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| After the orthopaedic surgery at Cardinal Santos Medical Center |
I am lucky to be alive. I am doubly fortunate with the prospect of being able to regain most all of my motor skills, including walking, a couple of months from now. The Good Lord has given me a second chance in life. No doubt, Mom, Lola Ego and the Holy Face of Manoppello in Nampicuan were responsible for this miraculous event.
On
the morning of February 9, 2015 at the Rancho Caridad airstrip, I crashed my
ultralight shortly after take-off. It was a classic "pilot error" and
entirely my fault, which could have been avoided if I had just followed my
usual pre-flight procedure. But that's water under the bridge.
I
distinctly remember being conscious throughout the entire incident. I was numb
all over and short of breath from the trauma of the crash. I could not move and
the pain crept-up slowly but surely. It was excruciating. The first ambulance
trip from Rancho Caridad, Nampicuan to Rayos Valentin Hospital, Paniqui, where
I underwent first-aid, and the next ambulance trip from Paniqui to Cardinal
Santos Medical Center were just the beginnings of what seemed like a never-ending
series of torture, only to be relieved by the general anaesthesia of surgery. Being
totally averse to physical pain (I am terrified of injections), I was in
despair during most of my stay at the hospital.
I
latched onto every positive update of my physicians and prayed desperately that
no complications would arise. I drew strength from the care and support of my
sisters and my father. I took comfort from the messages and visits of relatives
and friends. Most of all, I leaned on my wife, Selina, whose constancy and
personal loving care (that borders on the realm of the superhuman) have and
continue to guide me through this time of my greatest need.
It's
about seven (7) weeks since the accident. The first five (5) weeks were spent at
the Cardinal Santos Medical Center, where I was subjected to a couple of phases
of surgery--the first being an orthopaedic surgery for my broken and misaligned
pelvis and a couple of bone fractures (left wrist and a nasty open fracture of
the left ankle) and the second being skin graft surgery for the open fracture
of the left ankle and some lacerations at the calf of my right leg.
My
sisters, Selina and I agreed that it would be best for me to recover at our
home in Jacaranda, for practical and infinitely valuable intangible
considerations. Although I was still virtually immobile when I was discharged
from the hospital, I immediately sensed I was at the right place when I was
settled in bed at the ground floor guest room of the house I grew-up in. Mom had passed-away nearly five years ago, yet I knew she would watch over me as I recovered my strength and mobility in her home.
It’s
been just over two (2) weeks since then and with the help of daily physical
therapy sessions, I was able to lift my knees (one at a time) while lying in
bed (after the first week) and sit upright on the side of my bed from a lying
position (after the second week). A
couple of days later (today is March 31, 2015), nine (9) days short of the
second month anniversary of my accident or eleven (11) days short of the second
month anniversary of my first set of surgery (orthopaedic), I stood ever so
slowly with the assistance of a walker. Nothing to brag about, I'm sure, but decent progress (I think) considering the subsequent skin grafts on top of the orthopaedic surgery. More than ever, I must stay the course and disallow myself to be demoralized by what often seems like the painstakingly slow progress of healing.
