tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2186593343917545414.post3056526197110352965..comments2024-03-10T12:29:30.004-07:00Comments on pediatric neurology: Triumph over adversity 3Galen Breningstall, MDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07170864203251456228noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2186593343917545414.post-3564052487267321072016-07-26T22:14:36.035-07:002016-07-26T22:14:36.035-07:00I've known a lot of athletes who qualified for...I've known a lot of athletes who qualified for the Olympic Games despite injuries. But I know of only one who qualified because of an injury.<br /><br />Cliff Meidl's story captures the spirit of the Olympics. And it shows how the values of those events at their best can help us become better sports physicians. Although our technical skills count for a lot, we can only facilitate our patients' healing. They must do the hardest part of the work themselves.<br /><br />In November 1986, Cliff, a 20-year-old plumber's apprentice, hit three buried high-voltage electrical cables with a jackhammer. An estimated 30,000 volts surged through his body, exploding bone and cartilage from the inside all the way up to his head. To put that into perspective, electric chairs use only 1500-2000 volts for executions. So it's safe to say that Cliff should have died.<br /><br />And he nearly did. His heart stopped. Paramedics were able to get it going again, but they had to resuscitate him on the way to the hospital.<br /><br />One year out of fellowship, I was an attending physician at the University of California Medical Center in Los Angeles when Cliff arrived there. I had spent years preparing to treat the worst imaginable traumas, but Cliff's injuries were unimaginable. Burns covered over 15% of his body. One shoulder blade had burst. He needed flaps and skin grafts. But worst of all, more than one third of each leg had disintegrated.<br /><br />As part of a team with renowned plastic surgeon Malcolm Lesavoy, MD, and others, I got to work reconstructing Cliff's legs. We brought to the job all the skill we could muster in 17 procedures. Our best hope was to avoid amputation.<br /><br />But very quickly, we noticed something else going on—something that had nothing to do with our expertise. Through every step of his painful rehabilitation, Cliff grew more and more determined. He never complained. He just asked, "What's next?"<br /><br />Before he had even finished the rehabilitation, Cliff started paddling various watercrafts. The days spent on crutches had already strengthened his upper body, and he took naturally to the sport. The same year in which he was injured, he began competing in canoe and kayak events, and in 1996 he qualified for the Olympics—not the Paralympic Games, the Olympic Games.<br /><br />Four years later, in Sydney, Australia, I was overseeing the sports medicine team at the Olympic soccer tournament. I was sitting in the stands during the opening ceremonies when Cliff walked into the Olympic Stadium carrying the Stars and Stripes.<br /><br />It's a long-standing tradition for delegations of athletes to select one among their number to bear the flag, and the choice often symbolizes some extraordinary accomplishment. I had no idea that Cliff would be selected. So when he strode into the stadium with a normal gait, I nearly broke down.<br /><br />Moments like that reinforce what I have always believed: that sport can bring out the best in us all.<br /><br />http://www.medscape.com/viewarticle/866279Galen Breningstall, MDhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07170864203251456228noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2186593343917545414.post-60619786303356065212016-07-15T12:00:08.237-07:002016-07-15T12:00:08.237-07:00It’s not about the wheelchair
Aaron Fotheringham’s...It’s not about the wheelchair<br />Aaron Fotheringham’s confinement to a wheelchair isn’t stopping him from attaining his dreams.<br /><br />http://www.aish.com/sp/pg/Blessed.html?s=featGalen Breningstall, MDhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07170864203251456228noreply@blogger.com