropped on the floor, pieces of equipment seemed to be missing… It was so cramped in my tiny hospital room that the doctor kept getting caught in the curtain. He had sweat on his brow. I could see this clearly despite my drug induced state because he was mere inches away from my face as he attempted to find the right position for my halo. All of these things didn`t really work to inspire confidence I have to say.

Welcome

My story is about an unexpected life event. One that has left me thinking endlessly about what could have, might have, or should have been. After much contemplation, I have come to happily accept and find comfort in what is, rather than dwell on, and stress about, what could have been. It is, in the end, all about fate after all, and we all know there is no controlling fate. It is what it is, period. It will do what it wants to do, when it wants, whether we like it or not. In my case it handed me a hefty dose of physical pain mixed in with alot of inconvenience. BUT, and it`s a big but, it allowed me to keep my life. I figure I got off easy.

On December 16, 2008, a frigid but ordinary morning, I was involved in a car accident that left me with a double fracture in the C-2 vertebra in my neck. In order for the fracture to heal, my head and neck had to be immobilized in a special brace called a halo vest. The halo vest consists of a titanium circle of metal placed around the head and held there by four screws attached to the skull bone. Two on each side of the forehead above the eyebrows, and two behind each ear. The circle, or “halo”, is then attached by four titanium posts to a rigid vest that is snugly, and I mean (snugly), fitted onto the torso. The vest is lined on the inside with thick, warm sheepskin, for added comfort...

Of course I had never seen such a device nor did I have any idea what was in store for me, so, once I was able to do so, I scoured the internet, hungry for information. I was disappointed to find relatively little information on-line about other individuals going through, or having gone through, a similar experience to mine. Since I was unable to do any of the things I normally do while wearing the halo vest, i.e.: drive, go to work, exercise…sleep, etc, etc., I decided that I would try to use some of my time to write my story for those who might be facing similar circumstances – or, maybe even for those who have come to take things like, life, and independence, for granted.

Being immobilized in a halo vest is a fairly unique situation to be in, and one that comes with all sorts of unknowns, challenges and mostly, fears. And while it's true my life has been temporarily put on hold, I say Big Deal. And when people say, "You poor thing, it must be terrible", I tell them it's not so bad, because it could have been so. much. worse. But, let me start at the beginning.

What happened…?

I didn’t see him coming on that early Tuesday morning. I was happily chatting with my sister who was sitting right next to me, as we began our drive into work together. By the time I noticed the car bearing down on me it was just…too late. Within a second of making my left-hand turn, I heard, and felt, a crushing blow to the driver’s side of my car. I also heard, and felt, a not-so-pleasant cracking in my upper neck. The pain was fierce and immediate, and I grabbed at my neck knowing instinctively it was something bad. Despite the excruciating pain, I was relieved to find I was able to move my legs, which I did compulsively throughout the ordeal. I also noticed that I had normal feeling in my arms, and everywhere else, for that matter. My sister who was mere inches away escaped without injury, thank God, as did her boyfriend who sat in the back. I would have never forgiven myself if anything had happened to her. She is and always will be my “little” sister and trusts me, (trusted me?), to take her safely to work and back every day.

Within minutes of the crash, my husband was by my side, and the ambulance and fire department arrived soon after. While the fire-fighters proceeded to do serious damage to my car, (that’s ok, I forgive you), I was fitted with a tight cervical collar, carefully put onto a backboard, tucked into an inflatable cocoon that ensured I didn’t move an inch, and whisked away by ambulance to the nearest hospital. My husband followed closely behind, as did the ambulance carrying my sister who, thankfully, was deemed to be without serious injury later that morning. It was an absolutely surreal experience. Since I was unable to move, my vision was narrowly restricted to the area directly above my head. I couldn't see anything that was going on around me, however, I could hear plenty, including the screaming siren of the ambulance - and it was frightening to say the least.

Once at the hospital, I was quickly wheeled into an examination room where ER staff cut the clothing off of my body. A ridiculously young-looking ER doctor then stuck me with pins all over to determine whether I had any nerve damage but thankfully, everything seemed fine on the neurological front. They nonetheless continued to stick me with pins on a daily basis throughout my stay in the hospital. Next came a quick abdominal ultrasound to see whether I had any internal damage and/or bleeding. I didn`t. After that, the doctor examined my neck and said he didn`t believe anything was broken but that we should get an x-ray, just to confirm... A nurse then gave me a shot of…God knows what, which relaxed me a little but barely took the edge off the pain. I still couldn`t move my head a fraction of an inch without feeling excruciating pain so once I arrived at x-ray, I was astonished to hear the radiologist ask me if I could stand up(!) for the procedure. Short conversation; here`s how it went :

NO!

All the while I`m thinking about that cracking I felt in my neck on impact. What the heck was that? I’m not moving until they tell me there`s nothing broken. Well, not long after that, (in painkiller time..), the ER doctor came back to tell me I was very lucky, and that there was nothing broken. He said I just had a severe sprain in my neck and quickly removed my neck brace.

"So.., he said, with a big smile on his face, let`s see if you can get up. If you can, you`re free to leave”. Fantastic, I thought, excellent news. All that worry for nothing! This is going to hurt, but hey, it`s just pain, there`s nothing broken! I tried my very, very, very hardest to get up. I really wanted to go home - and so did my exhausted husband, (who unlike me, was not on painkiller time). But the pain was simply excruciating. I tried once, twice, three times, all the while grasping my neck to give it some support. Finally, the doctor yelled for me to stop and put the brace back on. He said this didn`t seem normal and decided to send me for a scan thinking now that there might be some ligament damage.

Long story short, I have a double fracture in my upper neck known as a “hangman`s fracture”. Lovely name I know. And, well, they happened to miss it on the x-ray. No further explanation is provided by the radiologist.

Despite this gigantic error, I found the ER doctor to be kind and compassionate. He told me that it was rare for someone to present at the hospital with this type of unstable fracture and not have neurological consequenes. He said this is why he did not suspect serious damage at first, adding that I was extremely lucky given the injury I sustained. Every neurologist I would see after that (and I saw many), would tell me the same thing. It is very humbling, and I was, am, and always will be, hugely grateful.

From that moment on my every move was scrutinized and I was not permitted to move an inch. For awhile I was not even allowed to raise my arm to scratch my nose! I was prepared for transfer to an Ottawa hospital where I would likely undergo surgery that night. As it happened, I was transferred to the other hospital but did not require surgery that night. However, my fracture was unstable, and for four days, while neurosurgeons decided how they would deal with my injury, I remained braced and miserably flat on my back unable to move and in a lot of pain. I was kept medicated for the neck pain, but nothing helped the back pain I was feeling from not being able to move. It was probably the hardest thing for me to deal with at that point. I was on a glucose IV because it was pretty much impossible to eat in that position without choking to death.. Though after a while I did master the art of swallowing giant pills while on my back. I hope that little trick never comes in handy again.

Three times a day during my entire seven-day stay at the hospital, a nurse would come and jab me in the stomach with a needle full of heparin, an anticoagulant used to reduce the risk of blood clots from lack of movement. You would think that would be horrible, and at first it was, but amazingly, like anything else, you get used to it quickly, and then needles in your stomach seem like a minor thing in the scheme of things.

I had many friends and family members surrounding me during my time at the hospital. Being buzzed on painkillers is hard on the memory though, and thinking back, I now have trouble putting the pieces of memory back together. Some things I remember clearly, while others, well, buzzzz. I am very grateful to all of those who took time out of their busy lives to come and see me. Although the details of your visit may be vague, I know exactly who you are. (Thank you).