The Facts of Life

Fact: Mark was lucky. He was not wearing a helmet, was crushed by a massive machine on steep, rocky terrain and miraculously did not hit his head. No concussion. Not even a headache. He does have road rash, cuts, bruises and gashes, but no internal injuries they've found as of this point. His leg took the entire brunt of the impact each time the 4-wheeler rolled. He broke both sides of the the tibia and both sides of the fibula in multiple places. He shattered the end of the tibia into tons of pieces that are currently floating in his leg. He will eventually have a bone graft to replace that portion of bone.

Fact: Mark was hunting deep in the back country when the accident occurred. Because of that, there was an almost 5 hour delay from the time he was injured, to the time he entered the ER. Possibly because of this delay, he was diagnosed with Compartment Syndrome & whisked away to surgery. Compartment Syndrome is a life/limb threatening condition, defined as the compression of nerves, blood vessels, and muscle inside a compartment (the leg in his case). This leads to tissue death from lack of oxygenation due to the blood vessels being compressed by the raised pressure within the leg. In layman's terms: the swelling was acting as a tourniquet and rapidly killing his foot and leg. It may take months before they know the extent of the damage the Compartment Syndrome caused.

Fact: They performed an emergency Fasciotomy where they essentially sliced open both sides of his leg and allowed the muscles to swell out the sides. His leg remains open like that right now. During this surgery they also attached an External Fixator to his leg. They drilled screws in above the knee and above the ankle and then attached carbon fiber rods to each end. That contraption just serves to keep the break from shifting further but is not in place to heal the break. They have not yet attempted to reset his bones.

Fact: Cora walked in to see Mark for the 1st time, glanced at him and proclaimed, "Hmmm. Daddy has a box leg now."

Fact: He has 2 surgeries scheduled so far this week. On Tuesday they will attempt to stretch his skin back over the muscle & close his leg up. The doctors have warned us the swelling was so severe, they will most likely have to do a skin graft to close the wound. It is our hope that his swelling will have died down to the point where a graft is not necessary. On Wednesday they will finally begin to tackle his break. During this surgery they will check for ligament damage and assess the soft tissue. If the soft tissue is healed enough, they will insert plates, rods and screws and do a bone graft. Both of those surgeries are contingent on how much his swelling goes down today.

Fact: This picture is gross.

Fact: Yesterday morning Mark stopped breathing. His fever spiked. His blood pressure dropped. I saw fear in the nurses/doctors' eyes and so I began to panic. After the longest half hour of my life, they were able to stabilize him and return his vitals to normal. They still do not know what caused it.

Fact: Yesterday started out rocky, really rocky, but turned out to be a fantastic day. Mark was awake, alert and very coherent (well, as coherent as a heavily medicated patient can be). He took visitors on and off throughout the day and is sleeping like a baby as I type this. There was some new numbness in the foot below the break that has his team of doctors concerned, but they are monitoring it and will alter his care plan if necessary.

Fact: After my mother's suggestion, Mark would like me to ask the nurses if they can put Diet Mt. Dew in his IV line.

Fact: I sat down to type all about the negative aspects of hospital living (the fact that I'm awake at 3am might attest to the comfort level of the "guest bed"), but I can't even bring myself to complain about the rubbery chicken & chalk-like mashed potatoes. Because of your thoughts, your kindness, your prayers and your generosity, our hearts/this room/our lives are so full. I get choked up just thinking about the outpouring of love and support. At one point yesterday, I held a phone in each hand and had a laptop in front of me, attempting to coordinate 5 different meal offers just for last night's dinner. To say we are being well taken care of would be the understatement of the century. I'm not sure how to adequately express our gratitude. We feel so loved. So very very loved. A million thank yous to each of you.