After Breaking My Back I Woke Up To The Desire To Be Better Every Day
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Health and Wellness

After Breaking My Back I Woke Up To The Desire To Be Better Every Day

Just bear with me on this one.

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After Breaking My Back I Woke Up To The Desire To Be Better Every Day
American Journal of Neurology

Sometimes in life, we make dumb decisions. Other times, we make decisions so profoundly stupid that we can't actually find words to justify them. On October 14th, I made a decision that falls into the latter category.

A friend of mine was locked out of his apartment, and I decided climbing up the three-story building to try to open the balcony door and let him in was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. I climbed up, traversed across the ledge leading to the balcony, and right as I touched the balcony railing, Newton's law of gravity reared it's ugly head, and down I went.

One second I was 30+ feet up in the air, the next I was on my back staring at the stars, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened. Luckily, shock kicked in pretty quickly, and I remember being in pretty good spirits about the whole thing. However, my ankle was about as supportive as a bag of yogurt, and as my friends helped me up into a car so that I could go to the hospital, it felt like parts of my spine were moving independently of one another.

On the way to the hospital, I was aware of a tingling in my lower extremities, and the reality of what had just happened began to sink in. I had just broken my back.

As I laid in the ER waiting on results from a series of scans of my back and foot, a flurry of emotions overwhelmed me. I experienced relief, fear, joy, and dread simultaneously.

The worst case scenario began to creep into my mind.

My whole life, my biggest fear had been paralysis. The thought of being trapped in my own body seemed a fate worse than death, and with each passing second, the possibility became more real. I was met with visions of being confined to an electric wheelchair while my legs withered away to atrophied sticks. I thought about the implications it would have for my mother, who would have to drop her life to take care of me. My horizons for a career as a journalist could be limited to being nothing more than a disability hire for a tax credit. Until that point, I had been the captain of a perfect ship, but there was a very real possibility that I had ended that in an instant.

I began to think of all the things I'd hoped to accomplish, the places I'd hoped to go, and all the things I loved to do. All of them were in jeopardy, and all I could do was sit and wait with these increasingly grim thoughts. I began to sorry for myself, knowing full well that I may never have the opportunity to achieve any of them.

But the more I thought, the more I realized I hadn't really been doing much to accomplish these goals. I'd never appreciated how many hours there were in a day, and that there had never been anything stopping me from going and making my mark.

In that moment, I was ashamed. I was ashamed of the way that I always put things off "for tomorrow," and all the days I opted to stay in bed or avoid responsibility. I was angry at how I'd let myself go physically, and let my academics fall by the wayside.

For the first time in a long time, I had clarity.

I saw myself as I was - my ego as crippled as my body and was deeply disappointed. I realized that if I didn't make a change, that no matter what my prognosis may be, I was never going to amount to much. I made a promise to myself, that no matter what the outcome was, I was going to appreciate whatever it was I had left and make the best of it. Otherwise, my life was going to be a dark, miserable place, and I refused to let that happen.

As this pact took form, the doctor came in with my results. She told me that my ankle was going to need a complete reconstructive surgery involving screws and plates, and the damage was focused my L3 vertebrae but that my spine was miraculously intact. It was likely that I'd make a full recovery in a few months. She told me that my case was anomalous and that in most cases like mine, the prognosis was not usually as optimistic. From a fall of that height, the spine usually buckles in on itself and the spinal cord severs, and many times, people don't survive the fall. Yet there I was. I was taken to the hospital and prepped for surgery.

A flood of relief washed over me, and despite never being particularly religious, I shot a heartfelt thank you out to the powers that be. It hit me that one day I would be able to have a family. That I'd again feel that torturous-but-welcome pain after a rigorous leg day. That I'd hike up a mountain again. That I'd stub my toe. The little things were just as special as the big things, and I appreciated every single one of them in a way I never had before.

The doctors explained that I had a long road ahead of me. I would be on a month of sustained bedrest, unable to move to do even the most basic of tasks. For the next 2-3 months I would have to wear a back brace and a boot, and have a demanding daily physical therapy regimen. I would eventually have to learn to walk again, first with a walker, then crutches. I would be in constant pain that no amount of painkillers fix. I knew I had an arduous recovery, but I knew it was all possible.

For the first time in a long time, I was truly driven. I woke up every morning and pushed through the pain. I decided that it was time to stop talking about writing and start doing it. I became a contributor to Odyssey, and began actively focussing on bettering myself as a writer by forcing myself to write everyday. I stopped taking the painkillers so that I could listen to my body, and focus on pushing past certain thresholds. I forced myself to do therapy until I was drenched in sweat and seeing stars.

With all of this every day, I saw myself get a little better. I got a little stronger, the pain tore me apart a little less, and recovery seemed more and more attainable.

It's now been about a month and a half since the accident, and I was just cleared to take my back brace and leg boot off. My spine healed completely, and aside from a little soreness, it feels as good as new. My ankle is healing, and I'll be hiking in Colorado later this month.

This has been one of the most profound experiences of my entire life because it forced me to struggle, reach my limits, and find a way to continue to push forward. I came to terms with my own mortality and the fact that I wasn't really giving any part of my life a whole lot of concerted effort. Something awoke in me, and I was given perspective. I woke up every day with the intention of being more than I was yesterday, and that mindset hasn't gone away in the least.

It shouldn't have taken an event this severe to wake me up, but for the first time in my thick-headed life, I finally get it. For that, I remain grateful.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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