A heartfelt expression of gratitude and a plea for patience

by Bruce Sabian, M.A., LMHC

Approaching this summer, I was pretty aware that I had my hands full. In addition to our oncoming camp season, I also faced some challenging staffing changes and an impending move of our practice. Aside from that, in all honesty, the past 2 years had left me pretty burned out. Between navigating the many obstacles brought on by the COVID pandemic along with a forced move precipitated by humans behaving badly (I'm talking to you, Kohr Golf Academy), I was not functioning at my best. Maybe 50% of my days found me driving home from work at night thinking "I don't like anyone and I don't like anything! I just want people to leave me alone!" But at the end of June, my daughter and I spent a week hiking 93 miles on the Massachusetts section of the Appalachian Trail and it had a completely rejuvenating effect on me. We hooked up with a great bunch of thru hikers who shared their knowledge and friendship and I was able to spend a wonderful week connecting with my daughter. We shared  a great adventure in a beautiful area of the country. I got back home eager to get started with the challenges facing us at Academy MetroWest. The work would be hard but we seemed to have everything well in hand.

On the evening of July 19th, that all changed for me. 

That night, I was hanging out at home after a full day at camp. I have an old Yogibo bean bag in my man cave and I had found a home for the night. When I got up to go to bed, I started feeling dizzy. I went upstairs to get some water and promptly passed out. In fact, I passed out more than once though I don't remember exactly how many times. What I do remember is that after one of the falls I was having a lot of trouble holding my head up. I crawled over to the couch to try to wait it out. I waited an hour, then worked my way up to bed and managed to get a couple hours of sleep. But when I got out of bed, I passed out again and this time the pain in my neck was excruciating. I woke my wife up and we called an ambulance that brought me to the ER at Lahey Medical Center and I stayed there for the next 30 hours. They did a lot of testing and said that I had passed out due to a condition called orthostatic hypotension (Translation: you're old, dehydrated, and stood up too fast) but that I had also herniated 2 cervical discs when I fell. They sent me home with some meds and instructions to make an appointment with a neurosurgeon. So we made an appointment but the next one available was six weeks away. I've always been happy with the Lahey network so I decided to be patient even though I couldn't be out of bed for more than 5 or 10 minutes before the pain got to be too much. 

I started gradually improving but a week and a half or so later, I noticed that I was having trouble moving my left arm and that my right arm was also kind of weak. I thought, "Hey, I'm no expert but I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be able to move both of my arms." I checked in with my PCP and he agreed that I am, indeed, supposed to be able to move both arms and that this was a cause for concern. He urged me to call neurosurgery again to try to get a quicker appointment. He said he'd send a message to them to try to get the ball rolling. So I called the neurosurgery department and spoke to a PA who, in effect, said "Yeah. I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be able to move both of your arms. That's a problem. Let's see if we can get you in earlier." Still no dice. So we started looking outside the Lahey system. We saw more than one other doctor but on 8/18, we saw an orthopedic spine specialist who said that not only do I have two herniated discs, but several of my vertebrae had become severely misaligned and that I need emergency surgery "expeditiously." He wrote a report that used terms like "impending neurologic decline," and "high risk of paralysis." As a professional counselor, I spend a lot of time concentrating on communicating difficult messages to my clients with a tactful and supportive tone. This doctor scared the crap out of us but in a really good way. So, my wife and I ventured down to Massachusetts General Hospital and handed them our imaging and reports. By 9:00 that night, I was in surgery. They removed the herniated discs, inserted metal cages in their place, cleaned out the debris from my spinal column, and then screwed the misaligned vertebrae back into place in order to stabilize them. As I write this, it's less than a week later and I'm back at home. I have a follow up in two weeks, followed by what I'm sure will be a lot of PT. But, I expect to make a full recovery – or come very close to it. 

I thought, "Hey, I'm no expert but I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be able to move both of my arms." I checked in with my PCP and he agreed that I am, indeed, supposed to be able to move both arms and that this was a cause for concern.

