Seconds Could Change Everything

It all began a year ago. My life changed when I went home for my fall break of 2010. I planned to go to Thibodaux to have some R&R with my parents. My dad had originally asked me if I wanted to go fishing on Monday, October 18, but after having a very busy weekend, we decided to just hang out at home. We had a great morning. We went to the gym together and did some things around the yard. At around 2:30 PM, my dad asked me to take the four wheeler out for a long ride since my brother was away at school and was not home to ride it anymore. Without any hesitation, I hopped on the four wheeler to back it out of the garage. Before I left, my dad told me to bring my cell phone with me in case it breaks down and to watch out for ditches because a lot of the ruts and roots were overgrown by tall weeds.

Our neighborhood is surrounded by cane fields that turn into woods as you follow the dirt trails further and further out. Because I have been riding the four wheeler since I was little, I know the trails like the back of my hand, so I am very comfortable riding alone. As I was on my second lap around this curvy and bumpy trail that made a huge box around the outside of the woods, I sped up because I love going fast. Feeling a rush of wind on my face and being in the middle of no where gave me a sense of freedom.
Flying along the dirt road, I saw what looked like a rabbit dash right in front of me and into the bush. As I turned my head slightly to see the furry creature, it was too late. I hit a deep ditch which had what seemed to be bridge that was simply a piece wood laid across the hole that was placed particularly for recreational vehicles to cross. I missed the bridge. It all happened so fast that I literally watched my life flash before my eyes. I felt the four wheeler go up to do a flip, and I flew off the side. Putting my right arm out to catch myself, I hit the ground so hard at such a fast speed that I slid a few feet in the mud. I heard the crash of the four wheeler then my mind went blank.

Laying there for a few seconds, I had this moment that I did not know where I was or what was going on. It felt like a dream. But when I opened my eyes, I looked straight up and saw a circle of blue sky that was surrounded by the tall, red, green, and yellow trees. I felt a rush of pain creep up that hurt so bad that I was afraid to move because I did not know where it was coming from. I picked my head up and saw my wrist and fingers were bent. I could see it was broken because the bones were bulging out their normal place and almost breaking the surface of my skin. I was in so much pain that I felt numb. It was a feeling as if you jumped in ice cold water and you felt pins going into your body until the pain was so monotonous that your body just goes numb. I tried not to freak out because I knew I had my phone but I could feel it was not bulging out of the rim of my shorts where I had tucked it away.

I tried to sit up, but it was painful and felt like there was a weight holding me back. I had blood and mud running along the right side of my body from my ankle up my entire leg all the way up to my cheek. It looked like brush-burn from sliding along the ground upon impact. As I forced myself in somewhat of a sitting position, I saw that the four wheeler had landed about an arm length away from me. Realizing how much worse off I could have been if the vehicle would have landed on me, I knew a guardian angel was with me. Moving only my painless eyes, I somehow caught sight of my phone on the other side of the trail sticking out of the mud. Immediately, my thoughts and feelings were running wild. I knew if I moved, I risked hurting myself even worse. On the other hand, if I just stayed there, my parents would not have thought to come look for me until at least another hour would have past because they would have assumed I had stopped to visit with neighbors as I usually did when I was just hanging around the neighborhood. Also, since it was mid-fall, the days were getting shorter, so it would be dark earlier, which would make it harder for anyone to find me. As scared as I was, I made the decision that I needed to get to my phone. It was my right side that hurt the most, so I dragged myself with my left arm along the left side of my body until I reached it. Immediately, I called my dad as best as I could calmly told him that I had hit a ditch and that my arm was definitely broken.

After I told him where to find me, I laid down trying not to scream from the pain that was getting worse. Tears were rolling down my face as I waited as patient as I could. I did not want my dad to react worse than he already would if I was panicking. When my dad got to me, his expression said it all. It looked just as bad as it was. He called 911 and got the ambulance to come out to get me. I have never seen my dad cry before in his life, but when he turned away from me, I knew he was wiping a tear.

