The Ft. Worth City Council, Michael Chiklis and Montreal Expos Help Me Recover from a Car Crash
You’ve probably heard by now (first, because of the amount of news it made and second, because it happened four months ago), but I was in a bit of a fender bender back in December.
You all probably found out I was in a car crash before I did. I say that because one of my first memories at the Baylor Institute for Rehabilitation is asking a nurse why I was there and her telling me that I’d been in a car crash. That was in February. I feel bad, now, because I suspect I asked the same question just about every day up to that point. Also, I’m a journalist, so I feel like I should have heard about this crash first.
I started at JPS in Ft. Worth. I can’t remember a thing about it, but I’m pretty sure when I was conscious, I was also crazy.
Baylor, meanwhile, kept a binder in my room with regular reports on my condition. Once my memory started working again, I took a look at what they’d been saying. I learned, initially, I wasn’t necessarily expected to survive the crash. Then, I was expected to survive, but I might not be mentally capable of a whole lot. That was tough to see.
But in some of the more recent reports, the doctors at Baylor expressed surprise at how well I was recovering and they started talking about getting me back to home and work.
I know it’s only April, but thanks to JPS and Baylor, I think we have the comeback story of the year!
On the topic of me being “mentally capable,” I’m told I went through a period during the past three months where I couldn’t figure out what year it was. The closest I ever got was 2012 (the farthest I ever got, I’m told, was that I thought I was still in high school back in the late 90s). I mentioned that to my friend, Reid, and he, without any medical training, made the most astute diagnosis I’d heard since the crash: this was all a Mayan conspiracy to get a member of the media to think the year was still 2012. That way, they could fulfill their prophecy. Finally, someone had the guts to say it!
Toward the end of my stay at Baylor Rehab, my memory had come back enough that I was able to start doing some work on my laptop. In addition to the cards I’d been getting in the mail, I saw on Facebook and Twitter how many people were wishing me well, so I told the doctor that I was beloved by many. It was around this time, coincidentally, that the medical staff decided to stop the anti-depressant they give car crash victims with a traumatic brain injury, so thanks, everyone! Your support gave me one fewer pill to swallow! Now, if your support could also turn into an antibiotic that can allow my hip to heal properly, that’d be great. Thanks.
Even once I got the year right, I was confused that people were telling me it was March, but it was snowing outside. Twice it snowed! I’d like to point out that the same week I got out of the hospital was the week it started being 75 degrees. Even Mother Nature spent the winter mourning my condition and then celebrated when I was released! You’re welcome, North Texas, for this change in the weather.
Once I got out of the hospital, I needed to go to physical and memory therapy every day. More substantially, I needed to renew my fantasy baseball league and catch up on my DVR. All of that before I went back to work.
On my DVR, I was glad to see Michael Chiklis had joined the cast of American Horror Story. I could remember starting that season of the show before the crash and just about anything I could remember from 2014 felt great. And then, even with my memory still on the mend, I remembered Chiklis being in a horrible show a couple years earlier about Las Vegas. Apparently, Michael Chiklis is incredibly important to cognition. Attention school districts: showing reruns of The Commish in kindergarten classes will help students’ minds develop!
I also saw a commercial for Pie Five. I said to myself, “You might still be crazy, but I’m pretty sure you remember Derek Holland doing a Harry Carey impression on a Pie Five commercial last year.”
So I looked it up. Guess what?!
I immediately became furious with my brain.
“Seriously!? That’s what you’re going to remember about 2014?!” I chided my brain while using, ironically, my own brain.
Once I started physical therapy and was getting out more, my memory started coming back a lot quicker, but I was still making progress. One day, I was taken to Klyde Warren Park in Dallas to participate in a scavenger hunt. One of the tougher clues instructed us to find a picture of Mamie Eisenhower. That was one of the last items my team found.
As a result, I now have a largely negative opinion of the Eisenhower Administration. I’m sure that’s a perfectly reasonable way to feel about history.
The rehab place, Pate Rehabilitation, also had me name the Ft. Worth city council one day. With just a few hints, I was able to get everybody. I couldn’t believe it! I don’t think I could have done that before the crash!
Around the same time, spring training was wrapping up for Major League Baseball. I flipped on the TV the other night and the Reds were playing an exhibition game in Montreal. I immediately became terrified that I had forgotten the year again.
“Wait a minute. The Cincinnati Reds are playing in Montreal this weekend, and you’re trying to tell me it’s not 1996?!” I shouted at the television. “You can understand why I find that a little hard to believe. I wouldn’t be surprised to see them start Chris Sabo at third base!”
Around this time, I was able to vividly remember doing a story last summer on a group of Expos fans at a Rangers’ game who were going to every Major League ballpark to drum up support for a new team. They gave me an Expos t-shirt. I got it out and wore it to therapy the next day. You know, as a celebration. This time, it was the Montreal Expos showing my doctors that I didn’t need an anti-depressant.
I can’t say enough to my family, friends and co-workers for the support they showed during this little hiccup of mine. Also, I’m incredibly grateful to the doctors and nurses at JPS for, you know, saving my life. The doctors, nurses and therapists at Baylor Rehab seemed genuinely happy when I’d make progress even though I suspect I was, let’s say, a borderline handful as a patient early on.
Just before I was discharged from Baylor, I had gone a long time without shaving, so I couldn’t use my electric razor. A couple of the nurses came back to my room with disposable razors and shaving cream. I feel like drumming up shaving equipment wasn’t one of their regular duties.
At Pate Rehabilitation, I was able to start walking with a cane. Given that there were several stores nearby where I could have bought a cane, the natural thing to do was go online and buy a version of the cane from the TV show, House. That seemed like the only reasonable decision to make. It was about an inch too high, so a couple of the therapists at Pate sat down and sawed some off the bottom of it. I’m very thankful for that because I can’t help but think that wasn’t in the job description when they decided to go into the medical field.
I also should relate an amusing anecdote about JPS, but I can’t remember a single thing about it, so all I can say is thank you.
I’ll still need another surgery on my hip. The doctors need to shave off part of it because I grew too much bone back after the crash. “Growing bones” can now go on my resume under “special skills.”
That surgery will probably add to an already long list of people who’ve played a role in my recovery. I don’t remember a lot of this recovery, but I’m very thankful that so many people were willing to play a role. That, I think, puts a lot of pressure on me to be a productive member of society.