Lightning Count
Member
Back in 2008, I was struggling for money, I had left one job, very briefly moved onto another that I absolutely hated and quit shortly thereafter. In the summer I got hired by a recycling firm.
The wages were pitiful and the job was tedious with long hours involving lots of heavy lifting. A typical working day started at 7 am and carried on to 5 pm. I worked as a picker if you want to call it that. The site I worked up processed skips (think a giant dumpster for you US GAF folks) which typically came from building sites, house clearances and the like. As a picker we were required to comb through the contents for items worth recycling, such as metal, aluminium, wood, copper wiring and stone and masonry (the site produced it's own cement, gravel and sold on usable masonry stones to builders). Also involved was baling cardboard and plastic from time to time.
Working conditions are hardly what I would describe as ideal, we were given no safety equipment beyond a high visibility vest and some gloves, no hard hats and steel toe capped safety boots were provided for us. I myself only had a pair of such boots that I wore at work because I already had a pair from a previous job.
Before my big accident there had been at least one close call I know of involving improper use of a forklift to move a piece of machinery. It should also be noted that some members of staff at time to time operated heavy machinery which had they had no relevant qualification or certificate for. But because the site was on privately owned land and not a council run operation this happened on a semi regular basis.
On the site we frequently worked alongside machines like this front loader and tracked excavators.
It so transpired that on the morning of the 14th of November, 2008 at 9.45 am (a date and time permanently burned into my memory) I was crushed by the 13.5 ton tracked excavator that operated on the site.
As a result both of my shins and ankles were broken, I suffered a degloving injury which ripped half of my left calf off. As it happened I was in disbelief, I could see the machine closing in on me, I tried to walk away to get out of it's path to no avail, the machine struck my legs knocking me down onto my back. I was trapped under the tracks of the machine screaming out in agony, Rafael, the driver was inside unaware of what happened, he was inside the closed cab he could not hear me my screams drowned out by the noise of the engine and the in cab radio. It wasn't until my colleague Shawn banged on the side of the cab he was knew what was going on, the excavator was then driven back off of my legs the way it had came.
As I lay on my back in shock, I could see the others gathering round, Rafael was in shock, in his mind he had crippled me permanently all colour had drained from him as he realised the enormity of what had happened. The others had dashed off to the office to call an ambulance, I laid on my back, a pool of my own blood forming around my legs. I tried to lift my left leg, my shin and ankle, moved limply as though they were no longer connected to the rest of my body. I called out to Shaun and told him to get my mobile phone and call my mother to tell her what had happened. I waited for the ambulance to come, I'm told it took approximately twenty minutes for them to arrive. The paramedics surveyed the situation and loaded me into an ambulance, I have suffered an open fracture, meaning the bones of my left leg have ripped through my skin and are exposed, the paramedics are worried about the amount of blood I have lost.
They load me into an ambulance and I am taken off to hospital, to my surprise, a police officer was in the ambulance with me (I later learned that it is standard practice in the UK for Police to be called in an accident of this severity.) I had not noticed their presence on the scene until this point. I am placed on a heavy painkiller administered through a breathing mask for the duration of the trip.
At the hospital I placed into an area to be prepped for surgery, my mother arrives and we talk for a while. I am eventually placed under general anaesthetic for an emergency surgery. When I awaken I find my left has been placed in an external fixation device, there are metal rods sticking out of my shin and ankle holding my broken bones in place. The skin of my left leg has gone a horrifying black, the tissue is dead, damaged beyond all repair in the accident, my right leg is more fortunate, while still suffering with a broken shin and ankle, it thankfully did not sustain any damage to muscle or other soft tissues.
They keep me for six days, before I am moved to another hospital with a sophisticated burns units, that specialises in soft tissue injury. I am transported by ambulance once again. They perform three skin grafts on my left leg using tissue from my thighs. They also attempt a muscle graft, they cut away my left lat and try to use to rebuild the muscle, unfortunately it does not succeed, this leaves me with a 33 inch long scar, going from my armpit to the middle of my back.
