What a Trip it’s Been

My Story, by Chris Morris

For most of you who will read this it will be the first time you’ve heard from me in just over two years. My brother Dee has kept you all updated on my progress but that is no longer necessary. Its time for me to get back in touch with all those who’ve kept me in their thoughts and prayers and let you know how I’m doing. 

The accident:    I was riding my motorcycle, without my helmet on, which was truly against my own rules, but I thought I was so close to home it would be okay.  Little did I know that lack of helmet would change my life and many other lives forever, especially my immediate family, my wife Kathy and my children Kalee and Cale.  I was going around a long curve in the road when I apparently drifted off the road and hit a bunch of landscaping rocks put in the ditch to stop erosion, each about the size of a basketball with sharp edges.

            I still can’t remember the accident, but I suppose that is good.  There was an eye witness to the whole horrific event.  He said when I hit the rocks I flipped over twice in the air and then landed on the sharp rocks on my back and head.  He said that he could tell it was a terrible accident right away.  He immediately called 911 from his cell phone and reported it.  That is where I broke my back in 3 places, and also had a terrible head injury that resulted in my entire left side and my legs being paralyzed.  I hate to use that word “paralyzed” because it sounds so definite.  I prefer to say that my legs temporarily don’t move.  That gives me some hope that they will come back and I will be able to walk again!  It was only minutes and a life-flight helicopter came to fly me to the hospital.  The EMT’s immediately intibated me, which means they shoved a tube down my throat so I could breathe easier. Then on to a backboard, and off to the hospital.  The nearest hospital was one in Colorado Springs named Penrose.  Apparently one of the EMT’s on board said they didn’t expect me to live. 

Kathy arrives: According to Kathy, when she and my son Cale arrived the helicopter had just departed but my motorcycle still lay in the ditch. I still shudder to think how hard that had to be on them to see that bike laying there crumbled and abandoned. The police offered to take them to the hospital but instead Kathy chose to drive. They all arrived shortly after the flight-for-life helicopter and thus began the ordeal of waiting and wondering if I would survive. My brother Jamie and his wife June arrived later that night and so, Kathy had a lot of support but that still didn’t make the waiting game any easier. Because they all work in the medical field my care-providers at Penrose were certainly well monitored. That fact would soon evolve in to a point of contention and result in my being moved to Swedish Hospital in Denver. 

Penrose and beyond:  Recently I was having a conversation with my Mom, and inevitably the talk soon centered around the day of my accident.  Mom was at home in Alabama when my accident occurred but as soon as my wife, Kathy called her with the news she made flight reservations to Colorado.   Apparently my condition was worse than I can remember, and I was near death while in the hospital.  Mom and Dee flew from Pensacola and arrived the next day but it was too late to visit me so they settled in at my home in Larkspur, with Kathy.  Two days after my accident my mom came to Penrose hospital to see me.  I was in a drug induced coma and the doctors told her not to expect too much from me.  Nonetheless, my mother wanted to see me so she took the doctor’s advice with her and proceeded to enter my room.  She saw her youngest son on a hospital gurney with numerous tubes protracting from his excessively bandaged body.  She approached me with all the loving a mother could muster.  With dry eyes she bent over my body and gently whispered in my ear, “Chris, its Mom and I love you”.  

            As she raised her head she saw my left eyebrow raise up, and took that as a sign that she had gotten through to me.  She smiled and kissed me on my forehead, and knew that somewhere deep inside I had heard her.  She proceeded to leave the room with a faint smile on her face as a nurse came in. 

            I’m not sure what happened next but I know Kathy had a great deal to do with it. She saw that I wasn’t moving right and asked the doctors for a CAT scan. As a physical therapist Kathy has worked in a hospital and is familiar with hospital procedures. When they gave her blank stares back and didn’t want to do the tests Kathy demanded I be moved to Swedish Hospital. With continued insisting and some phone calls the doctors acquiesced.  

