Broken Neck Part 1

This is part one of a long story. It happened in 1989 when I was 14 years old. We had just finished our last high school exam for the year. We had a week off before our final assembly. It was June and what a better way to celebrate the end of grade 9 by having a pool party. All day long I had been diving and swimming my heart out. There was this crazy tradition that still goes on today; push people into the pool. It was my turn. As I was standing at the edge of the pool, by best friend at the time, snuck up behind me and pushed me in.

That is when it happened. I instinctively dove in to the pool into the shallow end. I felt and heard the most horrific crunch that reverberated throughout my entire body. I jumped up and yelled “Please help me.” I walked out of the pool holding my shoulders as high as I could. I was holding my head so I wouldn’t move. I knew something was wrong but in my stubbornness, I asked to be taken home. I stayed in my wet trunks and t-shirt wrapped in a towel. I got into the front seat of a station wagon buckled up and got driven home. When I walked into the front door, my parents met me and said, “Something is wrong, we are going to the hospital right now.” I said that I was fine and wanted to go lay down. Again my stubborn streak was trying to deny what I already knew, I was in trouble.

My parents drove me straight to the emergency at the main children’s hospital in downtown Winnipeg. When we walked in and told the nurse what had happened, there were 2 nurses and one doctor attending to me within 30 seconds. They gave me the first of 4 neck braces that I would wear over the next 9 months.

The first night I was laying on a hard bed without a pillow. I had to pee in a jug and eat without moving my head. I stared at the ceiling and watched TV with my eyes down looking across my chest. I had x-rays every day and every bone specialist in Winnipeg came and saw me. It was 6 days of lying flat on my back while the doctors decided what to do with me.

I had caused such severe trauma to my neck that they did not know what to do. To give you a little perspective, I had broken, dislodged and compacted vertebrae C4. Three possible ways to have your spinal cord severed and I did not die. I was still walking around and I did not lose any feeling in my toes or fingers. The doctor simply stated that I should be dead and there was no way I should be walking.

If you are unaware of how a neck works, there are 7 vertebrae in your neck. I broke C4 which is the middle one. The one that you break and you are a quadriplegic for the rest of your life. Christopher Reeve broke C4 when he fell off his horse. He was in a wheel chair until he passed away. I had broken, dislodged and compacted only one bone in my neck.

Based on all the x-rays and consultations with doctor after doctor, the debate was what type of neck brace I would be wearing for the next year of my life. The one I did not want was the “halo.” The “halo” is a metal band that is screwed into your skull with four posts that extent down to a chest harness. It makes your neck completely immobile.

Amazingly, I got a hybrid of the “halo.” I had to wear a chest harness that had a chin brace and a brace that wrapped around the back of my head just above my ears. I had been saved from the “halo” and I was finally able to walk around. After 6 days of lying on my back it was like being able to fly. What I didn’t know was how much my life was about to change.

Hugs

I have been told that I give the best hugs ever. Some of the descriptions I have heard:

“Oh my, it’s like being hugged by a pillow.”
“Your hugs are like going for a massage.”
“When you hug me, I feel better about myself.”
“I feel safe.”
“WOW!”

I’m not sure when this started for me. I think it has to do with how I believe I should be. One of the challenges in my life is to try and make sure that everyone feels a little better about themselves after spending time with me. At the end, the hug is a natural way to say as much as you can through physical contact. When I hug you I am saying to you: “Thank you.” “I appreciate you.” “You are safe with me.” “Everything will be ok.” “You are loved.”

In recent years, I have begun to pay close attention to how people hug. Whether it is a firm hold with a full body press or a timid hug with an arch to keep the body away, everyone is different. Some wrap their arms around my neck, standing on their tip toes just to reach. Others wrap their arms around my girth and are fully engulfed in a strong embrace. One of my favourites is the angled one arm hug. It is the most uncomfortable hug to give. One arm can reach right around with ease and the other doesn’t quite make it; an awkward off-centre hug.

You can tell a lot about a person from their hugs. The eyes may be the window to the soul, but a hug shows you just how comfortable a person is with themselves. Some people gear up for a hug. They put everything down, take off their coat and stretch their arms out. They know what they want without any guilt or fear. For those hugs, I have to be ready to give my best because they know what they want so I’m going to give it.