During this time Rafael and one other of my old work mates Andre visit me, Rafael is a wreck, he looks like hasn't slept at all, he also smells of alcohol, he's been drinking trying to drown his sorrows, in his mind I will be wheelchair bound forever. I bear no ill will towards him over what happened, if anything I feel a great sympathy for him as he feels guilty for what happened. He later told me, he quit his job no longer wanting to be around heavy machinery, last I heard he had gotten a job at a hotel somewhere.
I spend a total of 45 days on total bed rest, unable to move, I have to use bedpans to take a dump and bottles to pee in, basic hygiene is handled by nurses giving me a sponge bath each morning. I feel totally powerless, like a baby again, dependent on it's parents for everything. The biggest enemy I find however is not my physical condition but boredom, days of lying in bed means I am hardly using any energy and it is messing with my sleep patterns, I often spend nights fully awake staring at the ceiling unable to sleep. It is also having a profound effect on my digestive system, I endure two severe bouts of constipation, each time being resolve through the use of suppositories, it is the most horrible feeling, sitting there for half an hour with this gel up my arse waiting for it take effect, the whole time feeling as if suffering diarrhea while the suppositories work. Also I have days where I cannot eat or drink as I am placed on nil by mouth for my major operations which require the use of general anaesthetic.
Finally I am able to do some basic physiotherapy, at first I can barely move, the muscles in my legs have wasted away giving me almost no lower body strength, I struggle to move more than a few feet at first and I am in pain, my ankles have not borne any weight in a long time, when I first stand up, I feel as though they might give way on me. Eventually with the aid of a stand and crutches I am able to gradually move about more.
Finally on the 20th of January, I am discharged from hospital for the first time. I engage in a very short romance with an orderly from the hospital who I met in my last week's stay. I flirted with her during my time on the ward and my love of animals found in her a kindred spirit. Unfortunately it does not last, we go on one date after I am discharged, but we go our separate ways.
Life is very basic, I can hardly stand for more than 10 minutes at a time and I can only manage short distances on my crutches. I cannot even carry a plate of food or a drink on my own. My life mainly consists of appointments at the local Doctor's surgery for dressing changes three times a week and visits to the bone clinic. I spend pretty much all of my free time at home. I am frequently on antibiotics to combat infections that keep breaking out.
Around the 20th of November 2009, I am re-admitted into hospital for a serious infection, it is eventually determined that I have a deep seated bone infection. They treat the infection but warn me I am likely to be highly prone to these infections as time goes on. I have a serious think about my situation, the doctor's say the most they can do is to fuse my ankle and try to treat the infections, they warn this could take up to a year and there is no guarantee of any success. I am discharged on the 22nd of December 2009.
I think long and hard on my situation, the best that can be done is for my leg to be amputated so I can be fitted with a prosthetic limb, this will allow me to regain, most of my quality of life and my mobility. I approach my doctor's and my lawyer with this proposal, the experts agree that this would probably be the best course of action going forward.
On February 5th 2010, I am moved to a private hospital and my left leg is amputated below the knee, I stay there until the 1st of March. After this I am moved to the Oxford Centre for Enablement, they manage my stump so it can reduce in swelling enough for me to be fitted with a prosthetic limb. By the middle of April, I receive several castings for my prosthesis, in the days leading up to this I do 2 hours of physiotherapy every morning to get me into shape. After an alteration I am finally fitted with my first prosthetic leg, this takes some getting used to, prior to this I had been in a wheelchair for nearly three months, standing upright and being at my full height feels alien for a time. I use my leg only sparingly at first but within 6 days, I am able to walk normally again, with no crutches, walking sticks or other mobility aids.
I have included some pictures from my time in hospital, I will warn you that these are not for the faint of heart.
I will answer any questions as best as I can about what happened but please keep them reasonable and respectful.
The wages were pitiful and the job was tedious with long hours involving lots of heavy lifting. A typical working day started at 7 am and carried on to 5 pm. I worked as a picker if you want to call it that. The site I worked up processed skips (think a giant dumpster for you US GAF folks) which typically came from building sites, house clearances and the like. As a picker we were required to comb through the contents for items worth recycling, such as metal, aluminium, wood, copper wiring and stone and masonry (the site produced it's own cement, gravel and sold on usable masonry stones to builders). Also involved was baling cardboard and plastic from time to time.
