On March 18, 1999 - fourteen long years ago - in an instant - my life changed forever. I was a member of the Faulkner County (Conway, Arkansas) Leadership Class of 1999. In January of that year, we had just completed a rigorous ropes course and class retreat. I was proud of myself for making it through the ropes course and up and over (with the mighty help of a few new friends) the 12 ft high suspended log perfectly perched in the air between two trees. I then survived the legislative session at our State Capital in February. On the agenda for the March class was to visit city and state government organizations and we just so happened to have a brand spanking new city fire department. After touring the new state of the art facility, the class lined up to exit the building by way of the newly constructed fire pole. I wasn't about to be the only one NOT to experience that, although I quipped to the fire chief that 'surely the pole had a weight limit!' That got a good chuckle, but onward bound...each participant dutifully lined up to take their turn. I grabbed the pole and positioned myself carefully - just as everyone in front of me had done, or so I thought. The next thing I knew I was at the BOTTOM of that pole, 14 ft straight down - landing on the concrete that was poured the very day before! I was clutching onto it with everything I had. Talk about a bear hug! At first, they thought I had broken my neck, then my back, then people started talking about they might have to cut the pole into pieces to get me out from around it. That beautiful golden pole I had admired from the shiny circle cylinder launching pad. Somehow, I was suddenly in the ambulance, in shock, they later said. The first thing I remembered was the look of complete horror on the faces of my fellow classmates (that had successfully descended the pole before me and who were now safely on the ground). A very kind paramedic, (named Jim), held my hand in the ambulance and administered something to me that rendered me free from the mindless pain I suddenly realized was gone. To make an otherwise longer story shorter, my right leg was fractured in 4 places (basically crushed) and my back suffered injuries at L3, 4, and 5. I spent 3 months in rehab – had to learn how to walk again, and then on Christmas Eve, 1999 – I was in the hospital again – the Dr.’s had to re-break my leg and start all over. And, the next Christmas – in 2000, same exact thing – except they took bone from my hip and used to try to put good bone with the bad bone to repair the leg. (Not to mention, the snow storm that year that knocked our power out, put us in a hotel, my hip wound busted open and back to the hospital we go!) Suffice it to say, they have now done all they can do and told me so in 2001 – that, “I’m as good as I’m going to get” – with a titanium rod, two titanium plates, 18 screws and 4 nails holding my leg together – and an electronic bone stimulator still implanted in my leg – but long ago deactivated. Hence, my right leg is about 3 inches shorter than my left leg – which over the years has suffered tremendously from overcompensation. Every step I take to this day is still painful and I have to use a cane, walker, or wheelchair – depending on how I’m doing that day. I was on catastrophic leave for 10 months, and then another 6 months after the second surgery. At the time, the first state employee to have ever used it twice for the same original injury. Thank God for catastrophic leave - it allowed me to continue to be paid while I was healing. Somewhere in this time frame, I applied for Social Security Disability – but was summarily denied. (You have to be off work for a year to get approved. WHO can survive a year without a pay check???) Why am I writing about this? Because it’s about time I did. I thank God for parents who raised us to have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Had I not had that strong foundation in place, I might have thrown in the towel a few times through the first few years of this struggle. In fact, I’m quite sure of it. And, thank God I have been employed in a job that I could do still do after an extensive rehabilitation. Actually, I’ve been at the same job 21 years and have 26 years with the state now. Although that day, March 18, 1999 - changed my life and the lives of my husband and sweet child who was 9 at the time – we are still here. I am thankful to the Lord for each new day. The hardships and struggles have been many – I lost a lot of precious time not being able to be the wife and mother that I wanted to be. I didn’t get to attend many of Courtney’s school functions. Her daddy had to do ‘unspeakable’ things for me that no wife ever wants her husband to ever have to do for her, but he did it – and mostly, without belly-aching about it. He was so good to me through my darkest days and I am forever grateful. Now, every morning when I get up, I first get DOWN, and thank the good Lord for one more day, one more year, one more step at a time. It has been a wild roller coaster ride but one I am forever humbled and thankful to have had the opportunity to live and am even more grateful for all the lessons learned from this nightmare. I am woman – hear me ROAAAR…and all that jazz.
