No Complaining and No Excuses

Dawn Patrol Before Surgery 
Snowmasss, Colorado

Photo by John DiCuollo

“Life is Therapy,” says Kelley a physical therapist. The previous day Dr. Tom Hackett, elbow surgeon extraordinaire, at Vail’s esteemed Steadman Clinic spent three hours playing arthroscopic asteroids with the inside of my left elbow. One chunk of bone took Dr. Hackett over 20 minutes to grind away. Afterward, Dr. Viola, the hand specialist, slit my wrist to surgically alleviate carpel tunnel syndrome.

My entire left arm feels like it belongs to someone else. A shrinking rubber ball is pumping Novocain through a thin hose inserted two inches deep into my shoulder. The local anesthetic removes all the pain as well as any sensation and control I have over the wooden-like appendage hanging on my side. Kelley gently but firmly extends then retracts my arm. With a large protractor she measures the extension and reflection. My wife Amy watches in amazement — in the seventeen years we have known each other she has never seen my arm bend this much. Twenty hours out of surgery and I already have more range of motion then I’ve had since 1975. 

Range of Motion 48 hours after Surgery

Movie by Amy McCarthy

When I was seven a branch broke while I was climbing a tree and I fell. I fell hard, arm first. When I hit the ground my elbow fractured into multiple pieces. I spent the next three weeks in a children’s ward of a Boston hospital with a steel pin through my elbow to hold the pieces in place while my arm hung in-traction. Following that, I walked around for a month with a heavy plaster cast. The result: an elbow that bent only half as much as before the branch broke.

As a kid I was never much of an athlete. Hacky Sack and Frisbee, often at the parking lot of a Dead Show, were my only team sports.  I was, however, an avid explorer who loved the outdoors. Long hiking trips in the northern Appalachia as a Boy Scout evolved into multi-week wonderings in the remaining wilderness of the West.  A semester with Colorado Outward Bound laid the foundation for more technical pursuits. My twenties were spent climbing and skiing increasingly difficult routes and peaks. By thirty I was guiding full time — alpine rock for Exum Mountain Guides in Wyoming, scientific expeditions in the hinterlands of Antarctica, and laps on Denali for Alpine Ascents International. I spent all the time I could in the mountains and did not let my elbow slow me down — no complaining and no excuses.

 

Comparison of the Injured Left Elbow and Uninjured Right Elbow

X-Rays by Teton Orthopaedics 

Age can be cruel. By the time I hit forty arthritis had set in. Range of motion in my left arm had declined, significantly. And it hurt. My arm muscles atrophied. Hard rock climbing was over. Mountain biking and paddling became more painful. Long ski tours, requiring repetitive poling, resulted in numb fingers and a throbbing elbow. I began to complain. I asked for help. And in doing so, I learned the story of Kees Brenninkmeyer.

 Kees Brenninkmeyer

Photo by Andre Charland

In 2007, Kees Brenninkmeyer and his girlfriend Claire Dixon died in a ski-mountaineering accident while volunteering as winter hut wardens on the legendary Wapta Traverse, an extended ski-mountaineering tour through the ice caped mountains of Banff and Yoho National Parks. Having met during a 2004 Denali expedition Kees and Claire were highly accomplished mountaineers and skiers that shared a love of the mountains. While vigorously pursuing challenges in the alpine environment, they also conscientiously developed the necessary skills for successful careers; Kees as a professional mountain guide and ski instructor, and Claire as a physical therapist. Kees’ talent for embracing challenge with enthusiasm inspired many. He overcame obstacles through diligent preparation and in doing so instilled confidence in strangers, clients and friends alike. Kees shared his passion for the alpine environment with others and helped many experience the joys of successful mountain adventures.

 Kees and Claire Descending the Kahiltna Glacier

Denali National Park

Photo by Andre Charland

Earlier in his career, Kees had injured his knee while working as a heli-ski guide in Alaska. He was able to finish the season on an injured knee, however his condition deteriorated to the point that reconstructive surgery was required to continue guiding. Kees elected to have his surgery performed at the Steadman Clinic specifically for their history of enabling athletes to return to and even prolong their careers. Kees’ surgery was successful and after diligent reconditioning he returned to guiding. 

 Kees Leading The Way

Photo by Andre Charland

While grateful to return to the mountains, Kees was conscious that many of his colleagues lacked the financial resources to benefit from the same opportunity. He was keenly aware surgical treatment is a significant financial burden to many mountain professionals who rely on a healthy body. Kees genuinely regretted that the outstanding treatment he received at the Steadman Clinic was not available to others with similar career aspirations and experiences. In his honor, The Kees Brenninkmeyer Foundation has been established to assist alpine guides, patrollers, or instructors who require surgery in order to continue their careers. The foundation accepts candidates seeking treatment at the Steadman Clinic who have demonstrated financial need.

I, like Kees, am grateful to have access to the world-class orthopedic surgeons, financial assistance, and friends and family to care for me afterward. Thanks to The Steadman Clinic, The Kees Brenninkmeyer Foundation, Teton Hand Therapy and my wife I now have an elbow that is working better than it has in thirty-six years. Within the next month I will be returning to the mountains to ski, climb, guide, and live. Life is Therapy — no complaining and no excuses.

Enjoying an Easy Post Surgery Ski Tour

Photo by Amy McCarthy

"Motion is Life" 

- Jim Kanzler