January 27, 2003

Having been a white water raft guide for several years, I could see the writing on the wall when it came to the tremendous lack of moisture expected for the upcoming season of 2002. I did what any practical, self-serving guide would do… I left town and headed for Oregon.

Desperate for work, I found a job rafting for an undisclosed company that I’ll refer to as Shady Outfitters. The rivers were dull (albeit scenic), the guides were second rate and the equipment was poorly maintained. It was not all that surprising, that despite my experiences driving shuttle buses in the harsh Rocky Mountain winters, I was not allowed to drive the company van for Shady Outfitters.

This particular day, it was raining lightly. The road had many hairpin turns with steep drop-offs and the driver was rummaging through his pockets while exceeding the speed limit by over 15 mph. He slipped off the right side of the narrow road while sliding around a tight corner and then quickly overcompensated to the left. I could see the empty trailer jack-knife along side us on the driver side. I felt the 15-passenger van start to roll over the trailer. I could see the other side of the road approaching fast and at an angle.

Call it chance, but for whatever reason, my safety-conscience mind allowed me to be a passenger without wearing a seat belt this day. I could see the slight burm that we were about to hit – upside down. I managed to launch myself into the back seat area. The van hit the dirt pile on the opposite side of the street completely upside down and with enough force to launch us into the air spinning. I felt like a gerbil in a wheel, constantly running with the turning vehicle.

I knew we were airborne over the edge of what ought to have been a 1,000 foot drop to the river gorge. Luckily the trees in Oregon are stout, indeed. We crashed through a few smaller ones and finally hit a strong row of older tree – sideways. Our trailer left a karate-chop mark in one of them, which I later estimated to be about 30 feet above our resting site. Miraculously, both the driver and I were seemingly uninjured.

I was the first to climb out of the window that had once been whole along the sliding door. It was then that I heard an unfamiliar noise. It took me a second or so to comprehend that one of the trees we had struck has slowly coming down upon us. I ducked back inside the van, which now resembled a crushed soda can.

The tree hit with an enormous crash and I was hesitant to move again, thinking that perhaps my luck was running out. It was then that I noticed that the entire front half of the roof of the van had clamped down upon what had once been my headrest. It occurred to me then of how violent our accident had been and of the realization that had I been wearing my seat belt, (as I still prefer to do), I would most certainly have been killed.

A loose wheel bearing reportably caused the outcome of this fiasco, but somehow I doubted it. None of it really concerned me until I felt a strange shape in my back some four months later. Workman’s Compensation had already turned my fractured hand into a “bruising episode,” and like most other raft guides I certainly did not have the funds to afford the luxury of medical insurance.

After a few days of swelling in my upper spine, I began to feel discomfort. It radiated into shooting pains all the way to my right hand. This I could deal with, but then it got worse. Five days and several months after my brush with death, I began to have trouble sleeping. I never have trouble sleeping. I found myself sitting up in bed with an elaborate pillow system and still denying my pain. I could only sleep in shifts of four hours.

I gave in and used my credit cards to see a local chiropractor that I will refer to as Dr. Poppensnap. After several visits, mechanical rolling tables, and something called the “drop-table method,” I was only feeling worse and had simply had enough. That was when a friend recommended Dr. Matt.

Right away things were different. For one, he actually seemed to care about what happened to me. Then he took a great deal of effort to make sure that I understood the procedures he was going to implement. I had never before met a doctor who treated me like a family member.

The treatments were non-invasive. I never once heard or felt my spine snap or crunch. In fact, had it not been for my immediate change in comfort level and the obvious caring nature that I had seen, I would have thought that I had been scammed. I always thought it should hurt before it got better.

When I first arrived at Colorado Spinal Care, I was unable to lie down or even lounge comfortably and I had not slept properly in over three weeks. I could not lift anything with my sore arm and I felt quite helpless and inadequate; to say nothing of sleep deprivation. In less than a month, I was back to an almost normal condition.

Although, I was unable to afford the entire recommended program as outlined by Dr. Matt. I do seem to be holding my alignment and I am back to my old antics of snowmobiling, telemark skiing and kayaking. I owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to his work and I really appreciate his knowledge and kindness.

With great sincerity,

Benjamin Powell

P.S. To this day, I have heard nothing from Workman’s Compensation!