This was a glorious trip. The pictures will give you a taste of how lovely.. But I'm not going to talk about that. I'm going to talk about an incident that happened.
Chick-on and I took off early, so he could show me bits of the river canyon that I didn't get to see on a previous trip. Basilbop couldn't leave early enough to join, but had been with Chick-on to see the canyon. He planned on coming in later and bombing directly to an agreed-upon campsite location.
When Chick-on and I took off from the trailhead, it was raining. We got rained on most of the way. Sometimes, it would lighten up, dry up. But the rock was almost always damp, if not wet. Slipping was happening, and I was trying to be careful.
But, close to the campsite, I took a bad step down onto a slanted slab of rock and fell forward. My hands caught me in a plank-like pose, but my backpack slid up off my hips and over to the side and caught my right upper arm and pushed it out of its socket. I screamed as I felt my arm dislocating. And I fell flat on my belly. First thought was that I'd probably dislocated my arm and that might mean the end of the trip, probably subsequent trips as well. Chick-on called down and asked if I was okay and I said I thought I dislocated my shoulder. He said it probably wasn't that bad, something like that. He didn't believe it. (He told me this afterwards.) I felt with my left hand and could feel the head of my humerus below my clavicle. Sticking out. I could feel the gap where it should have been in the "socket". I had gone clinical and was intrigued with how it felt. But I was also quickly assessing the situation and remembered I had limited time to reduce it easily, if it could be done easily.
So, with Chick-on's help, we got my backpack off, but I dropped one of my hiking poles into a crack during that process. After getting help backing down the rock and sitting up on the edge of the little gully, Chick-on retrieved my errant pole; luckily it had gotten stuck within reach, otherwise it would have been lost deep in the crack. Just the motion to do all that made me realize that without reducing the dislocation, I would be unable to hike the direct 4 miles back to the trailhead to be driven to the hospital. The pain was amazing. No way would I manage wearing a pack. I didn't want to have to call for an extraction. I knew we had to reduce, and quickly.
I was desperately trying to remember how to reduce, was almost getting worried about not remembering and it then it came to me, but I wanted to double check. But I'd been having trouble with my iPhone and I had not reinstalled all my Kindle books after my last rebuild. So my Wilderness First Responder bible wasn't available! Ugh. So I went with what I remembered and told Chick-on what to do. He had to slowly move my arm into the position that looks like a STOP arm signal if riding a bike. Which he did without questioning me. Slow and steady. He told me later he didn't like how my arm felt like a limp noodle. I had to hold my mouth shut with my working hand, and we heard and felt one small pop as the motion started reducing the dislocation. But though it felt a tad better, it wasn't enough, and I told him to keep going. And I REALLY had to hold my mouth and nose shut, and I probably squeaked some, but he did as I needed, and with a bigger popping sound, all of a sudden the pain disappeared. The insane pain was gone. I checked my circulation, sensation and motion (CSMs) in my fingers and arm, and pressed around my shoulder to see if anything was super tender - tears/breaks. Nothing. A pinched nerve was my biggest fear at that stage, and I was relieved I did not feel any nerve issues.
I tried testing my range of motion, and quickly found that certain motions felt like it would dislocate my shoulder again, so I stayed away from those moves. I was surprised with how many positions I could get into with no pain. I was more functional than I'd hoped. I knew then, at worst, I could self-evacuate. But I really didn't want to go home on Friday night of Memorial Day weekend. I knew there was little anyone other than a PT could do for me, and that would take time to set up after returning to the front country, anyway.
I was sore, yes, but nothing like what I'd been going through. Okay. Whew. I tried to remember and was pretty sure immobilizing the arm with sling and swathe was a normal thing to do, but I had to get off the little dome we were climbing over. And I'd need my poles and stability to do so. So, after getting back on my feet, lowering myself more carefully onto the slanty rock and climbing up, I put on my backpack with Chick-on's help, tested my arm, and off we went down the other side. It was tricky in places, but it really wasn't bad, and I thought that very likely, if I could keep the pain from getting much worse, I'd be able to finish the trip. I decided to make the final decision the next day. First order of business was finding a campsite and get out of the rain. But I took Extra-Strength Tylenol as soon as I could, hoping it would be good enough. It's all I can take, so it would have to do.
