As they had done so many times before, firearm enthusiasts Jennifer Pierson and her husband, Patrick were enjoying late-afternoon target practice with some family friends on their rural Wyoming property last August.
“Patrick’s a retired police officer, so he’s the gun person. When I had met him, I had never shot anything or had any desire,” Jennifer says. “We lived in New York, so it wasn’t like it was accessible. And he started getting me into it, teaching me how to shoot, what to do, what’s right, what’s wrong. He got me my own pistols and revolver. We have 40 acres outside Moorcroft, so we have a shooting range. And we go out there with all of our guests.”
Jennifer, a professional photographer, had set up some distance behind and to the left of a visiting friend to capture video as the friend tried her hand at a replica of an old west-style, .45-caliber Colt revolver. The first shot went off without issue. When the friend pulled the trigger to fire a second round, however, the cartridge discharged erroneously, causing an explosion that sent the housing of the revolver’s cylinder on an improbable backwards and sideways trajectory — and directly through the inner portion of Jennifer’s left calf muscle. “All of a sudden I felt burning, and I was like, ‘Ow, ow, ow.’ I look down and there’s just blood everywhere. So I start saying, ‘Babe, I’m shot. I’m shot,’ because in my head, my friend took the shot and I got hit.”
Improbably, Jennifer had the presence of mind to keep recording, even as blood gushed from her leg. She has since watched the recording several times. “I’m bleeding bad, like arterial blood. Thinking, ‘I’m about to bleed out here.’ But I was perfectly calm, saying, ‘I just need a chair and towel,’” she recalls. The group contacted emergency services and Patrick applied a makeshift tourniquet. Due to their rural location, however, a tense wait ensued. “The response time is usually half an hour. We have a town called Pine Haven — it’s not far from us. They got a full EMS outfit, and they got to us within like 10-15 minutes.”
Initially, Jennifer was driven to Sundance, where staff evaluated her injury and quickly determined that they were ill-equipped to adequately care for Jennifer’s wound. There was concern that she may lose her leg, so Life Flight was summoned to get Jennifer to Rapid City Hospital as soon as possible. “The doctors told me that if the metal hit anywhere in, like, my upper thigh up, I’d be dead. It would have killed me. So if it had to hit my calf, I’m okay with that. Because it could have been so much worse.”
Arriving at Rapid City Hospital via helicopter, Jennifer underwent emergency surgery. “The hole was big, and that’s why they couldn’t close it,” Jennifer recalls. “There was nothing there to close. And it was so deep, it was down to the bone. There were chunks (of flesh and viscera) on the ground and in my jeans. And the surgeon’s like, ‘We need to get in there and clean the wound up.’” Even though the damage was extensive, Jennifer’s leg was saved and the prognosis was fairly positive, all things considered. “I lost a vein, and they cauterized a bunch of arteries and stuff like that, and just cleaned up all the ragged edges.”
The doctors fit the wound with a vacuum-assisted closure device and discharged a bandaged and traumatized Jennifer after just two days in the hospital. However, even with the wound vacuum sucking gunk from her calf to help it heal from the inside out, Jennifer’s injury was going to require frequent attention. It would need to be cleaned and redressed frequently to prevent infection.
After three unsatisfactory — and painful — visits for treatments elsewhere, Jennifer sought out a second option, and set an appointment with Wound and Ostomy Care at Spearfish Hospital.
“The first day in Spearfish was life-changing the way it was so different. It was a relaxed attitude — they were concerned with my leg — but it was, like, friendly, and sterile,” Jennifer recalls, with a laugh. “And so we decided that was where we’re going to be. It was three days a week for the first eight weeks.”
Ostomy care nurses Stefani Gillette, RN, Danielle Sauer, RN, Marie Subiate, RN and Jessie Young, RN, and Patient Access Specialist Patty Schulz worked together to provide a level of care that went beyond mere remedy. For Jennifer, it felt personalized. For example, the nurses often asked about Jeniffer’s weekend plans, then remembered what they were and followed up to see how things went at the next appointment. “They’re good people. I really adored them. And it just reinforced that this is the only place I’m going to go,” says Jennifer.
Having committed herself to Spearfish Wound Care, Jennifer became a familiar figure at the clinic. “I got to know these people, and I was sad when it was over, partially because I never thought I’d get to this point of it being over, but partially because these people are now family.”
So touched by the nurses and staff at Spearfish Wound Care was Jennifer that when the waiting room was being repainted and the topic of decor came up, Jennifer offered some prints of her photography to be displayed on the walls. The staff at Wound Care readily accepted and many examples of Jennifer’s landscape and nature works now adorn the walls at the clinic. “I think I ended up bringing in maybe 10, 30 by 50 prints and then smaller ones of varying pictures and sizes and everything. And they told me how it brightened up their room and their day just seeing them.”
By mid-November, Jennifer had completed her last treatment and had recovered remarkably well. “Other than the lack of calf strength, it’s fine. There’s still a pretty big divot. It’s always going to be a divot. It looks like something took a bite out of my leg. The doctors said it might fill in a little bit, but you can’t replace the tissue that was in there,” she says. However, Jennifer found that working with the nurses at wound care helped heal more than her injury, it healed her spirit. And though Jennifer went through as harrowing an experience as imaginable, it underscores how happenstance can bring people together in unexpected ways and how unfortunate circumstances can create lasting, meaningful and healing bonds.
Story: Kory Lanphear