Thoughts and Truth from the Impossible Life

Personal Entry about medical care aversion

This is actually 99% a letter I sent to a friend who wisely counseled me to seek medical attention after I not only broke my big toe on my right foot, but when I broke it, I also half ripped the nail off so I was squirting blood at the same time.  (No, I didn’t actually seek medical attention and you’ll see this is not an unusual act below.)

Ok, I’m sure, now my readers want to know how I broke my toe.   It was really warm about 4am and I’d already closed the house up for the winter.  All the storm windows were down.  I opened the window, then the storm window.  In my delirium from not having yet been asleep (nod to Facebook for keeping me up during a work night to 4am), I forgot to put down the screen.  Moments later, my cat jumped into the window and nearly fell out.  It is a 9 foot drop!  I was so worried about my cat, I went flying off my bed to get to the window to save my cat.  My right foot got caught in the sheet and I tripped.  My toe came smashing facing straight down with 200+ pounds.  Broken toe and ripped up nail.  (PS.  The pain was terrible!  Easily the 4th worse pain I’ve EVER felt and that is a big statement when you read below.)

The letter below:

I think it is almost something hardwired into men about needing assistance, including medical.

This is minor compared to some injuries I’ve avoided medical attention. In 1999 I made an extremely poor mistake, forgetting I am NOT superman, tried to move a 3000 pound fully loaded 20 oz soda cooler with a hand dolly (alone) and dropped it on my right leg. All 3000 pounds landed handle first directly on the inside of my leg immediately above the knee. And pinned myself under it when it fell. I ruined the muscles, the internal bleeding was so bad that my whole leg turned black, and when my mom nagged me enough to go to the hospital 2 DAYS later, the bleeding was so bad that they could not operate to fix anything because I would have bled to death. All we could so is wait to see if I died or not. AND, through pain most people can only imagine, I had to continue to run my restaurant. I admit to spending a lot of time crying in anguish from the pain. I could take nothing for the pain which would thin my blood and increase the chances of death. (Aspirin is a good blood thinner which is why people take low doses to help prevent heart attacks.)

Once I lived, only by the graces of God, the doctors told me I would never walk again. I refused to accept that, just like I refused to accept I would lose the ability to properly use my right index finger after I chopped it almost complete off with a meat slicer in 1989 (but that is another story since I did DRIVE to the emergency room after I drove home 30 miles away and picked up my wife first). The muscles are still dead, crushed, but I did a lot of WORK to develop the undamaged muscles surrounding the ruined area. I’ve regained 90% for use and no one can tell at all about the injury unless I try to over do it to much. (This when I started gaining weight, from being unable to maintain the levels of activity I have always had. Though, my voracious appetite for everything, including food has never decreased to much my decreased ability to maintain my previous physical activity levels.)

Ok, that is probably more than you’d expect of the history of Paul. LOL. I talk the same; it CONSTANT streams of consciousness.


October 28, 2012 Posted by | Family, Societal / Cultural Issues | , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment


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