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Rated: 18+ · Non-fiction · Biographical · #1179615
A true account of the events leading up to and after a an Alpine climbing accident in 1968
In 1968, I was in the final stages of my first marriage- the time when "How's it going?" can start a fight. We went to the country for the weekend as we usually did and first thing, before coffee and we (my wife and I) were screaming at each other when one of my daughters reminded us that there was a weekend guest in the kitchen.
I stormed out the back door and almost ran up the path to the mountains that rose up over our backyard. I started climbing the face in tennis shoes and alone in a state of rage and frustration, leaping from rock to rock as fast as I could, never stopping to think or appraise the path ahead. I found myself at a place where I'd een several times before, with a boulder in front of me that blocked the trail. The only way to proceed was to grab the small rock that stuck out above the boulder and swing around the boulder to the trail ahead.

The rock I grabbed suddenly came loose and I was falling straight down the face of the cliff. My fall of almost thirty meters, as estimated by the rescue team, was partially broken by the bush I hit just before I reached the ground. When I regained consciousness (I evidently passed out before I hit- I never could remember landing) When I awoke, there was a young man sitting about six feet from where I was lying who asked me if I was Lili's father. After I managed to confirm that I was he said:
"I like Lili, she makes me laugh" and I realized that he was "the village idiot" a mentally retarded boy who worked with his brother selling firewood to the people of the village where we had our weekend/summer place. The village itself was on the edge of Lake Como, about 40 miles from Milan where I had my office.
I tried to explain that I needed emergency help but the boy didn't quite understand and kept chatting about village life until his brother, who had heard us talking, arrived in the clearing where I had fallen. He immediately understood that I was in trouble. He first tried to lift me up but I was able to make him understand that I had probably injured my back and that I needed an ambulance. He ran down to the village to get help and told his brother to wait there with me.

The emergency crew came sometime later, I passed out for a while after the brother left and when I came to someone in uniform was leaning over me. It was a Carabinieri, a member of the Italian national police force. I explained what had happened and then the emergency crew carefully rolled me into a stretcher and carried me down the trail to the village.

When I awoke I was in a hospital bed, with an older man in a white coat sitting at my bedside and a nun standing near the door. He introduced himself:

"Signor, I am Dr. Fischetti and I am the doctor in charge of this hospital.
You were brought by the Emergency Rescue Crew last night and have
been unconscious for almost nine hours. How do you feel now? Are you
having much pain/" he asked. Then he too a small flashlight
and prodded my leg with it.

"Can you feel that" I told him I couldn't.
"Can you move your legs at all?" - I couldn't.

"We need to take some X-rays to know the extent of your injuries
but first we need to help with your pain" and he told the nun to get
me some "Valeriana" After she left, I told the Dr. tha my pain was quite severeand asked him if "Valeriana" (herbal tea) was the strongest pain killer he could offer and he said:
"Caro Signor" (My dear sir) "I understand how you as an American would be disturbed to find that we are not using strong pain killers to alleviate the paion you are experiencing but if I did give you any of these we would be unable to know much about the causes of the pain and until we do, we can not treat these causes. In fact we could have a pain-free dead patient. You must trust me sir"
After Dr. Fischetti left the room, the Sister brought me my herbal tree in a cup with a straw and held it while I drank. Then she left and I lay there thinking about the last 24 hours and remembered my "dream" of the night before. In my sleep I understood that I had a good chance of being paralyzed, that I might not regain the use of my legs. Knowing this I wondered if I wanted to live the rest of my life as a cripple or should I just "stop living"? In my "dream" I seemed to enter somekind of passage- darkness around and behind me and light at the end. It was like being in some kind of clinder or tube and I understood that if I continued towards the light I would leave my crippled body behind -never to return to it.
I chose to go back. I chose to live even if it meant being crippled..

After the X-rays were devloped the Doctor told me that (among other things) I had smashed four vertebrates and that I would eventually be put in a plaster cast to protect them while they were healing but in the meantime, until I was stronger, I should lie still in bed and avoid absolutely any non-essential movement. So it was bed-pans, sponge baths etc and "no drugs".
The next day a younger doctor stopped by to tell that my wife was waiting to see me and asked if I felt strong enough for a short visit. He also told me how they had kept me in a waiting room when I was first admitted until they had confirmed my identity and my insurance. He said that there were so many foreigners who were brought in after climbing or skiing accidents with no money or insurance papers that it was necessary for the hospital to adopt this procedure or they would "go broke" Fortunately, my wife had been told about the accident by Carabinieri and she had followed the ambulance to the hospital and provided proof of insurance and signed the usual admittance forms and releases. If she had not arrived I would have been transferred to the state hospital forty miles away (and very possibly died in transit)

My wife came in with the girls (my daughters) they were all trying very hard to be brave but they were obviously frightened and upset and I felt really awfull.
(to be continued)
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