            I was flown to Swedish Hospital in Denver and the doctors there, looking at the same x-rays developed and analyzed at Penrose, immediately determined that my spinal column suffered multiple fractures. Within 24 hours they had me in surgery for my broken back but it is my opinion that the failure of Penrose to recognize the fractures and provide immediate treatment resulted in many of the issues I am dealing with today.   Kathy was definitely the one to thank for working so hard to get me out of there.  I have to admit that it was Penrose that saved my life but would not recommend them to anyone based on what I know today. The surgery consisted of the doctors putting 2 metal rods in my back.  Along with the metal rods they put what was called a “g” tube into my stomach.  For over the next year, I would receive all my nourishment through this tube.  Absolutely nothing through the mouth. Because of my head injury, the left half of my body was paralyzed and this affected my throat tremendously.  I had to have a tracheotomy tube coming out of my throat so I could breathe.  This paralysis injury also made it so I couldn’t talk I had to write everything down on a small pad I carried.  This was certainly inconvenient when I had visitors, but they all seemed to understand. It was very frustrating for me though; another cause for my severe depression.  In addition to the tube in my stomach, the doctors put a tube in just below my waist into my bladder.  As my bladder filled with urine it would reach a high level point to where it would flow out of this tube and into a bag usually strapped to my leg.  This bladder tube still exists today.  After all these additions to my formerly strong body, I was then released to Craig rehab hospital where I was kept sedated to the point of comatose for at least a couple of weeks.  Although I was out of it, my wife Kathy was there beside my bed every day.  Pictures reveal that I was still a bloody mess at that point.  The left side of my face was one large scab courtesy of how I landed on the rocks.  

            Craig’s reputation of being the best in the world was certainly true!  They took wonderful care of my mangled body, and with the great care they soon had me doing various therapies for my recovery every day.  But as all good things do, this had to come to an end.  During a meeting with all of their staff and Kathy, my lawyer and my brother DeWitt, they told me I had plateaued for Craig’s services and I would have to leave.  I remember one heated discussion out in the hall between my brother DeWitt fighting for me and the staff muckity-muck arguing their point.  Dee fought hard which some of you know how he can, but to no avail.  I would have to leave.  

Bethany Nursing Home:            I was sent to a nursing home named Bethany Healthplex. Bethany is just a bad memory for me.  Kathy brought the kids up to see me often and those visits were probably all that kept me from losing hope or going nuts. I did have some good visits from Joe Broussard, Wayne Widynowski, Joe Cruise, Doug Ostby, my pal Randy Shannon and the priest from my church, Father Rick.  I also got a nice visit from Jim Folcik and some e-mails from Jim keeping me up on what was going on in the world of seismic.  Those visits and some e-mails were about it for the good times at Bethany.  The aides there were my biggest problem.  My body was still very sore and anytime they had to move me, they did it with a total disregard of how it felt to me.  Of course each time I vehemently complained and my complaints were best classified as tirades heavily laced with curse words but my complaints fell on deaf ears.  It hurt!  They just didn’t seem to care how I felt.  I was constantly dehydrated.  At Craig Hospital the nurses would give me a full syringe of water in my “g” tube to prevent me becoming dehydrated.  They never did this for me at Bethany.  As a result I stayed constantly dehydrated and thirsty.  The highlight of my week happened on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday when I went to throat therapy.  Part of the therapy was that I was given a spoonful of ice chips and then try various methods to talk.  But even this joy of ice ran out the day the therapist told me I would have a trach tube in my throat the rest of my life, and I would have to live in a home similar to Bethany also for the rest of my life.  I just couldn’t stand the thought of not being at home with my wife and to raise my children and watch them grow up and be an integral part of their lives.  That thought still haunts me today!  

It wasn’t long before I had to participate in a meeting with a team of lawyers.  Thankfully my brother Dee was there for me.  He added much needed support for what I was about to hear.  I was completely broke and all we could do was make arrangements for Kathy and the kids to hang on to the house.  I personally became completely dependant on Medicaid.  Besides a “special needs trust” I was allowed to possess no more than $2000.00 dollars in assets.  No car, no motorcycle, nothing!  So by virtue of these vents, all my stocks, my IRA and any savings I had were gone.  I was, and am, basically destitute!  The ‘special needs trust’ is used to pay for my attorneys fees, living expenses, case management services, physical and occupational therapy, psychologist fees, dental services, local transportation, cell phone, internet access, my XM radio for entertainment and personal care incidentals.  It’s all I have for as long as I am on Medicaid and I seem to go through it quickly.  What a horrible mistake I made on March 23, 2005.  

