Brace yourselves - the long promised letter from my dad. It did take days after all! I confess I haven't managed to get on the blog yet, but I intend to soon. Thank you Mum for typing this up - you are a true star.
Airasa
Dear Friends, profane and secular families and all other loved ones in my circle,
Being paralysed from the nipples down and having only gross arm movements (i.e., I can’t control my fingers) has, as you might imagine, a host of frustrating problems. Surprisingly the most irksome is: I can’t pick my nose. I have no control of my elimination functions, but people are generally willing to clean me as necessary. I can’t feed myself but there’s no problem with people stepping forward, even with alacrity, to put food in my mouth. But pick my nose? Yes, they’re willing to use Q-tips to rummage around in my nostrils; yes, they’re even willing to roll up some facial tissue and rummage around in my breathing apparatus, but sometimes you just need to pick your nose! The importance of this task has been brought vividly to mind because of all the breathing equipment I am having to deal with, from bi-PAP to nebuliser, to oxygen nostril inserts. Who would have thunk it?
Airasa, and perhaps Linda, has given you a reasonably thorough description of what happened. I would like to give my versions of events, mostly because of my egocentricity.
On January 6th, at around 4 a.m., I got into Airasa and Ian’s bath tub/shower to freshen up before a long flight to LA. I had just gotten more or less thoroughly wet when I turned and grabbed the washcloth I had been using during my visit, located at the back of the tub. English bathrooms are often separate from the toilet; it is also common for older buildings and Airasa and Ian’s flat dates from the 1950s. (Comment from Ian: 1930s actually) There is a high bathtub with a flexible portable shower head for the shower function. In their case, the shower curtain drapes down slightly into the bathtub itself. As I turned to get the washcloth, I stepped on the shower curtain and started to slip. I grabbed the shower curtain to steady myself, but instead pulled the shower curtain down with its rod and stumbled backwards against the tub side. Because of its height, it hit me in the back of the knees, causing me to tumble out of the tub, into the narrow space between the tub and radiator.
I cracked my head against the radiator and found myself wedged between the bathtub and the radiator and soon discovered I was basically bereft of feeling or muscle control in most of my body. Naturally I yelled “HELP” and “Airasa” and “Ian” as loud as I could, numerous times. I also banged the shower rod against the door, as it had fallen in the crook of my left elbow. Unfortunately the spatial arrangement between their bedroom and the bathroom made it impossible for them to hear me. [Linda’s note: The house is converted and Airasa and Ian’s 2nd bedroom is converted from the previous garage. There is a brick wall and a hallway with stairs to the upper floor flat between where Graham was and Airasa and Ian’s bedroom.]
As the shower curtain had fallen over my face, there was a real panic that I was going to die by suffocation. However, Linda was coming to pick me up at 4:30a.m. to take me to Leeds Bradford Airport so I vowed that I wasn’t going to die, just yet. She did arrive at 4:30 and I yelled ‘Linda, help, call Ian’, she did and soon they found me. They called 999 (the Brits always have to do things slightly differently than us Yanks) and about 15 minutes later the 1st ambulance arrived [with two paramedics]. Because of my position, and the narrowness of the room, they had to call another crew [of two paramedics] to help take me to LGI where I am now. [Linda’s note: They had to figure out how to move him carefully in order not to cause further damage. They took the door of the bathroom off and put him into a neck brace and tight ‘jacket’ and shifted him around 3 corners onto the stretcher outside the entrance door to accomplish this and it took nearly 45 minutes to do this.]
It would be a grave misunderstanding to regard my rendition of the accident as pointing blame at anyone, particularly given that this is my fourth trip to England I have dealt with English bathing facilities of this sort on all my trips without incident. It’s just, although Linda phrases it differently, it was just bad luck and trouble. What’s most important now is that the spinal cord is seriously bruised rather than frayed, cut or severed. A vertebra has been cracked, but it is not impinging on the spinal cord. Furthermore, and it’s a blessing of no end, I can breathe on my own, even though the doctors feel breathing support is quite beneficial.
But the most important aspect of my situation is that I am in excellent medical hands. A pearl beyond price, I don’t have to worry about money to pay for this excellent treatment, or at least not in the way that I would have if this accident had happened in the good ol’ US of A.
There are no words to describe how profoundly I have been touched and moved by the deluge of love, support, concern and shameless offers of help in any way anyone can from dozens of people, many of whom, probably because of my self centeredness, I had no idea held me in high regard.
Of course, there’s no escaping the good news/bad news character of the universe. The aspect of my condition that most strongly reminds me of this universal law is my present habitation in LGI. The good news, as referenced previously, is that I’m under the care of excellent staff (although it’s a real challenge to keep track of them all). The bad news is that I am tormented by English hospital cuisine. However tasty the choices sound, their preparation achieves new meaning to bad food. Fortunately, I am allowed to supplement the hospital offerings with food brought from outside. Ian, Airasa, and Linda have been true angels in bringing me decent, nay delicious, fare. Of course, they’ve done much more than cater to my culinary needs, which all of you have come to understand deeply in the last week.
I cannot possibly reply individually, as much as I would like; however a blog http://www.ufoespblog.blogspot.com (thank you so much, Sue) has been established where updates can be posted and anyone can post messages. I have a team dealing with my financial and other living needs in Goleta, so there’s no need for anyone to worry at this point about problems relating to my income and bill paying, etc.
A few personal messages:
Ernie, I feel much more confident about my affairs being sorted out sensibly now you’re in charge of the mail. Given that you live only 2 to 3 blocks away and you have reliable transportation, it makes much more sense for you to do this. Thank you.
Lynne, Randy, Elaine L, Steve J – Yes, I demand that you keep me posted on baseball and football news!
Craig and Lorraine – You got it all wrong, bucko, this accident was not a secret plan to extend my holiday; it was a secret plan to immigrate to England! Thank you for the CD player offer, but it’s better we get one here – different electricity – you can, however, prepare music tapes -- if you’re inspired to do so (This one goes for you, Randy, Ernie, and Richard, too).
Yesterday the hospital staff chaplain, a priest of the Church of England, said to me as he left my bedside, “As hard as it is, you must rest into the healing.”
I am going to do that now.
Love,
Graham