Don't aspire to aspiration

I can't believe I am actually posting this close up picture. Just thought you'd like to see my battle wounds. The scar on my eye isn't nearly as bad as it was. Luckily, I had a great plastic surgeon, who noticed the scar as he was working on my trach hole (yuck, i know) and asked me if I'd like anything done with it. I politely said "no thanks", but he proceeded to tell me that he could almost make it dissappear and it wouldn't cost me a dime. In that case, work your wonders. Though, whenever I smile, it looks like I have extra wrinkles in that eye.


Car Accident Part II

I was brought to the Tri-cities hospital (not sure of the name) in Washington. My spleen had ruptured and it was the first injury that needed immediate attention, so I went to surgery to have my spleen removed. During surgery, my parents and were called in and they traveled the hour and a half to the hospital. All that they knew was that I was hurt worse than Matt. I can't imagine what they were going through at that moment.


Though we've all read through my medical charts, we are still unsure as to whether I aspirated on the operating table, or immediately afterwards. I guess anesthesia makes me nauseous and I couln't hold down that Taco Bell we'd just ate. I vomitted and inhaled it into my lungs.


Other injuries included 5 broken ribs, punctured and collapsed lungs and all 7 broken vertebra in my c-spine (neck). They had bandaged me all up, hooked me up to traction (a weird weight device that held my head/neck still) and sent my parents in to see me. I think they were slightly unprepared to see me in that condition. They later told me that my neck had swollen so much that it was thicker than my head, if that makes any sense at all. I don't remember seeing my family, but they said that I was awake and alert. I had a tube down my throat, so I couldn't speak, but I wrote my family notes on a piece of paper. I wrote "Is Chris okay?" "I love you guys" and "I'm sorry."


After a day or so at the hospital, I got worse. Almost to the point of death (that came later). My mom took charge and basically told them that they needed to life flight me to a bigger and better hospital. I was at that hospital for 5 days total. Finally, they life flighted me to OHSU in Portland, Oregon. My mom was with me the whole time, while my Dad and sister drove the 5 hours by themselves. My mom said during the life flight they were suctioning my lungs out and were getting bloody chunks of lung. Sorry to all of you with a weak stomach! Toward the end of the flight, I start to remember things. I am not sure if they ran out of drugs, or if I was so close to death that they didn't want to give me more. I remember being wheeled out of the helicopter, fast. People around me were yelling (not sure what). Then, a doctor, stabbed me in the neck and I felt blood everywhere. Then I was out again. At the time I didn't really know what was happening to me, for some weird reason I thought that I'd been shot.


I was giving an emergency tracheotomy and hooked up to a ventilator. For the next month, I was medically put into a coma. My family temperarily re-located in a travel trailer. My brother was serving his mission in Paraguay at the time and was given permission to go home to "say good-bye". He opted not to go home because he felt he would add extra blessing to us if he stayed. And, just a tiny side note...this was a difficult decision for my brother. He'd battled with this decision for a few days when his mission had a conference that Jeffrey R. Holland would be speaking at. He attended and afterwards, Elder Holland shook every missionaries hand. When he got to my brother he shook his hand, but the Elder who was next in line got anxious and started to speak to Elder Holland. While they were talking, he held my brothers hand. Finally, when they were done speaking, he looked at my brother and said "don't worry, your sister will be fine."