Look, Dakota--I updated:) THIS IS A LETTER I WAS GOING TO SEND TO THOSE WHO I NEED TO THANK, BUT HAVEN'T GOTTEN AROUND TO IT YET. IS IT A DUMB IDEA? While being drugged, poked, and prodded, I received countless cards, gifts, thoughts, and prayers. I couldn’t properly thank those who had encouraged me so greatly (I’m going to play the “I was drugged” card on this one). And I’ve been so busy with rehabilitation, travel, and insurance that I just NOW have gotten to thanking people. Better late than never, right? And, because I have been asked by many people how this all happened and what’s going to happen, I thought I’d explain a bit of that—kind of like one of those long Christmas letters people write that I always attempt but they never turn out right so I never send them out. The Beginning I have this list of things that I want to do by the time I die. Some of the more adventurous items are skydiving, white water rafting (accomplished last year) and skiing. You can tell I’m my mother’s daughter. Justin (a Tandy family friend who is now my own) said he was going skiing and staying with some friends. I said I had never gone and he said I should come too. So, off we travel to Colorado to stay with this great couple who used to go to York College. Skiing I, of course, did NOT heed my parents’ wisdom by taking a skiing class--it was like 80 bucks! Justin taught me how to turn and slow down and I seemed to learn really quickly. Those bunny slopes were nothing for me. I sped down them almost as fast as I could, being sure to dodge all the people scattered down the slope. I grew concerned that I might hit some of them because they were sometimes clumped together and they just littered the slopes. So, I thought a more advanced slope was worthy of my time. Justin and I travel to the next slope and the next. We skied until about 3:30, when I went down a slope for the second time, that I guess I shouldn’t have gone on in the first place. It was a slope that had several jumps on it. The goal for me was to avoid the jumps and hit the very small bumps. However, my second time down this slope, I sped entirely too fast and could no longer turn. I struggled to avoid a jump, but ended up having to straighten myself out to hit it square. And, boy did I hit it! I flew up in the air, and I vaguely remember being upside-down and telling myself, “hey, you need to turn back around. . .how do you do that?” Justin said I flew like 10-15 feet above the jump and the whole mountain gasped as those surrounding the slope and those on the ski lift watched the stupid girl flip upside-down and land somewhere around the neck region. In doing so, I knocked myself out by kicking myself in the head with my own skis. Yes—that’s me, the idiot. Justin said I seizured some, which of course, I don’t remember. But, the ski resort paramedics got me on a board and carted me off to their first aid place. And, as they carried me off, a worker told another worker, “we have to get a shovel to cover up all the blood.” I have memories of waking up in their first aid facility. I liked the space heater they had. They cut off my outer clothing and sent them and my car with Justin to the hospital (an hour’s drive). They had planned on giving me an ambulance which was already there for someone with a broken leg, but they decided to life-flight me to a trauma center in Denver instead (cost of $10,430). I do remember the helicopter. I remember looking at it and thinking, “I really hope they don’t strap me to the outside like they do in M*A*S*H—I’m really cold”. Which, gratefully, technology has advanced since the 1950’s; I reached the hospital in 7 minutes. The paramedics kept asking me questions to make sure my concussion wasn’t relapsing. I made them laugh a couple times, so I guess my humor was almost intact, though I know I kept drifting in and out of sleep. <Where are you?> “Colorado.” <What were you doing?> “Skiing.” <Oh? Are you any good?> I gesture to my present condition, “Well, apparently NOT!” At the hospital, after hours of MRI’s and x-rays and such, we learned that I had broken my tibia and fibula (yes, those are in the lower leg). They broke right around the knee. You know how a dog bone has those two lumps at the ends? Well, one of my lumps broke off. I was disillusioned and believed I would simply have a cast put on and would leave the hospital the next day. I told my mother she should stay in Nebraska. But, Dad was intelligent and called the nurse in charge to ask about me (about 5 minutes after they talked to me—see how much they trust me!!J). Nurse said there was no way they’d let me go. Mom flew in the next morning (to which I’m very grateful). I stayed in the ICU for 3 days. One of these days my IV infiltrated, which made me dehydrated and it took 5 people and upwards of 20 tries to get an IV in me. It was miserable, but I had the constellation of “Casiopia” on my hand afterward. All the bruises sort of looked like star nebulas, which I thought was fun since I couldn’t really go outside and star-gaze. Due to the nature of the break, we decided that Dr. Desai should perform the surgery (he does it all the time in ski-country, where this break is most likely to occur); he had to mold a plate onto my bones and screw in the piece from the plateau that broke off. They allowed us to leave for a hotel until surgery, a week and a half away. Mom was generally entertaining and I had 15 minute/day internet access, which I very thankful for. I suddenly felt connected. The third break in this letter that I can’t find a name for I love the internet. I hate surgery. I thought that surgery would make my knee feel BETTER. I was disillusioned in this as well. I am still astonished at how much more the surgery hurt than the actual breaks. And it seemed like my forehead (which is now graced by a nasty scar) never did hurt. Dad drove over for the surgery and, after 3 days in the hospital, he drove Mom and me back to Nebraska. I recouped there for 2 weeks. I saw a follow up doctor and traveled to York where I am currently living. Justin offered to temporarily move out of his house so I could stay in a home with no stairs. The Tandy’s house was not conducive to my no-fall goal with the many stairs to the bathroom and bedroom, and the laundry room in the basement. So, I took this generous optionJ Michele moved in with me so I would have someone with me. I’m presently working half days, and going to physical therapy three times a week. I’ll soon be working full days. I can bend my leg more than 90° and can ALMOST bend it completely straight. I can lift my leg up (A GREAT FEAT) and am now trying to bend my leg even more. I’ve just started weight bearing with crutches so it LOOKS like I’m walking. I greatly appreciate the thoughts and prayers that have come my way. I do still need them as I heal. I just wanted to give everyone a head’s up on what’s happening. I wanted to thank you for your phone calls, cards, thoughts, and prayers. It really did have a huge positive impact through all this. Thank you for showing me God’s love and comfort when I needed it. | 
