Fall Risk: The Book
In late August, 2016 I woke up in a hospital bed. I was in pain from head to toe. It hurt to breath or to look at the light from the window. I couldn’t move my left leg and my hands were bandaged. I had no idea how I got there or why I was injured. One clue was the wristband on my right arm with these words on it in bold capital letters. FALL RISK.
It turns out I’d been hit by a truck while riding my bicycle to work. I suffered multiple broken bones, a fractured skull, pulmonary blood clots and a traumatic brain injury. I was in a coma for 2 weeks, spent another 2 months on the brain injury floor of Spaulding Rehab Hospital and the best part of a year getting my strength, balance and cognitive ability back at home.
During all that time my FALL RISK bracelet was a constant companion. I kept it on long after I was able to walk safely under my own power. While at first it was a sensible warning to be careful; sound advice not just because of my injuries but because of the multiple escape attempts I made as I floated in and out of consciousness. Early on, in addition to the written caution, I was strapped to my bed which would sound an alarm if I tried to get out.
Ultimately FALL RISK came to mean much more than just a warning. It became a symbol, a lucky charm, a motto that encouraged me to work hard to heal. I soon realized that to fully accept the FALL RISK label meant giving up. It meant stopping trying for fear of falling and getting hurt again. It came to mean
RISK FALLING, exactly the opposite of its initial intention but exactly what I needed to do if I was to get out of that hospital bed and get back to my normal life. I had to take small risks every day; sitting up straight, swinging my legs off the bed, moving to a wheel chair, then to a walker and so on.
I had plenty of opportunity for reflection during that time. As I realized that I came very close to losing my life in that accident, I thought a lot about how I wanted to live my life going forward, what was truly important to me and how I wanted to spend the extra innings I’d been granted. At 62 years old this accident provoked a timely and useful period of self-reflection. Much of that thinking forms the basis for this book. Some great hospital staff, the speech language pathologists who gave me cognitive homework and the psychologist who encouraged me to use my trauma as a reference point for the next phase of life, encouraged my thinking and writing and helped me give it structure.
Among the themes of the book are the following:
Fall Risk
Life is one long fall risk. You can’t learn, grow, improve without testing yourself, without taking yourself out of your comfort zone. And that implied taking risks.
Healing and Leading
They are essentially the same thing. We are encouraging others to improve. Highly skilled professionals certainly “fixed” me, but it took empathy and encouragement to help me take the risks I needed to take to heal.
Trauma and Story
Reflecting on and telling the stories of our traumas allows us to move on in life in a positive way. It helps us avoid PTSD Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and rather experience PTSD Post Traumatic Self Discovery.
Purpose
There’s nothing like being reminded of the impermanence of life, and to have the gift of time to reflect, to get clearer about how you want to live your life. And what, as you move forward, is worth risking, to achieve your purpose.
The first draft of this book was written during the 12 months following the accident. This was a time of great optimism and daily, tangible improvements in my physical and cognitive abilities. I realize now looking back that that was the easy part. I was in the euphoric state created by the relief of not dying and by the successes of getting back on my feet. I used to joke with my wife, Donna, that I was now Sean 2.0; a new, improved version of me, with all of the bugs worked out. She would roll her eyes and say, I love you buddy, but sustaining that feeling will be the real accomplishment, don’t be too disappointed when your old impatient and less zen self reappears. She was right of course. I realize now, some three years later, that these feelings of positive enlightenment would be tested in the real world. And that the real challenge of going through trauma was in finding meaning and purpose in a world where you are basically older and a little less vital than before.
So, the book is a work in progress. In the coming months I’ll be publishing blog posts of the revised chapters, with new stories and fresh perspective. So please keep your eye on this space for updates, and soon, for the finished book.