Our newsroom has explored many "First Person Exploits into the Unknown" in the past few years, but this one - about how I broke my arm and the progress of my recovery - gives a new twist to the premise.
Among other things, this exploit was completely unplanned on my part, and given the mess it caused for me personally and for the newspaper, I think there would have been better ways to fill space in the paper.
The arm injury took me off work for several weeks and was a major inconvenience. Months later I have not completely recovered, but I do feel almost fully functional, so now I'll be able to tell my story.
March 3, I had stayed late at work waiting for the Canadian Taxpayers' Federation to show up so I could do a story on their National Debt Clock that had rolled into the city on its tour of Canada.
The debt clock stopped just outside our office on the street, right beside the fire hall. I interviewed their spokesperson, Scott Fennig inside the building, and then went outside to take pictures of the debt clock as it was running. I noticed the street looked icy, so I resolved to be careful.
I snapped a few photos, but there was a problem - the sun was getting in the way of the numbers on the clock, so I couldn't get a good shot. I wanted to get a better shot, so I stepped back and
WHAM!
I had stepped on a slippery patch and hit the deck, landing on my left side. Fennig asked if I was all right, and I got up and told him I was. Then I started to feel faint, a sure sign I had broken something. "Wait a minute, I am not all right."
My first thought was to somehow get back into the News-Optimist building before I passed out. I made it in and sat down; meanwhile fellow reporter Tara Scaglione called 911.
So that led to my exploit into the unknown - being cared for by the first responders. I had never been in an emergency like this before.
WPD Ambulance arrived really fast, within five minutes.
The paramedics asked me if this injury had anything to do with hitting my head (very important). They ended up slicing up a good shirt I had been wearing and stabilized my arm. Because I was still feeling woozy and on the verge of passing out, they set me up with an oxygen tank which pumped oxygen through my nose.
The oxygen seemed to do wonders as I revived quickly. After a few minutes, the paramedics strapped me on their gurney and lifted me into the ambulance to take me to the emergency room at Battlefords Union Hospital. Of course, Tara snapped a photo of me getting taken away.
At BUH I was checked into what was a really busy emergency room. In fact, initially they didn't think they had room for me, but very quickly a room was found.
The staff obtained all my information, including the ones about my allergies to certain medications.
The doctor on duty eventually made it in and checked over my arm and also my left hand to see if I could make motions with my fingers. I guess he wanted to make sure there was no nerve damage.
In any event, the doctor told me I had fractured the "humerus" bone in my left arm. That's the bone between the shoulder and the elbow. I would need a cast. I was also told a specialist from Saskatoon would be dealing with me later.
I waited for what was going to happen next. I was still being administered oxygen and later was given a painkiller. Then, finally, I was wheeled into the medical imaging area for x-rays.
I was shown the x-ray by the guy who was going to put me in the cast, and got the news. I was going to have to be off work for six weeks. My arm had to be put out of action for that time - it needed to be completely still.
He then showed me photos of other patients illustrating what happened with their broken humerus bones, and how some of them came apart because these folks decided to get up and about too soon. "Your choice," he said.
I just wanted to behealed up - whatever I needed to do, I was going to do.
The next step was to put on the cast. "After I'm done with you, you will feel no pain," he said. My arm was put in the right position and the plaster went on. Finally came the sling.
I was in the cast, and in a pretty sorry state, but at least now I wasn't in major pain and was no longer on the brink of passing out.
There was one more bit of good news: at least my right arm wasn't affected, and I'm right-handed.
The next step was to get a ride home from the hospital. Tara picked me up. First order of business was to go to McDonald's, as this whole broken-arm business had interfered with my dinner hour.
After that, Tara rounded up some friends who could drive my car back home from the office, since I was in no shape to drive it myself. Back home, I immediately decided I was in no shape to stick around my own apartment. I needed to do as little as possible so that my arm could heal, and didn't want to exert myself too much with my one good right hand.
I called my parents in Saskatoon with the news. After getting over the initial shock, my understanding parents agreed to allow me to stay with them back home in Saskatoon for a few days.
Initially it was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, but I ended up staying there for most of the next six weeks. I couldn't drive and could barely function with my one good hand. I tried sitting in front of a computer, but found it a strain to use one hand to do any typing at all. The cast interfered with basic things such personal hygiene and sleeping. The cast also got in the way when it came to eating, and it was also straining my back.
I say all this just to explain what my situation was at the time, not because I was whining about it. At the time I was mainly worried about whether I would be able to properly use my left hand to type again.
I spent the first several days sitting in a chair, watching TV and listening to the radio, trying to get my mind off the situation.
The following Friday, I was back in the Battlefords for the next step - putting my arm in a brace. I went to the cast clinic, where my clunky cast was removed. The new brace and I would keep company over the next several weeks.
The brace was paid for by Worker's Compensation- and that is something else I had no prior experience with. Because I was injured on the job, I was entitled to worker's compensation. It was a lifesaver as far as my wallet was concerned, but it also was a bit of a headache having to fill in all forms and answering what seemed like irrelevant questions on the paperwork. There was extensive bureaucracy involved and that caused a lot of confusion initially.
