<img style="float: right;" src="https://opedge.com/Content/OldArticles/images/2007-11_09/09-01.jpg" hspace="4" vspace="4" /> On a near perfect summer day in the extreme-sports playground of Lake Tahoe, California, 22-year-old Ben Quinn was found screaming for help in a vineyard. A morning of skydiving with a friend ended in tragedy after a miscommunication between the two resulted in a deadly accident that left Quinn battling to recover. Three years later, Quinn, of Bellingham, Washington, speaks candidly about overcoming the emotional and physical pain of his accident and once again competing in his favorite sports. Growing up in the quaint town of Loomis, California, less than an hour from San Francisco Bay and Lake Tahoe, afforded Quinn nearly endless sporting opportunities. "I did whatever I could," he says. "You can do a lot of different things there and have very expensive hobbies, so I had to narrow down my sports." He focused his youthful energy (and financial resources) on skydiving and wakeboarding, while he worked as a stonemason in Lake Tahoe, until his skydiving accident in 2004. "When I opened my parachute, my buddy was right above me in a free fall," Quinn says. "He was hit by my canopy going over 120 mph, and he died on impact." The mid-air collision shattered Quinn's ankle, blew out his knee, and resulted in extensive nerve damage. With his body in complete shock and his vision fading to black, Quinn knew he was in trouble and desperately tried to stay calm as he focused on his landing area, just visible from miles above. "I knew I was really hurt," he says. "I remembered from my lifeguard training that any movement could result in paralysis, so I tried to stay very still and keep my eyes wide open." After flying over power lines and a freeway, Quinn landed in a vineyard, where witnesses ran to his aid. Quinn's injuries were severe, and doctors in the trauma unit kept him in an induced coma for a week and a half to save his life. His three months at the University of California, Davis, Medical Center, and Madrona Medical Center, Bellingham, Washington, were peppered with surgeries; he underwent 30-40 operations to try to save his left leg and repair the damages to his battered body. "I don't even know how many surgeries I had because there were so many that I lost count. My insurance company knew me by name; I was no longer just a number," he jokes before turning serious. "When my leg repeatedly became infected, my doctors told me it would be better to amputate, but I was young and I didn't want to lose my leg." <img class="" style="float: right;" src="https://opedge.com/Content/OldArticles/images/2007-11_09/09-02.jpg" width="269" height="232" hspace="4" vspace="4" /> When his leg began to deteriorate, Quinn made the difficult decision to have it amputated below the knee and ended up wishing he had done it sooner. "It's hard to see at the time how life can get back to normal after an amputation," he says. "Amputees came in and talked to me about how they can do everything they used to do. It took lots of visits before I finally believed that could be possible. Once they started talking about competing with able-bodied people, I started listening more." As it turned out, competition would play a major role in Quinn's recovery. Though he lost 40 pounds while in the hospital, Quinn eagerly began sport rehabilitation. "Rehab was a series of baby steps. Learning to [walk] using a prosthesis was like learning to ride a bike with training wheels. I had someone show me how to do it, started on parallel bars, then used crutches, then a cane. Now I can run and do every sport I did before my accident," he says. "It has been a long road, but it's important to see an end to the road and keep a positive attitude about it." As Quinn became more proficient with his prosthetic leg, and more familiar with the technological advances and variety of prosthetic options, he grew more involved with the sports he loved before his accident. Through a process of trial and error, along with good communication with his prosthetist, Quinn now successfully competes in extreme sports. "It was a process of learning how to use my equipment," he says. "The thing I liked about my prosthetist is he never said that I would never be able to do something I wanted to try. He just said, Let's see what we can do so you'll be able to do that.' Then it was a matter of problem solving together." Quinn's prosthetist, Tom Broselle, CPO, Cornerstone Prosthetics in Bellingham, further encouraged him by sponsoring his trip to the O&P Extremity Games held last July in Orlando, Florida. "I know how much he wanted to compete in the Extremity Games," says Broselle. "He's a very competitive guy. I told him I'd sponsor him as long as he didn't mind if I went along." In its second year, the Extremity Games, sponsored by College Park Industries, Fraser, Michigan, hosted more than 150 athletes with limb loss or limb difference who competed