Others are timid and reluctant to hug at all. This is more common than you might think. I believe it has to do with trust. Some people trust immediately and others a little longer. It is a wonderful thing to build trust with someone over time. You can feel the progression through their hug. It starts off timid with as much separation of the body as possible. In the end, some of the best hugs that I have participated in are from those who finally say back, “Thank you for being you.”

Friend?

One of my friends came over last night. He had flown in from Vancouver with a stop over in Winnipeg. He is in Ontario for a conference and he wanted to catch up and stay at my place for night. It was really nice to see him. I find him to be incredibly smart and kind. He stood up with me at my wedding. I have always admired him. He is without a doubt a good friend.

But it got me thinking. What is a friend? What changes a person in your life from a co-worker or an acquaintance to a friend? I think it comes down to how you introduce that person to other people. “Hi Jane, I’d like you to meet my friend Jon.” Or is it, “Hi Jane, I’d like you to meet Jon, we work together at…” Or even, “Hi Jane, this is Jon, an old acquaintance from…”

For some reason I am reminded of a quote by Dr. Seuss, “Those who matter don’t mind. Those who mind don’t matter.” Could this be the simplest way to define a friend? Is it someone in your life who is there and likes you just because you are you? Perhaps it is someone in your life who you don’t talk to for years and then when you finally meet, it’s like you never stopped.

You know, when I started writing this down, I thought I would come up with a great idea or definition of what a friend is. Now I realize I only have more questions. For instance, I was talking to my best friend about how to choose a Best Man or Bridesmaid for a wedding. How can you? How can you define who is your best friend? What criteria will you use? Does it simply become a catch-22?

I mean really. Who is your best friend and what criteria will you use to decide?

To lie or not to lie?

I sit at my computer wondering what to do next. What part of my life will I expose? In the beginning it is always difficult to decide. Do I hide the things that I don’t like about myself so people are drawn to me or simple say fuck it and tell the truth? I suppose it is easier when I have no idea who will read this.

I think the truth is important even though it is scary to me. I found comfort in lying, hiding behind a fake wall trying to keep safe. I can still remember when it all started, my first lie.

I was 6 years old. It was the winter of 1981. I was walking home from school down Henderson Hwy in Winnipeg MB. Now keep in mind that if you grow up in Winnipeg you will either love the cold and snow or you will hate it. I love it. Winter was my favourite time as a kid. Playing in the snow, building forts and the inevitable snow ball fight.

On this particular day the sun was shining, it was crisp and the snow piles were huge. The piles were 10 feet high. These were the ones that are at the end of parking lots and built by front end loaders. How could I resist the temptation to cross a 6 lane road just to climb this mountain of snow with my friends? I was six, so it had to be done. It was way too much fun.

Now we come to my first lie. When I got home, my Mom was really mad at me. I could just tell. Something was wrong and I knew I had been caught breaking a parental rule. I had crossed the street by myself when I was 6. The rules for walking home from school were simple. My home and school were both on Henderson Hwy and both were on the West side. I had a preplanned route that I was required to follow. The snow pile was on the East side of Henderson in a 7-11 parking lot 6 lanes across a forbidden road. I broke the biggest rule of all, I was NEVER allowed to cross Henderson Hwy unless I was with an adult.

I don’t know why I lied, I just did. The words came out of my mouth, “It wasn’t me Mom.” It went on for a while, my Mom was the interrogator and I was the suspect. In the end my lie had prevailed. I had discovered a new power. I just might be able to get away with anything.

Now 30 years later I still am still plagued by the same question. Should I hide myself behind lies or step out from behind my wall and face the consequences of my choice; lie or tell the truth?

It's all in a name...

So here it starts. I have begun an exercise in self discovery and opening my soul to strangers. If anyone does read this, welcome to my life. You are only limited only by what I am willing to share or talk about.

It all started with a name. What should I call my blog? I settled on Fat Man’s Hustle. It is just one of those things that has stuck with me for the last 10 years. There is a story behind the name and its significance in my life. To be perfectly blunt, I am a fat man. I have been over 300 lbs since 1993 and I have never been under since. I am fortunate that I am 6’2” and my current 320 lbs is evenly distributed from head to toe.

About 10 years ago, I was playing squash with my wife. During one of our games, I was running after the ball. As I was swinging my racket, my body kept moving, completely ignoring my attempts to slow down. After the wall abruptly stopped my momentum, we burst out laughing. In my wit and wisdom, I commented, “Hey, it’s the fat man hustle. Once I get it all going it’s hard to stop.”

What can I say, it’s all in a name.