Six Months Ago I Had Surgery

Six months ago, I had surgery to clear a massive hematoma in my neck, which paralyzed me, the result of a freak complication from surgery two weeks prior.

Let’s back up a bit.

On January 22nd, 2024, I fell in my backyard, resulting in paralysis, permanent injury to my spinal cord, and a condition called Central Spinal Cord Syndrome.

TL;DR I fell in January and was paralyzed. I had surgery and two weeks later developed a hematoma and was paralyzed AGAIN. Six months ago I had surgery. I am still recovering. If you’d like support, we have a GoFundMe, or you can use PayPal Venmo or Cash App. Thank you!

It had snowed a few days before, resulting in about two inches of wet snow blanketing the grassy surfaces of suburban southwest Ohio. The roads and driveways of the neighborhood had long since cleared. In fact, just the day prior, Rebecca and I had shoveled our driveway and walked around the corner to shovel the driveway of her parent’s house, where she grew up—typical Cincinnati Winter stuff. Our younger puppy has a predilection for (sorry, this is disgusting but an important detail) eating her own poop. She had also recently developed a taste for her brother’s. So, on this cold, wintery day, I ventured out to pick up poop. I slipped and fell. I slid down a hill in our backyard. Embarrassing, shaken up, but no pain or injury. Later in the morning, I ventured out again. This time, Buster had made near the top of the hill in our backyard, in a spot he rarely, if ever, goes. I tried to stabilize myself, but inevitably, I fell again. This time, it was different.

When I slipped, my legs went straight out and slightly up; the momentum from slipping accelerated my body into a position where I crashed down on my back. I hit the ground. Hard. I did not black out, but there was a brief moment where everything kind of lost color for a moment. A pause. I didn’t see stars, and I didn’t hit my head, but there was a moment of weirdness. Suddenly, things snapped back into focus and color. I was looking up at the tree and the sky. It was blue and crisp and cold.

I couldn’t move.

There was a weird moment of overwhelming panic where I actually felt clear and focused. I could not move. But I could think. I could see. And I could talk. I knew in that moment I needed help. And fast. I lay there in the cold snow and calmly tried to invoke SIRI. Nothing. Was my phone in my pocket, or did it fall out? I reached for it, but reality set in. I couldn’t move. I tried again. Nothing. I realized my predicament. It was winter, so not many people were outside. I was in my backyard pretty far back and on the ground. I began to call for help. I could talk. I could scream. I began shouting, “I’ve fallen, I’m paralyzed, I need help.” Over and over again. As loud as I could muster. Nothing. Minutes clicked by. Occasionally my dogs checked on me. But no help. I called for SIRI again. “Hey, SIRI, call 911!” Hey SIRI, call Rebecca!” Nothing. “I’ve fallen, I’m paralyzed, I need help.” Again. Finally, a response. Patty. A neighbor on the next street over a few doors down. She was letting her own dog out. “Patty, it’s Rich Richmond! I’ve fallen, I’m paralyzed, I need help!” She called 911. Help was on its way.

“I’m coming!” another voice I don’t recognize. I look up and see Michelle, another neighbor, climbing fences and crossing yards to get to me. Help was coming, but I still could not move. Now, real panic gripped me. Now, the crying and hyperventilating begin. Now, I can be scared.

Eventually, my legs started to move. By the time the EMTs arrived and loaded me up, my arms had begun to move. At the hospital, they cut off my favorite Boba Fett/Ohio shirt. And began the long process to where we are now.

I had my first surgery on January 26th. Dr. Michael Kachmann performed the surgery. Essentially, this was a surgery that was going to have to happen anyway, as I’d been having problems with my neck, but the injury expedited and complicated things. I came out of surgery and began rehab. I could now move everything except my arms and hands, which could move but not well. Prognosis was good and rehab began in earnest. Eventually, I was discharged and moved to a rehab hospital to continue my recovery and rehabilitation.

Things were going well until the morning of February 5, 2024. I woke up with some pain in my neck that had not previously been there. I couldn’t sit and eat breakfast without pain. As the day progressed, the pain increased. I would try and do PT or OT sessions but the pain became overwhelming. An X-ray was ordered, but it never happened. By the evening, the pain had become pretty unbearable. My wife and my nurse, Sarah, were concerned. “This isn’t like him” Rebecca expressed. Sarah called the doctor and explained the X-Ray never occurred and my pain had increased. They sent me back to the hospital. On the way there in the ambulance, my pain became so intense. I could not lay on my neck without extreme, searing pain. I arrived at the hospital and waited. An X-Ray and MRI were performed and I was admitted to the hospital to await the results.

During admission, my pain intensified to where I was thrashing in my bed. Suddenly, unexpectedly a familiar sensation. Paralysis. I was on my side and couldn’t move. I told my nurse. She didn’t believe me. “Try and move your leg,” she said. “I can’t move,” I replied. She realized this was bad.

Have you ever seen any television medical drama? ER, Gray’s Anatomy, Chicago Hope? Yea, that’s what happened next. Except instead of watching the action from the outside, I had a full patient POV of total medical chaos. Within moments my room was full of people.

I started to fade. I could feel myself slipping. “Call my wife. Tell her what’s happening. Tell her I love her.” I won’t say I ever “saw the light” or anything. I did not have an “out of body” experience. But I could feel myself getting weaker and literally slipping away. Like very slowly falling asleep. I was scared. I heard them shouting things that I knew from the aforementioned TV dramas to be bad. “He’s crashing!” “BP 80 over 40!”

Dr. Randall J. Hlubek stepped in for a vacationing Dr. Kachmann. He explained we were going into surgery. A hematoma had developed in my neck. It was unexpected and rare, especially for this long after my initial surgery, but it happened. It was pushing on my spine, causing the paralysis.

I woke up again at Bethesda North. This time I could not move my arms and hands very well. The secondary trauma on my spine complicating an already complicated situation.

Thus began the next part of my journey. I spent the next eight weeks in the hospital, at two different rehab facilities, and fighting my insurance company. I’ll spare the details, but those were the toughest 8 weeks of my life. I could not have made it without the support of Rebecca, Wes, Emi, family and friends, and the most amazing nurses, PTs, and OTs.

So, here we are. Six months from my last surgery. I am home. I am back to work full-time. I am doing outpatient PT 2x per week. I am in a much better spot than I was of course, but far from 100%. We are seeing improvements and that is encouraging.

So that’s my story. Do with it what you will. If you’d like support, we have a GoFundMe, or you can use PayPal Venmo or Cash App. Thank you!