On December 13th, 2014 my life changed in an instant. I had always been a healthy active person, but I never realized this would come into play to eventually save my life on this day. We were in Whistler BC and eager to get up the mountains for our holidays. What was supposed to be a normal day of snowboarding with friends and my boyfriend turned into a whirlwind disaster! The mountain was in extremely poor conditions and I truly believe should not have been open that weekend. However they are a multimillion dollar establishment, and likely wasn’t going to turn customers away – they even advertised that the “alpine” was going to open that weekend. So when we purchased our lift tickets that day, I was weary. I could tell from the ground the mountain was in one of the worst conditions I have ever seen it open in the 5 years I had spent riding that mountain. Regardless, my boyfriend had just driven 18 hours to spend the holidays with me and we had made the trip up to specifically go riding that day. So we purchased our lift tickets and went up to the newly opened “alpine”.
We made our way to an area called 7th Heaven once we saw the green light turn on. Upon approaching the chair lift, myself and my friend (also a long term Whistler resident) were shocked by the amount of people already waiting in line.
Hundreds of people flooded the “Sunshine Boulevard” cat track, which was the only exit from the alpine area. Since we did not want to waste 2 hours in a massive line for the 7th Heaven chair, we followed suit. Not only was it packed by people zooming past to exit that area but there were rocks scattered throughout the run as well as a ditch of water flowing down the mountain. People were unstrapping their bindings and walking over the potential hazards. As I approached a particularly busy area of this run, I could see many rocks sporadically sticking out – to the point that I was concerned that I would hit one. I reduced my speed, but needless to say, I hit a very large rock, projecting me to land on hard packed snow/ice flat on my abdominal area. I knew I had done serious damage at the point of impact – but I didn’t know to what extent. My friends left immediately to get Ski patrol for help. My boyfriend and I waited for over 20 minutes for someone to come to my assistance. We began to film others falling in the same area, knowing that this was extremely dangerous and the area should not be open. Enough time had passed and waiting had become futile so we had decided to slowly start walking to a chairlift. As we were walking we met Ski Patrol, I was accessed by her and informed that nothing was wrong. I was given two options – “Stay and wait for a toboggan – but this might take over an hour to get to you” or “continue walking”. By this point I was in a state of shock, frustration, in pain and made the decision to walk. With a damaged pancreas and spleen I walked almost the full trail – 4KM to the chairlift. Ski patrol followed us for a while and then just vanished (I’m assuming now she was probably helping another injured person on the same run.) Initially we waited for her but after 10 minutes of standing in excruciating pain, I felt hopeless so we continued to walk. After what felt like forever, we finally got to “Wizard Express”. We told the chair lift attendant that I had been injured and needed to download. Once back in the village I managed to walk to Guest Relations. I got a refund for my lift ticket as well my boyfriend’s – telling Guest Relations I had hurt myself and requested Ski patrol to access me again. I was told “they are too busy, and no one is around”.
Already in my eyes Whistler/Blackcomb had failed me. Not only were they opening areas that were clearly not safe, in poor conditions and dangerous for hundreds of people to have access to and from, but now Ski patrol had left me alone on the mountain with a severe injury. A lift attendant knew I was injured and contacted no one, Guest Relations couldn’t find Ski Patrol to access me again. I left and went to my friend’s home where I was staying.
The moment I had arrived home I began to vomit blood and the excruciating abdominal pain continued. I had tried to ‘shrug it off’ thinking that the wind was still knocked out of me and trusting the Ski Patrol’s assessment – heck I did just walk off the mountain! Thankfully my boyfriend knew better (he has some first aid experience) and we went straight to the Whistler Hospital. After 6 hours of agony, a CT scan and MRI, finally they determined that I had spilt my pancreas upon impact and potentially infected my spleen. I was rushed down to VGH emergency in Vancouver and into trauma surgery. At the time my doctor only told me they needed to remove a part of my pancreas and my scar would be horizontal and only 2 inches big. I spent several hours in surgery and then finally awoke to 9 tubes coming out of me, and this large vertical scar that went all the way down my tummy. I was in shock to be honest, I didn’t understand the severity of my accident and that if I didn’t have this surgery I wouldn’t be here today. I had a tube in each nostril, a tube in my neck, 2 IV’s in each arm, 2 drainage tubes on the left side of my abdomen, an epidural in my lower back and a catheter to pee from. I felt like an octopus. I didn’t feel human. The recovery was extremely horrible and painful and I wouldn’t wish this recovery on anybody else. Your pancreas is quiet far back in your body, which stumped my doctors on why I hurt my pancreas and not my spleen or stomach as they are in front of the pancreas. So in saying that, in order to recover my body had to literally learn how to digest and process food again. Everything had been moved and re-arranged in my insides, along with missing 35% of my organ, so it was very difficult to begin to start eating. If I was able to pass gas it was honestly a huge victory that my digestive system was working again. Every morning in the hospital I was woken up at 6am by a needle being prodded in my arm for blood tests, then they would drain my tubes that were sucking out enzymes that were floating around the inside of my abdominal area. I hated them being drained, I swear I could feel the suction when they would close them back up. Then I would be served breakfast – which either went down at first but then I would vomit it all back up – which was extremely painful as my tummy had that massive scar which was still an open wound at the time with staples all down it – so moving my stomach – let alone it convulsing to push something back up wasn’t pleasant at all. I spent a total of 11 days in the hospital – each day having a new tube pulled out of me. The tube pulling is probably my hardest memory to overcome and sparks my PTSD a lot. Some of the tubes were at least a foot long all curled up inside of me, so having that literally PULLED out of you (by a trainee nurse….) was honestly horrendous. Each tube has its own story. The worst ones I think were my nose (which were feeding tubes that went all the way down to my stomach) When they pulled one it got caught on the other – then I couldn’t breath as the tubes were stuck and both of them had to be pulled out at the same time – forcing myself to have to move to solid food quicker than originally anticipated. Second worst was the drainage tubes – these were around 2cm thick and LONG. It felt like I was going down a rollercoaster or something. Last was my neck tube – thankfully this was the first one to be pulled and I was heavily drugged but I remember it feeling so bizarre and just wanted it to stop.
