It may be every good story, or a story with a good outcome, may have started with the potential for a tragic outcome. At least my story started that way in July 1985. Looking back 31 years, it is difficult to imagine that I’ve come so far with the type of injury I had, but yet, here I am. There is something to be said for the grace of God.
July 1985 was a hot month, and at that time I was employed and working in a day treatment program, often with individuals who had difficulty managing their behaviors. Sometimes these individuals can be unpredictable, and often very aggressive. That is what happened to me.
It was the middle of the week, just after lunch, waiting for the next group of residents, and looking forward to going home for the day. The morning had been challenging, perhaps it was the full moon, but that afternoon was music time, and the residents seemed to enjoy the music. The door opened and two other staff ‘escorted’ one of the clients into the room and said “Kendra is here for program.” (Not her real name of course.) They left in a hurry. To this day I don’t really hate them for doing this, but if they were bleeding in the street, it would be very difficult not to pass them by, or maybe even kick them just a little bit before calling 911 very slowly.
Kendra walked in and then all hell broke loose. She picked up a chair and swung it at the top of my head. I ducked and grabbed the chair forcing it to the ground. In retrospect it may have been better to run out the door, but the client was between myself and the door, stood about three inches taller, and outweighed me by about 80 pounds, and was stronger than an ox. I knew I was screwed. Once the chair was on the ground she let go of the chair, grabbed me (yup screwed!) and threw me against the wall. I have never hit anything so hard in all my life, and highly doubt I ever will again. I slid down the wall and Kendra charged for me in a blind rage. She grabbed me again and slammed me against the wall. Yup - screwed and hurting very badly. Diagnostic tests would later reveal two broken vertebrae and two ruptured disks.
Fortunately for me another of the program staff walked into the room at that time, distracting Kendra long enough so I could grab her in a standing wrap-up and we attempted to remove her to a quiet room. As a child I had read the stories of Pecos Bill lassoing a tornado and riding it. It felt just like that. Along the way I was slammed against the hallway walls at least two more times. We placed Kendra in the time out room and held the door as now she wanted not only me, but also the other staff. Eventually she calmed down and we returned to the class room, and I wrote the incident report after the residents went home for the day. My adrenaline was pumping so hard, I felt no pain, until the next morning.
The next morning was another story altogether. Spasms down my back, intense pain at the level of my hips, pain shooting down both legs really freaked me out. What the heck had happened yesterday! I called into work and told them I was going to see a doctor to find out what was wrong. This only began the multiple doctor’s appointments for the next 31 years.
Next installment: the Doctors and Physical Therapists.
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