A Change of Direction

Now that I'm on break and have had some time to reflect, I've reached something of a crossroads in the narrative's direction. I have been overly preoccupied with retelling the scope of my bodily destruction thus far, and while that is certainly of incredible personal importance to me, such a focus obfuscates the true spirit and intent of my foray into the Blogosphere.

Instead, this therapeutic outlet was intended as a way for me to share some of my more meaningful introspections, and while a certain degree of context is essential to properly frame and legitimize my story and related thoughts, anything beyond that undermines my primary purpose. So, in light of this, the historical narrative is soon to be concluded, with its remainder built almost entirely on a fairly skeletal rendition of the past two or so years; more detailed, specific information will be mostly confined to the role of providing sufficient background for my various musings.

Semester's End...

As evidenced by my posting delinquency, I have been preoccupied with the triple whammy of school, work, and the gradual efforts to hammer my body back into a serviceable, injury-free state. The remainder of November and the first week or two of December will undoubtedly continue this trend, but--and this promise is ironshod--I will conclude the historical aspects of this narrative and bring my tale wholly into the present during the five weeks I'll have off for Christmas. Guaranteed.

A Great Ad Hoc Moment...

To momentarily fast-forward to modern times, as suggested (thanks, inamo) on a health and fitness forum I frequent, I've started using my old walker as a dip station. This is a total aside, but there is something immensely satisfying and positively symbolic about this conversion.

(Although I've consistently missed my established deadlines thus far, I will do my best to advance the narrative to modern times within the next couple months at the latest.)

Another Update...

Well, I obviously seem unable to make good on my posting timelines, announced or otherwise, but I'll continue the narrative when able; hopefully I'll be able to cover most of the "meat" of my solitary month in inpatient rehab in relatively short order.

Accident History: Part 7

And speaking of relapses, I neglected to mention another set of respiratory hurdles during my hospitalization. Due to the lung punctures and bronchial tearing, I was afflicted with an extreme bout of pneumonia and the initial doubt over whether or not my right lung could even be saved. My thoracic surgeon (who would require two attempts at reattaching my torn right bronchus and succeed on the second try primarily through the creative use of surrounding fibrous tissue to wrap the bronchus in place) cautioned my parents that the prospects of saving the lung were grim, and although he may be forced to remove it if the procedure went badly, he would do his damnedest to save it.

As I indicated earlier, the reattachment was successful, and despite the concern over my right lung's survival, shortly thereafter it began circulating blood once again and began to heal itself. (My chronology might be a bit off on this one: as I understand it now, the right lung began showing tangible signs of regeneration within a fairly short time after the bronchial reattachment, but its ultimate fate remained in doubt for some time.)