Risk

Bro-in-law Rob and his wife Sabrina

   My brother-in-law, Rob, became a paraplegic in October of 2008. This happened a a result of a mountain biking accident near his home in Oakville, Ontario. He'd been biking with a friend in a wooded park set up especially for mountain bikers and at one point the two of them came across a new ramp that had been installed. They briefly pondered jumping the ramp, then decided against it and rode around it. Rob then decided 'what the heck, why not give it a go', went back and jumped the ramp. Catastrophically, he landed on his front tire, his body pitched over the bike, and he landed in such a way that his back was broken. Now he is paralyzed from the waist down.

   Since that day, his has been an amazing story. His indomitable spirit has enabled him to overcome many obstacles, both the physical and the emotional, and his support circle has been utterly astounding. When he became healthy enough, he threw himself back into the sporting world he'd always loved--he hand-biked, motorbiked, skied, and raced. He has accomplished so much, in such a short period of time.
   Obviously, unless you've been in the same situation yourself, it is almost impossible to know how it feels to have your life so dramatically altered, so suddenly. Rob has said that, even as he was lying in the forest immediately after the accident, the question ran through his head, "How am I going to dance with my daughters at their weddings?" He knows now that he will, by hook or by crook, but at the time every single hope, dream and aspiration must have seemed to have totally vanished. He reacted well. Not all of us would have.

   I think of Rob often, hard not to. And as I do so, I agonizingly go back to the moment he decided to jump that ramp. By his own telling, his initial reaction was to simply avoid the unknown and go around it, which he did. But then he decided to go back. At this point, he made some decision around risk. He knew what his riding capabilities were, he was familiar with the terrain, and he'd done all sorts of ramps before. I assume he assessed the risk and decided to proceed. The unthinkable followed. Had he incorrectly made the risk assessment? Hard to tell. He said that the thought ran through his head that if somehow or other this jump is not successful than some broken bones might be in order (given his active lifestyle, broken body parts were not unusual) but that did not sway him from his decision. In assessing the risk, I don't know if I could be paralyzed or I could be killed entered the equation. If even one nagging little suspicion of this fluttered about in the back of his consciousness. If it did, it was discounted. And rightly so...? Perhaps. And now, what about all the "what if's" and the "if only's". We who know Rob I'm sure drive ourselves crazy with these questions. His life could have stayed the same if he'd just kept on riding past the ramp! If we are haunted by this then how much more so must he be?
   How many of us actually consider the worst-case scenario when assessing risk? Not many of us, I suspect. If we did we would constantly be at least emotionally paralyzed, if nothing else. How big of a risk is it to set off in your car each morning, after all? Think of it, you're doing 60 km/h in one direction, the driver coming at you is doing 60 km/h, that means you're passing within about five feet of  a two-ton steel vehicle at 120 km/h probably thousands of times a day! And those drivers passing by you are prone to distraction, disease, old age, carelessness, and weather considerations. How safe does that sound, from a risk standpoint? Because we get up every morning, go to work and return home safely and have been doing this for years the risk seems minimal. And then the accident happens and the procedure you go about to assess risk changes, sometimes monumentally. In an earlier blog I touched on this, the process of being involved in an accident and how it affects subsequent driving decisions. I'm not sure, though, that my driving then gets better; suddenly I am more tentative, and this for, a driver, is not always a good thing either. My risk assessment skills are skewed and the longer they stay skewed, the more likely I am to be involved with poor risk decisions.
   Back to Rob for a moment. As I mentioned before, he is a paraplegic. He does, however, continue to live a very full life. He is probably one of the most active and adventurous people I know. He never shrinks from challenges. Occasionally, this involves different forms of "risky" sports eg. the afore-mentioned motorbiking, skiing, etc. I find myself wondering what type of risk assessment he uses now. Currently, he depends almost solely on his upper body strength (and his upper body has become a thing of amazement) but what happens if he breaks an arm? This would be bad enough for any able-bodied person but when your mobility depends on your arms where does a broken one put you? I asked him this once. To paraphrase somewhat, he had decided that he was not going to allow the paraplegia to alter the essential person he'd always been. He would not allow himself to become hostage to his physical condition. I find this scary and admirable at the same time. How many of us refuse to "get back on the horse"? And then, how many of us force ourselves to?
   Horrible news today. I've been working on this blog in bits and pieces for over two days now. This morning, reading the paper, I learned that one of the young friends of my sons was killed in a cycling accident. All of this at the same time I've been going on and on about risk. I know none of the details of the accident but how far away from actually dying could this young man's thoughts have been as he set out on his bike that day? I'm sure it never entered his mind as a possible eventuality and I'm just as sure that it shouldn't have.
   I tell my wife I love her several times a day. Saying hello, saying goodbye and many times in between. We are almost fanatical about waving to each other and flashing the "I love you" sign as we part company. In some small way, to me at least (and very subconsciously), this a form of risk management. In such an uncertain world I will have wanted "I love you" to have been one of the things she remembered the most. I would not want to risk it otherwise.
   We do risky things. I play a lot of ball hockey and there is risk. I drive a lot and there is risk. The bottom step of my porch is risky. The tap water seems safe. As does the food from the grocery store. I assume that I have at least, deep in my mind's recesses, made a risk assessment around most things in my life and have avoided what seem to be the riskiest. Perhaps I've missed out on some things. Perhaps skydiving might have changed my whole outlook on life, or maybe bungee-jumping, hang-gliding, the stock market. I may never know.
   I just sat back and tried to determine what the riskiest thing I'd ever done was. Actually, it wasn't hard. Telling my wife I loved her the first time was by far the riskiest thing I've ever done. I guess I have to say my risk management skills are fine!