Actually, 4 wheelers, trucks, ambulances & helicopters
“I fell” Those two words were all I texted my friend. It was all I could manage shaking as bad as I was shaking.
I spent a few minutes trying to gather myself up. My thoughts were a mosaic of shattered glass. “How am I getting back up?” “Is my bow ok?” “What did I break?” “Am I bleeding?” “I messed up Tom’s morning.” “It’s too early to call anyone.” “Oh shit, oh shit what have I done?” Oh Shit, I’m one of those guys… guys who fell.
At this point there wasn’t much pain other than the soreness of a jarring impact. Nothing felt broken. I could move everything. In fact I rolled to my side to clear small sticks for comfort as I lay there. So I tried to get up. The instant i pulled my knee to the side and bent it the air left me. The pain was indescribable. I was going nowhere… at least not under my own efforts. I caught my breath and found I was shaking again… or maybe still. I managed to call Tom. “You better get over here and call someone to help get me out.” I wasn’t aware Tom had already called J.B., another friend, and the ambulance. He dismissed my text telling him to keep hunting, that I could wait. Dammit, it was the one time I was happy he ignored me. I’ve harassed Tom a lot over the years, but when then chips are down and you need someone you can rely on, he’s your guy. Between him and J.B I’m a lucky man to have friends like them. They were calm and did the right thing. I wasn’t in my right mind. They would tell you I seldom am.
I’ve read and posted a number of stories of hunters, men mostly, who fell. A common theme in each stories was how remote and difficult it was for responders to get to the fall victim. In my case, it wasn’t difficult to get me out but we did use various methods before it was all said and done. The ambulance arrived and the crew was lead down to where I waited… not like I had any choice. The activity was actually captured on my trail camera. By now I was feeling not quite my best. The initial shock worn off, pain made its presence known. The first responders, Tom & JB placed me on a board and lifted me to the back of my 4-wheeler. That was the first time I screamed. And I boy let it go. Just as we were about to ride up the hill another first responder arrived and drove right down the trail to me and the guys. His Toyota truck has served this duty a number of other times. He knew what to do. I was transferred to the back of his truck because it was more stable than a 4 wheeler and we went up the trail where the ambulance sat in the open field at the gate.
This is wear things get fuzzy. I remember Michael, the EMT, he and I had a conversation about the meds he was administering and about finding veins but I don’t recall the actual ride to the emergency entrance of the hospital.
Most of the time spent in the ER is a blur as well. A roller coaster ride of pain from the impact and delirium brought on by pharmaceuticals. The pain came, they gave me something. The pain went, along with logical thought. I was scanned and returned to the white and blue rooms with a curtained door and the myriad of mechanical medical devices you find in the hospital. Then the news. “What you have, Tim, is a ‘burst fracture of your L3 vertebrae. You’re going to need surgery.” Again, SHIT!
From there they took me to x-ray. This would be the first time I ever truly learned what pain can be. I thought I had hurt in the past; stitches, broken arm, even appendix removal, but I was wrong. As they tried to roll me to one side for transfer to the table a wave of unimaginable electricity shot through my entire body radiating from my back…PAIN! PURE PAIN! I screamed, I convulsed, and I nearly passed out. They ceased the attempt. Thank God. Tears. Fear. For the first time I was truly afraid of what I had done.
Back to the white and blue room with a curtain door and meds (fentanyl). Thank God for the Fentanyl.
Next thing I knew I was being wheeled on a gurney outside. There I was introduced to the crew of the helicopter, and my flight nurses. By this time I had been stabilized and the pain again deadened along with brain activity. I was ok, for now.
The ride was actually an experience I enjoyed, yes, enjoyed. Remember the meds were strong. I wouldn’t suggest taking your first helicopter ride in this manner though. I was alert and comfortable enough that I even took some pictures and video of the entire flight to University Hospital… Mizzoo. University Hospital, Columbia Mo would be my home for the next couple weeks. Seventh floor, neurology. I didn’t know that yet. All indications were that I’d have surgery, my back screwed together and I’d be home by weeks end. But what they didn’t know is when I screw something up I go all in and this was no exception.
So it was not actually Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, it was 4 wheelers, trucks, ambulances and helicopters. What a ride. I don’t mean to make light of what happened. I’m writing what I thought and went through. In the beginning I wasn’t aware of the gravity (pun intended) of the situation. I was certain I’d be fine after a short time. I even told my friends our “Barn Party” was still on in the coming weeks. I really, or no one really, had any idea how badly I was hurt.
