When the surf warning says Dangerous Shorebreak, it’s not a joke.

I consider myself a strong swimmer and someone who doesn’t take unnecessary risks, so when the I heard the PSA on the radio about dangerous swells, I didn’t ignore it… Well not totally.

With my dear friend visiting from out of town and our swim with the manta rays cancelled due to poor visability, we changed plans last minute to check out our favorite beach. When we got there the skies were clearing and the waves, although choppy, were relatively small.

Since we left all the toys at home (body boards, surf boards, etc), we jumped in to play in the waves. Every once in a while a wave formed that was almost big enough to body surf. A big beauty started to form and my daughter and I swam hard to catch it; she didn’t but I did, and it was powerful enough to carry my body as if it were afloat a board. It was a great ride until it drove me head first into the beach, that terrific current jerking my body backwards over my head. I heard the pop of my bone breaking. 

I crawled forward calling for my daughter to pull me out. As another wave knocked us forward, she tugged on my arm as I slowly rose to standing. My friend rushed over and they both supported me up the beach away from the waves. I should not be walking was my first though, my second thought, this one I voiced, was that there was an angel on my shoulder.

Instincts must of kicked in because I knew not to move my neck. A slight tremor took hold of my body as the shock of what had just happened struck me like lightening and tears filled my eyes. God has a plans for me still, and I should not be walking were running on a loop in my mind.  The intense pain was delayed a few moments as if to allow the full gravity of the blessing I had just had placed upon me, to really sink in. ‘How do you feel? Are you OK?’ my friend and daughter asked. To which I replied that I had never felt better. I was alive! So when my daughter asked if she could go into the water again, I glanced down at a nice spot on the sand that looked perfect for me to relax on and replied, ‘sure!’ At this point we began seeing the signs of my concussion.

The pressure immediately began to build in my neck and at the base of my skull. I was also having difficulty swallowing and speaking, feeling constriction in my throat and pain to my trachea. The initial jolt of searing pain that shot down my spine in the water was now resolving into a radiating burn. We slowly and very cautiously ambled to the parking lot after my friend convinced me that I was in no shape to drive, and she took me to the nearest emergency room. With advise from my wonderful husband who had received training in emergency field medicine in the Marines, we placed a tennis shoe on either side of my neck with the opening facing forward and wrapped my head with a towel, thereby securing my head and neck for the ride, but also bringing some comfort with the slight pressure. The pain was increasing.

The concussion became more apparent on the drive to the ER. I noticed subtle vision changes, such as a slight narrowing of my range of vision as well as a cloudiness. I also began having trouble coming up with words as if I had had a stroke. The words purse, phone, and wallet completely alluded me as I attempted to ask my daughter to collect what I needed from the car. I was reduced to pantomiming for phone and requesting ‘the thing that all the things go into’. While in the ER, I seemed to loose all concept of time (conveniently) – the 4 1/2 hours we spent in there seemed to fly by.

After fentanyl for the pain, a head CT, a CT angiogram to check the integrity of my carotid arteries and tons of blood work, the doctor came back to deliver the verdict in a solemn voice; there was no evidence of spinal cord damage or brain swelling but I had fractured the C1 vertabrae. As he was speaking, a smile began creeping onto my face. I then asked him, ‘are you saying I broke my neck?’ In a calm serious voice he responded, yes. To which I burst out into hysterical laughter! Of course I did! Leave it to me, it’s always got to be something – this time I stepped it up a notch! The doctor stared at me a moment, glanced at my husband, then responded, ‘I’ve never gotten that reaction before.’ A phone consult with the neurosurgeon in Oahu resulted in a discharge. By the grace of God I did not yet need surgery. I would need to wear a super spiffy neck brace for 5 weeks and return for a repeat CT. The craziest part of all? I would only need to take a week off of work! I had already taken a week vacation for my friend’s visit so I would only need to use a couple sick days, thereby leaving my sick leave stash barely touched for my pancreas transplant! (More on that another time.) 

Three nights later I had crashed on the couch – the only way I could sleep was sitting straight up so the couch was most comfortable despite waking up every couple hours from the pain – when I woke up to the most intense nausea. I stumbled to the bathroom where I writhed on the floor drenched in sweat, hoping to expel whatever poison was wreaking havoc on my system. The discharge instructions I received from the ER explicitly said I should return if I experienced any nausea and vomiting so my husband took me back. More blood tests, IV fluids and some Zofran later I was feeling better – other than the omnipresent neck and back pain and headache. This was aftereffects of the concussion, thank goodness. So we would not need to panic if it happened again.

Day four (today) I woke up after my pain medication would have already worn off, NOT feeling the need to rush to the medicine cabinet. Today is the day my pain is improving. Sweet.

I am one lucky momma, in so many ways. The outpouring of love and support has been overwhelming. Now I need to do my part and RE-LAX so I can heal. That has been the most challenging part; being still. No exercising, no cleaning, cooking, playing with my kids, even cuddling is a challenge! But after all everyone has done for me, the least I can do, is the most I can do.