I was extremely weak but perseverant on getting out of there – I just wanted to feel normal again.
A day after my surgery – I shocked my doctors when I asked to walk. My boyfriend helped me out of bed with all my tubes, and they took me into a training room to walk around and walk up and down some stairs – it honestly felt amazing to move and I was happy to show my doctors I could do this. I thankfully was quiet fit and healthy before this accident – which I was told over and over is what saved me and helped with my recovery – essentially my body was ready for battle. My boyfriend was my rock and I couldn’t have made it through without him. He was there every day with a smile on his face pushing to keep me happy, he wouldn’t even let the nurses give me a bath – he insisted on doing it himself, which is a memory I will never forget – him holding up my limp body up washing my wounds with a small wet towel.
After almost 2 weeks in hospital, I had all my tubes removed – had a final CT scan and sadly still had enzymes in me – so I had to go back into surgery to get another tube put back in me. This time though I had to be wide awake – as the tube needed to go in-between my ribs and they needed to make sure it didn’t puncture my lung. I was terrified. This procedure was extremely unconformable. I felt large amounts of pressure when they were pushing the tube in me….I think I even screamed out in pain…and the nurse told me it was okay and to scream away cause I was so strong. They had to do this whole procedure under the CT scanner so they could see exactly where the enzyme cluster was. I was discharged on Christmas eve with that last drainage tube in me for another 6 weeks.
I spent 6 weeks carrying a little vacuumed bag around that was sucking out enzymes out of me, I had to drain it myself each night, and for those 6 weeks I also had a stay at home nurse come and change my scar and tube bandages twice a week.
Healing the scar was painful, uncomfortable and tight. As soon as I could I started doing light stretching and exercises I did. I would walk around my house with that tube still in me and do light lunges and squats on a chair to try and stimulate all my muscle mass I had lost laying in a bed for 2 weeks. I couldn’t get back into actual physical activity for about 6 months after my accident, and when I did it was slow and steady. I listened to my body non-stop, and only pushed it when I felt I could.
Everyday my scar would hurt .I found new ways to ease the pain like – massaging it daily, I would rub, pick up the skin, move it around in-between my fingers to break up that scar tissue underneath – this did/still does feel horrible but I knew had to be done to get more mobility back in my abdominal area. I was stretching lots, and doing things like the Cat Pose from Yoga to push my tummy out to stretch my scar. I also used a homemade coffee ground scrub mixed with coconut oil, this I feel has reduced the appearance.
2 years later I still feel pain/tightness in my scar, I still get random pains “inside” where my pancreas tail used to be…like when I cough, laugh or sneeze hard or get over stressed.
I was left with PTSD from the accident/surgery and have been learning to deal with now the mental health aspect of dealing with Trauma. I have to avoid certain foods now like cheese and alcohol as they don’t digest well in my system. But I am here, and I am alive.
Some Lessons learned from accident:
1) Honestly my biggest one is just to live in the moment. Live in the NOW every day, because you don’t know what will be around that corner.
2) Being Fit and healthy – this is what I tell everyone on why I started @surgery2strong – without myself being in good shape BEFORE my accident I honestly think my recovery would have span months and years compared to weeks. My body was “ready for battle” so learn to take care and love the body you are in, because again you never know what could happen.
3) They say bad things happen fast – but good things happen slow. This has been a big motto for me since my accident, the bad did happen in a blink of an eye….but the good has taken time – but it is slowly building. Each day I get stronger, and each day I feel more proud of everything I have overcome.
4) Love yourself – learning to love my new body with this massive scar down my tummy hasn’t been easy – it still brings me to tears some mornings, but it’s my body. And I can’t change it for anyone else’s, so I must learn to love it. But all women need to love and build their own confidence, because if you don’t love and care for yourself – who will?!
Sophie Gillett, Founder of @Surgery2Strong
Any individuals in sports and fitness who would like to share their voice, please submit to hank@hankfittraining.com