Working conditions are hardly what I would describe as ideal, we were given no safety equipment beyond a high visibility vest and some gloves, no hard hats and steel toe capped safety boots were provided for us. I myself only had a pair of such boots that I wore at work because I already had a pair from a previous job.
Before my big accident there had been at least one close call I know of involving improper use of a forklift to move a piece of machinery. It should also be noted that some members of staff at time to time operated heavy machinery which had they had no relevant qualification or certificate for. But because the site was on privately owned land and not a council run operation this happened on a semi regular basis.
On the site we frequently worked alongside machines like this front loader and tracked excavators.
It so transpired that on the morning of the 14th of November, 2008 at 9.45 am (a date and time permanently burned into my memory) I was crushed by the 13.5 ton tracked excavator that operated on the site.
As a result both of my shins and ankles were broken, I suffered a degloving injury which ripped half of my left calf off. As it happened I was in disbelief, I could see the machine closing in on me, I tried to walk away to get out of it's path to no avail, the machine struck my legs knocking me down onto my back. I was trapped under the tracks of the machine screaming out in agony, Rafael, the driver was inside unaware of what happened, he was inside the closed cab he could not hear me my screams drowned out by the noise of the engine and the in cab radio. It wasn't until my colleague Shawn banged on the side of the cab he was knew what was going on, the excavator was then driven back off of my legs the way it had came.
As I lay on my back in shock, I could see the others gathering round, Rafael was in shock, in his mind he had crippled me permanently all colour had drained from him as he realised the enormity of what had happened. The others had dashed off to the office to call an ambulance, I laid on my back, a pool of my own blood forming around my legs. I tried to lift my left leg, my shin and ankle, moved limply as though they were no longer connected to the rest of my body. I called out to Shaun and told him to get my mobile phone and call my mother to tell her what had happened. I waited for the ambulance to come, I'm told it took approximately twenty minutes for them to arrive. The paramedics surveyed the situation and loaded me into an ambulance, I have suffered an open fracture, meaning the bones of my left leg have ripped through my skin and are exposed, the paramedics are worried about the amount of blood I have lost.
They load me into an ambulance and I am taken off to hospital, to my surprise, a police officer was in the ambulance with me (I later learned that it is standard practice in the UK for Police to be called in an accident of this severity.) I had not noticed their presence on the scene until this point. I am placed on a heavy painkiller administered through a breathing mask for the duration of the trip.
At the hospital I placed into an area to be prepped for surgery, my mother arrives and we talk for a while. I am eventually placed under general anaesthetic for an emergency surgery. When I awaken I find my left has been placed in an external fixation device, there are metal rods sticking out of my shin and ankle holding my broken bones in place. The skin of my left leg has gone a horrifying black, the tissue is dead, damaged beyond all repair in the accident, my right leg is more fortunate, while still suffering with a broken shin and ankle, it thankfully did not sustain any damage to muscle or other soft tissues.
They keep me for six days, before I am moved to another hospital with a sophisticated burns units, that specialises in soft tissue injury. I am transported by ambulance once again. They perform three skin grafts on my left leg using tissue from my thighs. They also attempt a muscle graft, they cut away my left lat and try to use to rebuild the muscle, unfortunately it does not succeed, this leaves me with a 33 inch long scar, going from my armpit to the middle of my back.
During this time Rafael and one other of my old work mates Andre visit me, Rafael is a wreck, he looks like hasn't slept at all, he also smells of alcohol, he's been drinking trying to drown his sorrows, in his mind I will be wheelchair bound forever. I bear no ill will towards him over what happened, if anything I feel a great sympathy for him as he feels guilty for what happened. He later told me, he quit his job no longer wanting to be around heavy machinery, last I heard he had gotten a job at a hotel somewhere.