Another initial headache was coming back to the Battlefords each week for x-ray appointments at BUH when I was recuperating in Saskatoon.
Eventually I got a call from the office of the specialist in Saskatoon to set up an appointment there.
Soon after that I went back for another x-ray at BUH and this time the doctor decided he didn't like what he saw. My broken bones still weren't in alignment. He recommended booking the appointment with Saskatoon.
You can imagine what frame of mind I was in after that - having been told the bone wasn't healing well and getting referred to a specialist. I was beginning to worry I would have to go under the knife and get my bone wired together.
The next week I went to see the specialist at Royal University Hospital, and he seemed a lot calmer. He said he'd seen situations where the bones were way out of alignment but they eventually healed anyway.
That was a relief. He also recommended a number of exercises I could do. I noticed I was feeling a little better over the next several days - feeling stronger. I was looking forward to the day when I might be able to remove the brace. By this point, I was accustomed to having my arm in a sling, but I was getting anxious to use my arm again and get back to work.
Being off work was beginning to drive me crazy. The federal government had been defeated in the house and an election was called, and instead of covering all this excitement like I normally would, here I was sitting in an arm brace at home watching "Entourage" reruns and NCAA basketball games.
What's worse, our editor Becky Doig was having surgery of her own and would be out of commission during the month of April.
Our newsroom was in complete chaos during this time, with both the editor and the main political reporter out of action. Our election coverage basically went to pieces during that period. We scrapped the traditional all-candidates page because of the health crises in the newsroom.
The chaos didn't go unnoticed. One reader sent an angry letter criticizing us for our abysmal election coverage efforts.
The other thing that happened with me out of commission was the now famous April Fool's Day edition of the Regional Optimist.
I tuned in to the distant signal of CJNB while sitting with my arm in a sling in Saskatoon April 1, and sat there mouth agape listening to our publisher's familiar voice on the radio apologizing for the phony story about the scrapping of the CUPlex project.
That was definitely yet another "First Person Exploit into the Unknown" - being reduced to spectator status with respect to big events at your own newspaper.
By that point I was off work for almost a month and was getting fed up with having my arm out of commission. This fractured-humerus business was getting to be a real nuisance.
As I moved closer to the date I would be going back to see the doctor, I found I started having more trouble sleeping at night, and my arm was itching. And I couldn't scratch the itch because my arm was in a brace.
Three weeks went by and I saw the specialist again, and I was asking him about the itching. He ended up taking off the brace - it was about time for it to come off, anyway.
We discovered an infection. There was an infection covering my arm!
I don't want to gross people out, but this thing was pretty ugly. Fortunately, it looked worse than it actually was. So that meant a trip to the nurse's office to get my arm cleaned up with hydrogen peroxide. We were thinking that somewhere along the line my arm had some sort of reaction to either the plaster or the confinement it was in.
That was the bad news. The good news is that the x-ray looked really good. My arm was healing!
The doctor decided my arm needed air to get rid of the infection, so the brace came off for good. My arm remained in a sling, though, and it was still swollen, but now I could go back to work!
That was in mid-April. For the next several weeks since then I have been struggling to get my arm back to working order.
For the first few weeks I continued to have my arm in a sling, but on doctors' advice was able to remove it from the sling often to exercise it and to lift a fork, read books, type and so on. Typing was initially difficult and painful and I had some flare-ups of shoulder pain during the morning hours.
I was also able to get around from place to place. People who saw me during that time will probably say I could still have used more time off, but I felt I could at least though my left hand was still in a lot of pain.
I was able to cover the election forum and then election night from Gerry Ritz's campaign office.
Finally, in May I got the all-clear from the doctor to remove the sling and was referred to physical therapy - the next chapter of my health care adventures.
I needed therapy, because my arm was still stiff and I was still having trouble doing such things as washing my face and putting my hands on top of my head.
I considered a number of places for physiotherapy in the Battlefords, but finally went with Battlefords Physiotherapy. I chose that place on the recommendation of city communications co-ordinator Mike Halstead, himself a broken-bones veteran, who had used the place for his recovery. Once again, Worker's Compensation paid the bills.
My arm's recovery has been rapid in the month since I began physiotherapy. I am able reach behind my head and behind my back, and do a number of things it has not been doing before, and I notice I am slowly getting my strength back.
I am still doing physiotherapy and I still have some stiffness in the arm and my hand, but other than that continue to feel better every day. Most importantly, I don't really feel "injured" at all anymore.
I was fortunate to have the support of my mom and dad, who put up with me being around several weeks, as well as co-workers at the paper who helped out in those early days.
The one thing I've tried to do during this whole process is not feel down on myself for this whole predicament I found myself in. "It's only a broken arm," I kept reminding myself, and not something worse.
I remember during the early days tuning into reports of hockey players who were badly injured with broken vertebrae or concussions, and I'd feel fortunate in comparison.
Also, I remember staying up late to watch the coverage of the horrible Japan earthquake that took place a week after I was injured. Even with my arm, I felt fortunate not to be going through what those folks were going through.
There are worse things in life than suffering a broken arm, but one broken arm incident is enough for me!