Just a couple more things before I hush. I was ashamed for a long time to admit this, but I was NOT a happy camper immediately following the accident. While I was in rehab – the first of 3 times - (did I tell you I use to work at THIS SAME rehab as a social worker several years prior to this accident? Well, I did – and many of the same wonderful staff was there. HOWEVER.I.WAS.NOT.HAPPY.TO.BE.THERE. But not just there, I was NOT happy to be anywhere. I wanted to go home. I wanted to quit hurting. I wanted to magically ascend that fire pole and make the decision NOT to go down it. [If only I had some cheese to go with my whine.]
Anyway, I remember as they were trying to get me out of the ambulance into the hospital - I was bawling – and in a terribly depressed mood. I vaguely recall seeing a couple sitting outside as I made ‘my arrival’. I was embarrassed anyone had to witness that ugly scene. After completing the intake paperwork at the rehab hospital, by the time I got to my room, there was a beautiful bouquet of smiley face candies and balloons. Who had sent this to me? I happen to love and collect ‘smiley face things’. For several days I tried to figure out this mystery! I asked everyone I knew about the bouquet, but no one took credit for it until one day when my mom and I were on the elevator and someone overheard us talking. The nice lady told me that she and her husband had seen my ‘arrival’ and felt compassion for me. I was touched and told her so. She invited me to meet her husband after dinner that night. So, mom wheeled me over to their table after dinner and the nice lady started introducing me to her kind husband, whose back was to me. As he began to turn around, I started to thank them again for their generosity when all of a sudden in the mid sentence, I realized her husband was also in a wheelchair – and he had NO legs. I quickly found out he had been in a horrible car accident and as a result, had to have both legs amputated. I felt immediate shame. Shame that I was throwing a little pity party for myself because I would have to learn how to walk again and here was this kind and generous man who would NEVER walk – on his own- again – and he’s reaching out ToMe? That incident was the second-life-changing event of my life. Through my tears, I asked him why he would reach out to me in a time that had to be ‘his darkest hour’ as well and what he told me was astounding. He explained he and his wife were sitting outside when I arrived and saw the anguish and pain in my eyes. They UNDERSTOOD and wanted to ‘reach out’ to me to cheer me up. They just chose the ‘smiley face theme’ on a whim in hopes it would make me smile. AndItDid! They didn’t know me from Adam! However, later on – as it turned out - while we did our therapy together (he was quite the motivator!) we discovered we had worked together in the past – but had never met. We had made referrals to one another as he (too) worked at a non-profit helping organization in Conway. Small world! Meeting him taught me another very meaningful life lesson. Never again would I feel sorry for myself. I would make the best of everyday I was given and I would also strive to always try to put myself in another person’s shoes – and if they didn’t have shoes, try to put myself in their circumstance before judging. I also learned firsthand the meaning of PayingItForward. And I have, many times since then.
Just one more thing and I’ll be through, I promise. Also, while in rehab, my family teased me for being the youngest person in rehab. (I also thank God on a regular basis for a healthy sense of humor.) Rick would pick Courtney up from school every day and they’d make the trip down to NLR to see me. Several months after coming home from rehab I drove to town for the first time. I looked over at Courtney and she had REAL big crocodile tears streaming down her face. I was surprised and asked her what was wrong. She looked up at me with those big brown eyes and said, “Mommy, I didn’t think you were really going to ever come home – I’ve never known anyone to EVER come HOME from a NURSING home!” I was speechless. We just sat there on the side of the road for a few minutes and hugged. Nothing had to be said. I knew she was praising the Lord just as much as I was!
There’s a phrase a friend of mine ‘trademarked’ while going through his own debilitating crisis – and I borrow it from time to time because I love it so much. “Put some GRATITUDE in your ATTITUDE.” I try to LIVE that every day. He also has a book by that same name – and he says, “Today is the tomorrow that worried you yesterday – and all is well – and then some.” Indeed, Mr. Roy Johnson, indeed, my friend. All is well, and then some!
Afterword: I failed to mention but will mention now - I DID graduate with my Leadership Class in 1999. I missed a few sessions but somehow (by the grace of God) I finished the year and got my award! I highly recommend it - but make no mistake about it - nobody is EVER going down that fire pole again, 'cept real fire-fighting professionals! Definitely, as it should be! In the past, they routinely let children slide down the pole as part of their tour on 'field trip days' - but no more. Maybe I saved a child from being injured. I'd like to think so.