My mom was already on her way home from work when she got the call. She followed the ambulance to the back to the woods along the cane road trail. I did not want her to see me because I knew she would lose it. She immediately started crying and panicking. The paramedics asked me to describe the pain and where it was. I just kept saying that my back and my arm. Trying to pick up my body felt like I was trying to pick up a ton of weights. My mom was imagining the worst. She kept stressing if I was paralyzed and overwhelmed with worry. The paramedics strapped me onto their board and loaded me into the ambulance.
Traveling out of the cane field felt like the longest ride of my life. Every bump they hit along the dirt and bumpy road made me scream as it made my body shake. Once I got in a room at the hospital, I laid there for twenty to thirty minutes clearly making sure the whole world knew how much I hurt and how sorry I was for doing this to my parents and myself.

At this point, it was probably an hour and a half after hitting the ditch, and I still had not received anything for the pain so my parents went to complain and attention from a large medical staff began to be all on me. I received lots of pain medication as well as being transported from x-ray to x-ray. A few minutes later they found out that I had broken both the radius and ulna at the wrist and had fractured my pelvis in three big places on the right side. I was taken into surgery right away to put the bones back into place in my arm; however, there was nothing they could do to fix my pelvis. It had to heal all on its own. In order for my pelvis to heal, I could not walk for eight weeks; therefore, I had to be in a wheelchair. I also had a cast starting at my hand and ending at my bicep.

My time in the hospital was an experience in itself. There were family and friends constantly in and out of the door to visit me. My room became the gift shop. It was filled with flowers, balloons, candy, and cookie and fruit bouquets. I also had visits from my physical therapist to help me try to get up and teach me how to use the bathroom and how to stand up without putting weight on my right side. The first few times I tried to get up, my blood pressure fell drastically and the room started spinning. The deal was that I could not leave the hospital until I could get up without feeling dizzy and my blood pressure remained normal. The physical therapist also taught me exercises I needed to do with my legs in order to keep them conditioned since I would not be walking for several weeks. The days were not so bad because people were distracting me from the pain and the physical therapy, whereas nights were the worst. I would wake up begging my mom for more medicine because I was so uncomfortable. Typically, I like to sleep curled in a ball, so laying in the same position all day and night began to stress me out and make me very unsteady in that room. After being in the hospital for four and a half days, I was finally able to do what the physical therapist wanted and was given the green light to go home.
Getting into the car was an adventure. At the time, my mom drove a Yukon, so it was a pretty big step for me off the ground that was physically impossible for me to do. The nurse and my mom somehow lifted me into my seat. Not being able to get into a car was the first of the many things that I would not be able to do on my own.

I could not do anything by myself. I was a three years old again. My mom had to help me use the bathroom along with bathing me, and moving me from place to place. Patience was needed in full force. I had a special toilet to use that was high enough for me to sit so I could use the bathroom which my mom had to clean out every time I went. I found myself waiting until I was about to burst so I didn’t have to make my mom have to clean up after me that many times a day. Night time was the most challenging. My mom had to set this bench she had bought in the shower because I could only bend my pelvic region down so much to sit down. Before she helped me into the shower, she had to wrap my cast in a garbage bag to prevent the cast from getting wet and smelling more sour than it already had. Another adjustment was tolerating the way my mom does things from the way I do them. I could not criticize the way she was doing my hair or the way she would want to dress me because she was the only one I could depend on in the predicament I was in. I was her baby all over again. All I could do was suck it up and be grateful that I had a mom who being a servant to my every need.

When I returned to school two weeks later, my dad drove back and forth from Thibodaux to New Orleans and pushed me from class to class five days a week. It was hard to have conversations with friends because no one knew what to say to me in front of my six-foot two dad, who appeared a little intimidating my looks alone. I could not ask my dad to leave because I needed someone to get me around. It felt like I was a prisoner with no freedom to do anything, not even the freedom to complain because it was an inconvenient situation for my whole family. I developed the most appreciation for my parents and respect for the handicap from my temporary condition.

After eight weeks of painful healing, I got a Velcro brace in place of my smelly cast, and was allowed to walk with a crutch in place of my wheel-chair. I was granted the freedom to moving back to my condo and driving to school. By the middle of January, I was mostly back to normal with limited activities.

It was the most difficult and frustrating time of my life where patience had to be learned or I never would have made it. My parents were my rock and got me through each day. The lessons I learned will last for the rest of my life. I have not gotten on the four-wheeler since, but if I decide to, I will listen both parts of what my dad tells me. I will not only bring my phone, but I will watch out for the ditch.