Don't Dive in Rivers
My brother dived off an 8-foot high pillar two Saturdays ago into the American River. The same bridge he'd been diving off his whole life. He was there with friends and their families -- many children were diving as well. A few times, like those before him (including those from much higher heights), he thought it was fun.
Then, he hit a sand bar with his head.
He broke the spinal process of C2, burst-fractured C6 with retropulsion and fractured C7.
He is currently paralyzed from the chest down and doesn't have fine motor control in his hands.
He recently kicked his first fight with pneumonia, which is likely to be one of many given the lack of enervation in his abdominal muscles (which you may recall, are sore from coughing, when you or I are sick).
He was *very* *very *very* lucky not to drown, and remembers thinking it was all over. But, he was lucky. Several of his friends dived in to fish him out and swim him to the bank when he couldn't move. On-site coast guard and army medic friends directed the log-rolling and neck-stabilization. Another friend stood on the top of his truck to get cell service to call 911. 15 guys who helped climb and pass him up the hill when the life-flight arrived and realized there was no trail to carry the backboard up the hill.
So, if you will excuse my silence, I'm busy dealing with family stuff, work stuff, and balance. You know, life stuff.
But I'll be back when I can.
I have two requests:
1. Please enjoy life when you can. Fully.
2. Please send whatever good thoughts, wishes, prayers, meditations, or whatever else you can spare.
With love and thanks,