in a variety of extreme-style sporting events. "The Extremity Games are the only structured competition for these types of extreme sports for amputees," explains Broselle. "I knew it would be good for Ben because he's young and active, but I think most of my patients could benefit from some competition because it's such a great motivation for them. Whether able-bodied or an amputee, anyone will be inspired when they see these athletes compete." <img class="" style="float: right;" src="https://opedge.com/Content/OldArticles/images/2007-11_09/09-03.jpg" width="288" height="191" hspace="4" vspace="4" /> To adapt Quinn's prosthetic leg for wakeboarding, Broselle shaped the leg to fit over Quinn's knee for more stability, and Quinn found that using duct tape was a great way to keep water out of his liner. "The Extremity Games are highly motivating&. Standing on the board is a release for me; it clears my head, relaxes me," says Quinn, who took home first place in the recreational wakeboarding competition. "The great thing about going to an event like this is meeting other amputees from around the world and learning from them. We got some great ideas from other people there about equipment, bindings, and prosthetic design." As soon as he regained his strength after the skydiving accident, friends and family began asking Quinn when he would "jump" again. "I never ruled it out," he says. "I understood that I could get seriously injured doing any sport, or driving on the freeway for that matter, and I didn't want to live in fear. My accident was a result of poor communication, not equipment failure, and that helped me to want to try it again. "My first jump didn't go that well," he laughs. "My liner filled up with air and I had to take my leg off in mid-air, pull my canopy with one arm, and land with one leg. I started using duct tape after that!" Maintaining a sense of humor, Quinn is a remarkable inspiration and athlete in the face of great adversity. "I've kept a positive attitude about the whole process of recovery, and I have a great prosthetist," he says. "The relationship between the prosthetist and patient is very important. A good prosthetist helps you progress and do everything you want. They don't close any doors - they open them." <i>Sherry Metzger, MS, is a freelance writer with degrees in anatomy and neurobiology. She is based in Westminster, Colorado, and can be reached at </i><a href="mailto:sherry@opedge.com"><i>sherry@opedge.com</i></a>
<img style="float: right;" src="https://opedge.com/Content/OldArticles/images/2007-11_09/09-01.jpg" hspace="4" vspace="4" /> On a near perfect summer day in the extreme-sports playground of Lake Tahoe, California, 22-year-old Ben Quinn was found screaming for help in a vineyard. A morning of skydiving with a friend ended in tragedy after a miscommunication between the two resulted in a deadly accident that left Quinn battling to recover. Three years later, Quinn, of Bellingham, Washington, speaks candidly about overcoming the emotional and physical pain of his accident and once again competing in his favorite sports. Growing up in the quaint town of Loomis, California, less than an hour from San Francisco Bay and Lake Tahoe, afforded Quinn nearly endless sporting opportunities. "I did whatever I could," he says. "You can do a lot of different things there and have very expensive hobbies, so I had to narrow down my sports." He focused his youthful energy (and financial resources) on skydiving and wakeboarding, while he worked as a stonemason in Lake Tahoe, until his skydiving accident in 2004. "When I opened my parachute, my buddy was right above me in a free fall," Quinn says. "He was hit by my canopy going over 120 mph, and he died on impact." The mid-air collision shattered Quinn's ankle, blew out his knee, and resulted in extensive nerve damage. With his body in complete shock and his vision fading to black, Quinn knew he was in trouble and desperately tried to stay calm as he focused on his landing area, just visible from miles above. "I knew I was really hurt," he says. "I remembered from my lifeguard training that any movement could result in paralysis, so I tried to stay very still and keep my eyes wide open." After flying over power lines and a freeway, Quinn landed in a vineyard, where witnesses ran to his aid. Quinn's injuries were severe, and doctors in the trauma unit kept him in an induced coma for a week and a half to save his life. His three months at the University of California, Davis, Medical Center, and Madrona Medical Center, Bellingham, Washington, were peppered with surgeries; he underwent 30-40 operations to try to save his left leg and repair the damages to his battered body. "I don't even know how many surgeries I had because there were so many that I lost count. My insurance company knew me by name; I was no longer just a number," he jokes before turning serious. "When my leg repeatedly became infected, my doctors told me