Please help me continue treatment
I am 30, and live in Zimbabwe, Africa. A friend who lives in Tennessee has helped me set up this campaign.
May 5th 2013 was a day I would never forget....or remember. But it changed my life forever, and now my life hangs in the balance again. Here is my untold story.
That day was a seemingly normal day in Victoria Falls where I lived, but it turned into the most tragic event that is still, to this day forming my life story. This account of that fateful day is as accurate as my memory can give you.
At 25 years old I was chasing life, and my dreams had taken me to Victoria Falls, one of the seven wonders of the world. That day, an hour before the event, I was helping a new friend fuel his vehicle as he’d run out of diesel. A friend of many many years happened to swing by sporting his “new” Suzuki motorcycle. He was very proud and excited about this bike, and I did not hesitate when he offered to take me for a ride. This is the single worst choice I have ever made. It is from this point that my mind has largely chosen to protect me from the horrific events that followed.
I jumped on the back of the motorcycle and he steered us in the direction of the main 'highway' – but before we got there, a car turned right in front of us, without warning. I did not feel the impact. Eye witnesses tell me that my body was projected over my friend as I became airborne. As my limp, unconscious body flew over the vehicle that had pulled out in front of us, my leg got caught in it's bull bar, ripping my leg almost off. My friend took the direct impact from the car that had turned in front of us. I lay limp on the ground, and kept calling my friend's name over and over again. In the midst of this I could feel my body rapidly going into shock as my leg merely hung by a few tendons.
I was told we were loaded into a vehicle and taken to a local district clinic, a primitive establishment in every sense of the word. Medical attention was practically nil and what little help there was, is only available once you pay a hefty upfront down payment. For a solid hour we lay in this ill equipped clinic, with only an IV and clamps placed on our wounds and arteries to prevent extensive blood loss. We were literally dying in a medical facility that could and would not operate. My memory slowly returned at this point, where I understand my basic costs were covered for medical service and I was transported to a town 400kms (250 miles) away. I recall the ambulance ride…swirling pain and immense discomfort throughout my entire body. I drifted in and out of consciousness…voices and lights all around me. I began asking for my friend, but no one would answer me. My only companion at this point was my new friend – from a simple task to put diesel into his vehicle – to a life and death race across the country to save my life – he stayed with me throughout it all.
I do not remember arriving at the hospital or the events that took place immediately following that. But I do remember waking up. My mind was racing through a medically induced cloud, I felt like I could hardly formulate a thought. All I heard were echoes of voices and despite my efforts my visuals were hazy abstracts of reality. The pain was indescribable at this point and it seared through my entire being. My eye was swollen shut, I had a fractured hand, my big toe had been ripped off in the accident and sewn back into place. Cuts and scraped covered all surfaces of my skin. A toxic smell of fresh blood and mentholated spirits hung heavy in my bed area. I desperately tried to feel for my legs or at least find some solace in knowing I was okay. I called out, yet no one heard me as my body was too weak from pain and my voice was hardly audible. I waited hours before learning the truth about the events…and it was at this moment my broken body evolved into a broken heart too. Learning that my long time friend, Bruce, had sadly passed away from his injuries.
As grief and pain churned through my body, the days turned into night, and then day again. Slowly I became more aware of the situation, yet the reality of my injuries were still not communicated to me, despite my many attempts to gain an understanding. Finally, I saw a doctor and was able to ask the questions that no one else had the heart to answer. He did not choose to tell me with words, as there are none when you have an injury such as mine. Instead he simply lifted the blankets and rolled them down to my feet. I saw a piece of metal attached to my femur – shining in the day’s light. Steel rods buried deep into my flesh and bone. It was at that moment that he told me he I had suffered a partial leg separation just above my left knee. 2 tendons and skin behind my knee were the only reasons the bottom half of my leg was still attached. He assured me he had done his best to save my leg.
My mind fought to remain sane as my body went through indescribable suffering and pain. Dressing changes were a memory that remains emotionally painful, every time I saw my own flesh and bone openly exposed, and the pain was unbearable. The smell of my raw damaged flesh and disinfectant continued to haunt my mind with a strong recollection of the times I would black out from pain, suffering strong bouts of nausea and nightmares.
After a period of months, I was able to go home to heal. I could finally get around slowly using a walker. Each step painful but keeping my body moving was important for me. Time came eventually to have the metal external fixator removed.
The first year following the accident was marked by extreme pain. I developed sciatica in my right leg and could barely move. I often would hold onto my blankets so tight my knuckles would turn white, and I would cry in pain, often delirious, moody, angry and sad. More months passed by and and I was still unable to walk or work.
My urgent request for help stems out of the fact I have contracted chronic ostromylitis in the femur bone and behind the plate due to the open fracture which still protrudes out of my skin. I have only the very basic of medicine which is peroxide. Three times a day I inject this into the drainage hole left by the previous operation…in hopes I can clean out the infection and save my leg. Peroxide into an open wound, into the open bone is excruciating – but I do it to stay alive. I desperately need medical attention in another country to prevent the oteomyelitis spreading throughout my body and to save the leg. I have been told this is the only thing that can save my life.
I have fought hard to live. For 5 long years my medical care has only been the most basic care of a 3rd world country. I have a desire to be healed, to be able to contribute to society. I want to be able to stand strong on these two feet God gave me.
Please understand, I am not angry, I am not bitter. I look forward with hope. I have been offered the opportunity to live – and I don’t want to succumb to my injury because of a wound that can easily be healed with the right medical intervention.
This journey over the past 5 years has destroyed a good part of my body, and even left huge wounds in my heart. But despite it all, I want to live. Please, help by giving me a chance?
