2 Minutes Does Make a Difference

I woke up today with the idea to journal my dreams because they're always strange. Probably resulting from lack of sleep and the return of hot/spicy foods into my diet. For those who don't know, I LOVE Tapatio, so much that I would buy the 1 gallon handle from Smart and Final. But then another thought interrupted me, the thought of knowing that it's been 1 year since this all started. The same birthday celebration was on again and I had unexpected feelings of sadness and a never ending reality check. I would've been on my way to the gathering, but now I can't even go down the street without the fear of falling out of my wheelchair....again.

About 2-3 weeks before the accident happened I was on my usual ride home. The 750 was a great ride down Ventura Blvd. Quick, a third of the stops and usually a quiet ride. For some reason I was feeling low, what I had been experiencing for about 6 months was getting under my skin. I felt tired, slightly depressed, and as if my jail sentence was being served publicly. I prayed some fatal prayers that day on the bus. I prayed sincerely for patience, a change in my life, and for a purpose and then I sealed the deal by praying it in Jesus' name. Really.

On Christmas Day I wanted to get to work as early as possible so that I could spend the evening with my family. I didn't want to risk driving to the Orange Line fearing I'd get arrested for driving w/out a license. Wouldn't that be a great gift? I left home 2 minutes early thinking I'd stroll up to the bus instead of walking at the usual hurried pace. There was a slight drizzle so I took out my umbrella. I approached Reseda where I usually crossed and noticed that there was one car on the road heading North. I crossed the street knowing I had enough time to avoid the car, but I wasn't counting on the fact that the driver would cross 6 lanes over to the sidewalk where I was. I took the last jump to get on to the sidewalk and before I knew it I had been hit by the car and thrown about 35 feet. There was no pain, just spinning in the air. Then a second thud, I don't know if it was from the car again or from ricocheting off of a stationary object. I landed on my back and quickly oriented myself as to which way I was laying. Unable to move, I used my hands to feel the area around and as I did, I thought I had found my back pack, but the more I felt, the quicker I realized that it was my leg. I was paralyzed from the waist down, but then an even greater fear set in, the fear of not being found. I realized that the driver had stopped long enough to look at me, but then left. Great, a hit-and-run. The driver had hit me so hard that the front bumper and one headlight had dislodged themselves from the car.

It was 5:16 a.m. on Christmas Day and everyone was asleep. I screamed for a few minutes and like an angel, a man appeared. He calmly asked me what had happened and I was lucid enough to beg him to call 911 and my mom. He didn't have a phone but quickly found two people who did. Fortunately the fire station was half a block down as was the police station. The only thing I remember from that morning was the look on my mother's face painfully screwed up in tears, barely able to stand and about to collapse in the rain and my brother rushing to my side, kissing me on the forehead, assuring me I would be o.k. and that he was there. It's never easy watching your family fall apart. Not knowing anything at that moment, I was kind of at peace thinking that panicking wouldn't help, but I knew that my life was changed forever. An answered prayer? An answered prayer.

Due to the holidays, the neurosurgeon that would save my life was on vacation. I waited about 4 days in a Rotorest bed disdainfully nicknamed it the rotisserie bed. It stabilized a spinal injury patient while rocking them side to side in order to prevent pressure sores on the back. The synthetic material made it hot, the inexperienced nurses made it painfully unbearable to stay in, and my hair insulated my head, making me even hotter and crankier. I eventually wore my nurse down and got her to chop my hair off. The best chop job I must say though. But THANK GOD for my friends and family. They seem to come non-stop for about two weeks. That is the only way I survived. The ones who stayed overnight to cool me down from fevers and the ones who distracted me with their kindness and thoughtful gifts during the daytime.

So here's the damage. I was the victim of a hit and run. A driver was either asleep or drunk and hit me while I was crossing the street to get to the train. I suffered a compound fracture to my T10 while my T9 was pushed forward. The procedures performed over a period of 3 surgeries included a thoracic spine corpectomy, discectomy & fusion, a thoracotomy and a partial rib resection. They used a metal cage, plate, screws, human bone and 2 chest tubes. After spending 3 months in Rehab with therapy 6 days/week, the only pain I have now is in my back and right lung. It's manageable. Up until now, the driver hasn't been caught and the case is getting colder as time passes, but the city council has approved a $50,000 reward. I've made the choice to look forward from this point on because the present and the future is where my happiness awaits. Your visits, prayers, phone calls, and well wishes made it all possible for me to endure as long as I did because I honestly wasn't sure if I would have survived the things to come. I can say that the spectrum of my life has changed and although I'm paralyzed from the waist down I am feeling a tiny bit more every day. Yeah! I'm still whole as a person in mind and in spirit. I still have funny jokes, a passion for life and still laugh a lot. I don't laugh as hard....yet. I'm working on that. I'm home now and am adjusting slowly. My brace is off and my balance is that of a 6 month old learning how to sit up. I am a jelly bean. lol. I will be continuing rehab in an out patient setting.

A good friend told me, "It's as if angels laid you down" and I believe him. No head trauma or loss of consciousness, no other broken bones, no internal organ damage, no open wounds, and I was thrown opposed to being trampled. I gotta count my blessings.

That's the whole story.
If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.