it would be better to amputate, but I was young and I didn't want to lose my leg." <img class="" style="float: right;" src="https://opedge.com/Content/OldArticles/images/2007-11_09/09-02.jpg" width="269" height="232" hspace="4" vspace="4" /> When his leg began to deteriorate, Quinn made the difficult decision to have it amputated below the knee and ended up wishing he had done it sooner. "It's hard to see at the time how life can get back to normal after an amputation," he says. "Amputees came in and talked to me about how they can do everything they used to do. It took lots of visits before I finally believed that could be possible. Once they started talking about competing with able-bodied people, I started listening more." As it turned out, competition would play a major role in Quinn's recovery. Though he lost 40 pounds while in the hospital, Quinn eagerly began sport rehabilitation. "Rehab was a series of baby steps. Learning to [walk] using a prosthesis was like learning to ride a bike with training wheels. I had someone show me how to do it, started on parallel bars, then used crutches, then a cane. Now I can run and do every sport I did before my accident," he says. "It has been a long road, but it's important to see an end to the road and keep a positive attitude about it." As Quinn became more proficient with his prosthetic leg, and more familiar with the technological advances and variety of prosthetic options, he grew more involved with the sports he loved before his accident. Through a process of trial and error, along with good communication with his prosthetist, Quinn now successfully competes in extreme sports. "It was a process of learning how to use my equipment," he says. "The thing I liked about my prosthetist is he never said that I would never be able to do something I wanted to try. He just said, Let's see what we can do so you'll be able to do that.' Then it was a matter of problem solving together." Quinn's prosthetist, Tom Broselle, CPO, Cornerstone Prosthetics in Bellingham, further encouraged him by sponsoring his trip to the O&P Extremity Games held last July in Orlando, Florida. "I know how much he wanted to compete in the Extremity Games," says Broselle. "He's a very competitive guy. I told him I'd sponsor him as long as he didn't mind if I went along." In its second year, the Extremity Games, sponsored by College Park Industries, Fraser, Michigan, hosted more than 150 athletes with limb loss or limb difference who competed in a variety of extreme-style sporting events. "The Extremity Games are the only structured competition for these types of extreme sports for amputees," explains Broselle. "I knew it would be good for Ben because he's young and active, but I think most of my patients could benefit from some competition because it's such a great motivation for them. Whether able-bodied or an amputee, anyone will be inspired when they see these athletes compete." <img class="" style="float: right;" src="https://opedge.com/Content/OldArticles/images/2007-11_09/09-03.jpg" width="288" height="191" hspace="4" vspace="4" /> To adapt Quinn's prosthetic leg for wakeboarding, Broselle shaped the leg to fit over Quinn's knee for more stability, and Quinn found that using duct tape was a great way to keep water out of his liner. "The Extremity Games are highly motivating&. Standing on the board is a release for me; it clears my head, relaxes me," says Quinn, who took home first place in the recreational wakeboarding competition. "The great thing about going to an event like this is meeting other amputees from around the world and learning from them. We got some great ideas from other people there about equipment, bindings, and prosthetic design." As soon as he regained his strength after the skydiving accident, friends and family began asking Quinn when he would "jump" again. "I never ruled it out," he says. "I understood that I could get seriously injured doing any sport, or driving on the freeway for that matter, and I didn't want to live in fear. My accident was a result of poor communication, not equipment failure, and that helped me to want to try it again. "My first jump didn't go that well," he laughs. "My liner filled up with air and I had to take my leg off in mid-air, pull my canopy with one arm, and land with one leg. I started using duct tape after that!" Maintaining a sense of humor, Quinn is a remarkable inspiration and athlete in the face of great adversity. "I've kept a positive attitude about the whole process of recovery, and I have a great prosthetist," he says. "The relationship between the prosthetist and patient is very important. A good prosthetist helps you progress and do everything you want. They don't close any doors - they open them." <i>Sherry Metzger, MS, is a freelance writer with degrees in anatomy and neurobiology. She is based in Westminster, Colorado, and can be reached at </i><a href="mailto:sherry@opedge.com"><i>sherry@opedge.com</i></a>