I spend a total of 45 days on total bed rest, unable to move, I have to use bedpans to take a dump and bottles to pee in, basic hygiene is handled by nurses giving me a sponge bath each morning. I feel totally powerless, like a baby again, dependent on it's parents for everything. The biggest enemy I find however is not my physical condition but boredom, days of lying in bed means I am hardly using any energy and it is messing with my sleep patterns, I often spend nights fully awake staring at the ceiling unable to sleep. It is also having a profound effect on my digestive system, I endure two severe bouts of constipation, each time being resolve through the use of suppositories, it is the most horrible feeling, sitting there for half an hour with this gel up my arse waiting for it take effect, the whole time feeling as if suffering diarrhea while the suppositories work. Also I have days where I cannot eat or drink as I am placed on nil by mouth for my major operations which require the use of general anaesthetic.
Finally I am able to do some basic physiotherapy, at first I can barely move, the muscles in my legs have wasted away giving me almost no lower body strength, I struggle to move more than a few feet at first and I am in pain, my ankles have not borne any weight in a long time, when I first stand up, I feel as though they might give way on me. Eventually with the aid of a stand and crutches I am able to gradually move about more.
Finally on the 20th of January, I am discharged from hospital for the first time. I engage in a very short romance with an orderly from the hospital who I met in my last week's stay. I flirted with her during my time on the ward and my love of animals found in her a kindred spirit. Unfortunately it does not last, we go on one date after I am discharged, but we go our separate ways.
Life is very basic, I can hardly stand for more than 10 minutes at a time and I can only manage short distances on my crutches. I cannot even carry a plate of food or a drink on my own. My life mainly consists of appointments at the local Doctor's surgery for dressing changes three times a week and visits to the bone clinic. I spend pretty much all of my free time at home. I am frequently on antibiotics to combat infections that keep breaking out.
Around the 20th of November 2009, I am re-admitted into hospital for a serious infection, it is eventually determined that I have a deep seated bone infection. They treat the infection but warn me I am likely to be highly prone to these infections as time goes on. I have a serious think about my situation, the doctor's say the most they can do is to fuse my ankle and try to treat the infections, they warn this could take up to a year and there is no guarantee of any success. I am discharged on the 22nd of December 2009.
I think long and hard on my situation, the best that can be done is for my leg to be amputated so I can be fitted with a prosthetic limb, this will allow me to regain, most of my quality of life and my mobility. I approach my doctor's and my lawyer with this proposal, the experts agree that this would probably be the best course of action going forward.
On February 5th 2010, I am moved to a private hospital and my left leg is amputated below the knee, I stay there until the 1st of March. After this I am moved to the Oxford Centre for Enablement, they manage my stump so it can reduce in swelling enough for me to be fitted with a prosthetic limb. By the middle of April, I receive several castings for my prosthesis, in the days leading up to this I do 2 hours of physiotherapy every morning to get me into shape. After an alteration I am finally fitted with my first prosthetic leg, this takes some getting used to, prior to this I had been in a wheelchair for nearly three months, standing upright and being at my full height feels alien for a time. I use my leg only sparingly at first but within 6 days, I am able to walk normally again, with no crutches, walking sticks or other mobility aids.
I have included some pictures from my time in hospital, I will warn you that these are not for the faint of heart.
This was taken after my initial admission, the metal framework is an external fixation device holding my broken bones into place.
The blackened flesh seen here is dead and was later cut away.
This picture was taken during a vacuum dressing change, a very painful procedure, this about a month after the accident following the skin grafts.
This is how my leg looked like for over a year after my being discharged from hospital.
Scar on my back from muscle graft.
The day after the amputation.
Me wearing one of my prosthetic legs.
The blackened flesh seen here is dead and was later cut away.
This picture was taken during a vacuum dressing change, a very painful procedure, this about a month after the accident following the skin grafts.
This is how my leg looked like for over a year after my being discharged from hospital.
Scar on my back from muscle graft.
The day after the amputation.
Me wearing one of my prosthetic legs.
I will answer any questions as best as I can about what happened but please keep them reasonable and respectful.
