Mr. Kutter reflects on his life after a skiing accident that left him paralyzed. While he still enjoys watching ski races, he grapples with frustration and unresolved feelings about skiing. On the day of the accident, he experienced a fall that resulted in incomplete tetraplegia, yet he remains hopeful as he undergoes rehabilitation. Despite challenges, he has made progress in regaining some mobility and continues to train his body, finding new ways to engage with nature and sports, though he deeply misses the physical activities he once enjoyed. His family’s support has been crucial in navigating this difficult journey.
The Impact of a Life-Altering Skiing Accident
Mr. Kutter, it has been nearly two years since your life changed drastically due to a skiing accident that resulted in paralysis. How has your view of skiing evolved since then?
It’s a complex situation. On one side, I still enjoy watching ski races because they captivate me. On the other hand, I harbor frustration and resentment about my accident. I haven’t yet reconciled my feelings about skiing.
Reflecting on the Day of the Accident
What transpired on that fateful day, February 3, 2023, in Scuol?
Unfortunately, I can’t recall all the details. I remember being on a downhill run when the slope turned right into a traverse through the woods.
Was anyone around to witness the fall?
No, I was skiing ahead of two friends. It wasn’t a dramatic fall; I wasn’t speeding. I likely caught an edge, twisted, and fell awkwardly on my head or neck.
This sounds like a fall that could happen to anyone. Do you believe skiing is more hazardous than we realize, or was it simply a case of extreme bad luck?
It was undoubtedly a series of unfortunate events. At the same time, we often underestimate the risks of skiing. I never imagined an accident could happen to me; I always felt secure. But my experience illustrates the powerful forces at play. Modern skis with their sidecuts can be exhilarating, but they also make it easier to lose balance. Fortunately, in most cases, accidents are rare.
For you, the outcome was different.
When I lay in the snow, unable to feel my legs, I realized something was terribly wrong.
In that moment, did you fear you might be paralyzed?
Initially, I didn’t fully comprehend the severity of my condition. I thought it might just be temporary numbness.
You suffered broken cervical vertebrae, leading to incomplete tetraplegia. What does that entail?
Tetraplegia means paralysis from the neck down, but in my case, some nerve pathways are still functional, allowing me to move my arms. Hence the term “incomplete.”
A film by SRF showcases your determination to reclaim your life, including the remarkable effort it took to learn to drink from a glass again.
Yes, the rehabilitation process was grueling; pushing my limits became essential. That remains true even today.
Are there still new skills you are learning?
Most of the learning occurred at the beginning, in the paraplegic center in Nottwil. Occasionally, I experience small improvements.
What kind of improvements?
For instance, I’ve regained better mobility in my right arm, which was not possible initially. I can also feel my trunk muscles a bit more, although the likelihood of standing up from my wheelchair remains extremely low.
Did you hold onto hope that you would stand again?
Absolutely. After the accident, I was airlifted to the cantonal hospital in Chur, where I first heard the term “incomplete tetraplegia.” The word “incomplete” offered some hope. When I arrived at Nottwil, the doctors advised that it was too early to predict anything, as my body was in shock and needed time to recover.
And then what happened?
Hope persisted as I engaged in therapy. Over time, I realized whether I was among those who saw rapid improvements or those who did not. Unfortunately, I fell into the latter group. I observed other patients regaining leg function, which was not a possibility for me. Gradually, it became apparent that I would likely not regain what I had lost.
That must have been a difficult realization.
Yes, it was indeed a tough pill to swallow.
Those without disabilities often can’t grasp the reality of being unable to move. Have you ever felt isolated or misunderstood?
No, I have not experienced that. My family, especially my wife and two daughters, have been incredibly supportive. Their unwavering support warms my heart. Now they take on many responsibilities, including cooking for me. Their primary concern is my well-being.
How long were you away from home?
I spent nine months in Nottwil initially, and when I returned, the children were simply thrilled to have me back. However, there have been many emotional moments. For instance, I had a cherished tradition of building a snowman with my younger daughter on the first snowfall. Recently, she had to go outside alone, which was painful for me.
Do you often reflect on the day of your accident?
Not frequently, but it does cross my mind occasionally. I think about how different things might be if there hadn’t been any snow or if we had opted for a coffee instead. We had discussed it since it was already late afternoon, but it was such a beautiful day that we wanted to squeeze in one last run. Skiing was a major part of my life and my enjoyment of life.
What did skiing mean to you?
I have always cherished being outdoors and connecting with nature. Weather conditions never deterred me; I loved the snow, the sensation of carving turns, the thrill of speed, and the social aspect of skiing. It was a source of relaxation and an escape from daily routines.
What role did sports play in your life?
Sports were significant. I played wing for HC Wädenswil in handball and always sought active vacations with my family. We frequently hiked, cycled, had barbecues, camped in mountain huts, swam, and skied. While these activities may seem ordinary, they were profoundly meaningful to our family life. Now, I find it challenging to partake in any of those activities.
Has your access to nature diminished completely?
Not entirely; there are still opportunities, such as adaptive wheelchairs that enable movement on rugged terrain. It’s a matter of fighting to reclaim those experiences.
Can you still engage in sports in different ways?
Yes, I continue to train my body through physiotherapy and strength training. The essence remains the same: pushing my limits to enhance endurance, flexibility, and strength.
How do you approach your training?
I use tools like weight cuffs to strengthen my biceps and other muscle groups.
After a rigorous therapy session, do you experience a similar sensation to when you used to exercise?
Yes, after a tough workout, my body feels akin to how it used to feel post-jogging. The movement brings satisfaction and fatigue, but I miss the euphoric feelings I experienced after a run in the woods.
Do you still have a positive view of your body?
That’s