The attendants rolled me into the Intensive Care Unit and into a room that was prepared for me.  "We've got a special bed for you.  It's a roto-bed.  It will gently rock you back and forth so as to prevent you from getting pressure sores." 

Pressure sores?  I'd never heard that term.  I figured it  was one of many new words and phrases I would be learning in this strange new world of paralysis.  I eventually learned that if you spend too much time laying or sitting in one position, parts of your skin (usually the parts nearest a bone) fail to get circulation.  This causes the skin to break down and once that happens, it takes a long time to heal.

So they lined the gurney up with the roto bed and with a "1, 2, 3..." Over I went.  Then came the process of placing cushions between and around my legs and arms and sides.  It was like a large jigsaw puzzle.  I felt as though I was laying in a human mold.

Once I was settled my principal doctor came in.  In time, he would be performing the surgery to realign my broken spinal cord.  It was beyond belief when, after introducing himself, he pulled out a safety pin.  I thought, 'Oh, no.  Here we go again.'

"Tell me when you can feel a stick..."

I was beginning to think when a med student reaches the level of spinal surgery, he's given a safety pin as part of his items of necessity, along with his white coat and stethoscope.  Being the polite man I was raised to be, I was tolerant and cooperative.

After the poking was over, I was informed that they would be attaching a weight to my head that would apply traction to my spine.  They would be placing a horseshoe shaped object around the top of my head.  The open end would have screws that would be inserted into my skull at the temples and a wire would be extended from the top over the end of the bed with a 40 lb. weight at the end.  (I don’t remember the actual poundage but whatever it was, it was significant.)

The nurse came over with a syringe and said, "This is lidocaine that will numb the sites so you won't feel the screws going in.  It will sting a little."  And sting it did!  "It will be over in minute."  She did both sides and after the medicine kicked in, on went the horseshoe traction device.  One nurse held it in place while the doctor screwed the bolts toward their marks simultaneously to line it up.  Then twist, twist, twist... through the skin into the skull.  What a bizarre feeling.  I even heard the sound of a bolt being screwed into the bone of my skull.  I wondered if my doctor had ancestors in Transylvania.