My husband had a wreck on his motorcycle, July 9, 2004. He was hit by a car and flew at least 30 feet, breaking the ball off his femur, crushing his tibia and fibula, crushing his heal on the other leg, fracturing multiple bones in his hand, lacerating his liver, breaking ribs, vertebrae and puncturing his lung.
He had 13 surgeries over 2 weeks. He was not able to put weight on either leg, and his hand leg had pins running thru it. He wore a teenage mutant ninja turtle back brace. He had an external fixator on one leg, and multiple incisions and surgeries on the other. He was sent to rehab for 3 days, where he learned to move from bed to wheelchair, and then wheelchair to shower chair. At which point, they said, “Take him home.”
I did take him home, and thanks to friends, they built ramps so I could get him and his wheelchair into and out of our vehicle. They made a ramp for the back door of our home. He still had multiple incisions and required dressing changes. Did I mention we had 4 children ranging in age from 4 to 13?
After a couple of weeks, I took him to his primary care doctor, who actually asked me, “What am I supposed to do with him?” I asked for prescription for physical therapy. (None of his orthopedic surgeons ordered any physical therapy, except for his hand surgeon who ordered occupational therapy.)