One Step At a Time

Ten hours of surgery. Four broken bones. Two weeks in the hospital. One upcoming senior whose life changed in the blink of an eye. I will not look back upon the summer before senior year fondly; it was the summer I paid the price for someone else’s mistake; my mind, body, and spirit were put to the test. Only one day after returning from visiting family, I was hit by a drunk driver on my way home from work. Boundless pain, fear of the unknown, and a close brush with death was where my journey began. I was an independent seventeen year old with two jobs, a license, and a lively social life, thus a piece of myself crumbled away being confined to a hospital bed. The beginning was a vast haze in my mind, I was awoken to immense pain pulsating through my entire body and overwhelming consternation. What had happened? Where was I? What’s going on? Why does everything hurt? Ultimately my mind wrapped itself around the memories of the previous night and I was told that I had broken both my legs, torn a ligament in my knee, and broken my wrist. The rest of my stay in the hospital was an experience I wish to never relive. It overwhelmed me; I couldn’t catch my breath with the constant poking and prodding, the incessant beeps, cups full of pills in all shapes and sizes, and the age-old question, “How is your pain on a scale one to ten?”. Raised as the first daughter in a Hispanic household, I had always been self sufficient and determined to achieve my goals; yet having my mother brush my teeth in the hospital discouraged me. This wasn’t the only shame I faced. With time I became painfully aware that I could no longer complete the simple tasks that once made me feel human, such as going to the bathroom or getting myself ready for the day.

My internal struggle with my physical state is a battle I have yet to win. Not to mention no amount of positive thinking or looking toward my fully recovered future can stop my emotions, more often than not tears stream down and make me face my anguish. My mental health was at an all time low despite all the care and love I had received. For my first few months of recovery, my old mental scars were reopened and I had a hard time accepting my reality. Panic attacks and breakdowns constantly peppered my new life. Nevertheless my family and friends loved and supported me while I continued to struggle and recover; they became a driving force in my recovery.

Slowly, I have gained my confidence and tenacity back more than ever, to reclaim the part of myself that I had lost. My momentous return home brought me more happiness than I expected; while I wasn’t walking or anywhere near my normal, I had grown. Back home I began to flourish and make more headway than I ever had before, I began to use a walker to walk around my house regularly and pushed to venture beyond my room. While it may not sound like much, coming from confinement to a bed with hardly any mobility, it presented a whole new world to me. Each step, though painful, meant one step closer to my goal. And even if I progress faster than expected, as fast as my mind may want to move, I was at the will of my body. Patience and self-restraint are an essential quality one should strive to gain, while I wouldn’t recommend breaking one’s own bones to find them, facing adversity pushes you closer to discovering a new part of yourself.

Challenge after challenge, I persevered and relied on support from those around me, but school challenged me the most. As a senior in highschool I was devastated when I was told returning to school with the rest of my classmates would be difficult. Yet I refused to give up when told returning in August for my senior year would be “too taxing,” or it wouldn’t be a “realistic expectation.” Despite my fears, bright and early on August 10, I woke up at 4:30 am to go to Senior Sunrise. Against all expectations I made it, wheelchair bound and a smile on my face. Day after day I attended school in my wheelchair and continued my studies; I bore through the arduous pain and frustrations of my immobility with a brave face. I was able to overcome that state of my life by focusing on my future and attaining my biggest dreams through pure desire.

My broken bones have not stopped my ambition and desire to reach my full potential, in fact they have only impelled me to rise above my setbacks. I transitioned from a wheelchair, a walker, and cane in a short time of 5 months. While this journey towards recovery still is not over, each day helps me learn more about who I want to become. My experience has helped me to open my eyes and truly understand how to adapt and know I can face anything. For the rest of my senior year, college, and life, I will carry the experience that I am a survivor of a drunk driver’s ignorance and know step by step I can make it anywhere.