        This story gets better but to get it all out on the table, I’ve got to tell you all it gets worst first. The aides there never turned me at night. I was supposed to be turned every two hours. This lack of turning resulted in me developing a pressure sore; more commonly known as a bedsore. Mine was bad and I found out later that without proper medical attention to the sore, it could have spread into the bone and I could have died. I had three surgeries on the sore to clean out the infection. The sore was so bad it went all the way to the bone. It was on the back side of my right hip; so far back that I couldn’t see it. Well its two years later now as of March 23 rd and I’ve just returned from the hospital after my third surgery. This time the surgeons went down inside the wound and went to the bone. They cleaned the infection off the bone and then cleaned the rest of the wound very well and closed the top of the hole with a “flap”. The flap consisted of pulling skin that was loose from across my back and sewing it over the top of the hole. This was to seal the wound from anything entering the hole and causing more infection. The surgery was a complete success and I still have to be turned at night but it’s worth it to me to have that sore repaired. My recovery was the difficult part. I had to lie on my back in a hospital room for eight weeks. No sides, no stomach, just on my back the whole time. Not even as much as an apology from Bethany, so needless to say they won’t be on my Christmas list!           

            Back to me living at Bethany. I was so tired of being dehydrated and so thirsty all the time that one night I talked a new aide into bringing me a large cup of ice chips. It seemed innocent enough, and I really laid it on thick so the aide did it without asking anyone. Well like I said, being so thirsty I made short work of the ice and actually got another cup. Because of the way I was lying so flat in the bed and the voracious way I downed the ice and the poor condition of my throat quite a bit of the water entered my lungs and I developed pneumonia immediately. That was actually fine with me, because I would be leaving Bethany and rushed to the hospital. I spent Christmas of 2005 in Swedish hospital. On Christmas day Kathy brought the kids by with gifts for me and we had a Christmas celebration in the hospital.  That is one Christmas I will never forget. Those kids were just there for me even though it was my mistake that had caused them so much grief. Not having a Dad to tuck them in at night or attend their many sports events has been a horrible ordeal. They have been very strong through the whole process. I can only pray that I can get back to some normal life with them and be a family again soon. 

        After Christmas it was time for me to continue my sentence at Bethany. Back to the constant stench of colostomy bags and disinfectant. The aides still threw me around like a piece of meat, constant pain. Still thirsty all the time so I tried asking for ice again. My brother Dee still accuses me of doing this to get out of Bethany, but if I did it was sub conscious; I was just so thirsty. Well, it amazingly worked again. I downed as many glasses of ice as I could to quench my thirst. And naturally most of the liquid went into my lungs. So, you guessed it, another severe case of pneumonia! Off to a hospital again, and out of Bethany for good as it turned out. Dee and my Medicaid attorney Laura refused to allow me to be returned to Bethany. This created a dilemma as to what facility could take me and be qualified to attend to the tracheotomy tube. Amazingly, after a day or two there in ICU and no hospital or nursing home agreeing to take me, a doctor said he didn’t think I needed the trach tube any longer so with a snap of his fingers, he pulled it out. It would be touch and go whether I would be able to talk but with some “tricks” he did with my vocal cords my voice worked just fine and it still does today. Just hours later I was eating country fried steak and mashed potatoes.

My first meal in over a year and it was great! That therapist that said I would have that trach tube for the rest of my life was certainly wrong. And being able to talk was awesome too. Just a couple of small victories for the Chris Morris side again. 

Uptown Nursing Home. I was beating the odds all over the place! But I have a long way to go. I was released to Triumph rehab, a part of the hospital and my stay there was nice but again it was too short. From there I was released to a “rehab” facility called Uptown.  Mostly elderly people and many of them have no touch with reality. Don’t be fooled by the name. It was better than Bethany but all these places just seem to hire who ever will take the job for the pay offered. There’s no therapy here other than what I provide for myself. This is where I currently reside with hopes of moving to a place with a younger population and some therapy. I’d really like to start some work on trying to walk. The remainder of my life without walking is not a good outlook for me. I want to play with my children, and I want to get back into the workforce in some worthwhile capacity. Hopefully, someone will be able to use my years of field and managerial experience. My purpose in life is not altogether clear just yet but I pray that as each day passes, I will continue this recovery. I keep working hard at my exercises and for now, at least, that is my way of saying “Thanks” to all of you who have kept me in your thoughts and especially your prayers. 

Uptown is on 18^th and Clarkson, just 10 minutes from downtown Denver. I always welcome visitors or contact by email, clmorris@greenriverenergy.com or cmlarkspur@aol.com. Thanks again and God bless you all. 

Chris Morris