While all these health related issues were going on, things were really busy at Academy MetroWest. We not only had our regular camp season to manage, but we were also preparing for a move to a new town, and trying to put our fall program together. Before things really came to a tipping point for me, I was able to put in a few hours a day of work from home but it fell to my staff to run camp. What a luxury it was for me this summer to have a staff that was so experienced and talented that they were able to run the show without having a director there to either manage things or get in the way. While everyone was great, I want to offer special thanks and recognition to Tim Couto, who took the initiative to assume the role of acting director while I was out. Tim has been a staff member at Academy MetroWest since 2016 and has always been an excellent counselor. But this summer, Tim became a leader. Not because I asked him to. Not out of ego. He saw what needed to be done and organized the staff to get it done. And he has worked his tail off in the process. I've been able to consult when I was needed but Tim stepped up and he was not the only one, Adam Hurley deserves special props as does Stew Pruslin for their contributions. Nicky Fitzpatrick, Jack DiMento, Chris Miller, and our CITs, Luca Nikolewski, Kevin Pruslin and Lucy Sabian also stepped up and ran what was, by all accounts, a highly successful camp season. 

When camp ended on August 12, we immediately shifted gears and started preparing for our move to Sudbury. Prior to camp, my plan had been to have my staff around for part of the week after camp and then give them a well earned vacation. That would give me enough time to unpack, organize, and finish preparing for September. Of course, that plan was predicated on my having a healthy body, including fully functioning limbs. This past week, my doctor told me that my current limitations can be summed up by the abbreviation BLT: No Bending, Lifting, or Twisting. The fact that I can't do those things now explains why I'm at home in bed writing this blog while Tim, Adam, Stew, some incredible volunteers, Luca Nikolewski and Matt Mori, are moving us in to our new space. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that Tim and Adam, who were joined by Luca, worked 12 hour-days to get us set up and ready to go on opening day, Tuesday, Sept. 6. Not only did they bring their humor to the job (all while having lengthy conversations around the age-old question of whether the Lord of the Rings stories are better told in the books or movies,) they were thoughtful and creative in organizing and executing this move. The same is true for Stew, who transported a lot of our stuff in his own trailer, and Matt Mori, a college student and Academy MetroWest alum, who gave up a couple of days of summer vacation to help us out. 

During the last week, I've gone from serious concern about the prospect of being wheelchair bound for the rest of my life to a state of extreme (and probably annoying) gratitude. My well being appears to be back in my hands. If I do what the doctors and therapists say, I'll most likely be fine. My friends and family have been incredibly supportive. My amazing staff ran a great camp program without me and, each day, they're learning new skills that will help us get up and running in our new facility. 

During the last week, I've gone from serious concern about the prospect of being wheelchair bound for the rest of my life to a state of extreme (and probably annoying) gratitude. My well being appears to be back in my hands.

The question you may be asking is "So what?" or "What's this plea for patience you wrote about in the title?" Well, the answer is twofold. For one, going through a health crisis as scary as the one I just experienced leaves me with an unmanageable urge to thank those people who have helped me get through it. Another reason for writing this is that I am completely aware that more than one important task fell through the cracks this summer. Calls went unreturned. Decisions went unmade. Conflicts went unresolved. What I'm trying to say is that under very difficult circumstances, we did the very best we could. In fact, we did much better than I would have anticipated had someone laid out the facts for me beforehand. Be that as it may, if we didn't return your email or phone call or we weren't as responsive to you as we should have been, I apologize and I humbly ask for another month or two of patience as I continue to recuperate. Now that we're just about entirely moved in to our new space, things ought to start becoming a little simpler for us but there's no way around the fact that there are likely to be more lapses. We will continue to do the best we can and assure you that the quality of our work with children and adolescents will continue at the high level you've come to expect from us. As always, thanks to my staff, clients, family, friends, and community for the love, support and patience you've shown.