Oddly, I was euphoric about the fact that we'd reduced my dislocation in the field. It was worth all the work I'd spent over the years studying to get and remain certified as a WFR. I don't use the certification for my work (I work in the computer industry), I just did it years ago because Basilbop and I did a lot of trips by ourselves into remote areas, and I felt at least one of us should have some skills to help ourselves. I was SOOO happy... I looked forward to telling one of my friends, who is an avid climber/backpacker and happens to be an ER doc what happened! Chick-on probably thought I was a raving lunatic. Strangely, I'm still thrilled that I kept it together, remembered what to do, could tell someone what needed to be done, and everything worked. Okay, I had a brain fade and had an accident. It's how you deal with the accident that makes a real difference, I think.
Anyway, as we were trying to find a puddle-free spot to set up, we were worrying about Basilbop, who had not yet hailed us on the radio, and we figured our window to first contact had already opened. We seriously thought about hiking BACK to make it easier on HIM. But in looking at what we'd have to do, and me thinking about my poor wing... and the fact he had chosen the general area for camping... and knowing how strong he is... I made an executive decision and called it. And just as we were starting to get the tent, he hailed us on the radio. And we discussed and it turned out he had been making good time, hadn't gotten rained on yet, and told us to set up shop. So, we did. I was thankful by then to crawl into the dry tent and try to warm up, as we'd been basically standing around discussing for half an hour, and I had been getting chilled - which was probably a good thing for my shoulder, but not my core.
Within an hour, I was warmed up, the Tylenol was working, Basilbop had shown up and we had a good dinner, hot drinks and I felt much better.
I found I could still move enough to change my own clothes, which I thought was a good sign, and I kept testing my shoulder. The initial instability was already much reduced and things seemed to progressively get more stable as time passed.
The next morning, I felt good enough, I chose to continue the trip, and though we had to be careful, we managed just fine and finished the entire loop we'd planned. What Basilbop and I did do, however, was haul out on the third day with Chick-on instead of spending Memorial Day itself lazing about the canyon. I felt it wasn't worth it just to stay out there, and things were a tad more difficult than otherwise with my "broken wing" as they called it at first.
The name has now morphed into "broken flipper" and the dome is now called "Broken Flipper Dome". I'm now called Flipper. I don't know when that will end. But oh well.
Huge thanks to Chick-on for all his help, and to Basilbop for all his support right after. Both of them helped me get through and enjoy a truly fabulous trip.
Front country tidbits:
We ran into my doctor friend at a restaurant we frequent in Oakdale on our way out. She was going in with a climbing buddy. So I got to tell her straight away about my adventures! Yay! She said in the hospital they usually need heavy narcotics before they can reduce the dislocation. I figure that's because it's been awhile by the time you see a doctor. From my training, you have about 10-15 minutes to reduce, or else you have a lot of muscle spasms to deal with that the reduction process takes a LOT longer. (Different technique.)
I saw my doc on Tuesday after Mem Day, he showed me another way to reduce. Both work. He was pleased that it went back in that easily, and that it seemed I hadn't torn anything. But he wanted an X-ray to be sure no hidden fractures. So, Xray. And PT to work on it. And so far, the PT says it seems very stable, no tissue tears, just need to keep strengthening it, and she feels I'll make a full recovery with no issues. It's my first full dislocation. I partially dislocated that shoulder over a decade ago... but it's been as solid as any of my joints are, since. (I'm hyper-mobile, so ongoing work keeping everything stabilized.)
I've got my book loaded onto my iPhone. I'll probably start reading it again. I get re-certified every two years... but I'm thinking I should stay a bit fresher. So glad I had the training, though! So very glad.
And I haven't missed a weekend yet. Just got back from four days this past weekend. More on that soon, I expect.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 06/12/2015 04:50AM by JustKeepWalking.
