Birthday Incident Essay

“At least you were alive to experience your birthday.”

The incident took place three days after my birthday. I have received an assortment of condolences in my lifetime, but this one definitively trounced its comrades.

On Saturday, March 28th of 2015, all of my goals and ambitions came to a sporadic halt with the possibility that I might not be able to complete these tasks at hand in the near future, if at all. Ten minutes until 7 o’clock in the evening, I was driving east on Independence Blvd in Wilmington, North Carolina when an intoxicated, young driver barreled through a red light and executed a side impact collision successfully. My Jeep Wrangler crumbled underneath the frame of the Isuzu Rodeo, and my life, as I had once known it, ultimately

I awoke to a white sheet draped over my body with an immense amount of blood seeping through its fabric. The Jaws of Life ripped apart my vehicle as if it were a damp piece of paper. I felt nothing—not physically, mentally, or emotionally. My surroundings were so obscure that I could not even comprehend the words leaving the lips of the emergency medical technicians. And then I felt it. A brace was strapped around my neck and my body was hoisted onto a stretcher. My entire left side of my body had been mangled beyond belief. I have been exposed to a profuse amount of painful events in my lifetime, but nothing could prepare me for what my future held.

The airbag had struck me so rigorously that I retained a conglomerate of abrasions, as well as a dislocated jaw. My molars had fragmentized as well, resulting in a multiplex of dental surgeries that would proceed after my three-week stay in the hospital. I cannot convey the deplorable images of withering away in a hospital bed, or the months that followed in a rehabilitation center. However, I was well taken care of by the staff at New Hanover Regional Medical Center and I am eternally grateful for the support and care I received during my

I found solace in my father’s household, who doubled as a nurse-aid whilst dispensing my medications and administering two shots into my stomach per day; a necessary evil meant to reduce the risk of internal bleeding. The first night I stayed at my father’s house, I found myself unable to move towards the bathroom without high volumes of pain materializing throughout my body. I spent the remainder of my time on his couch, where I had an easier time accessing my walker.

My promising future morphed into a diminishing blur. How was I going to continue my education as a full-time student? How was I going to support myself if I could not continue working full-time? Earlier in the year, I had made plans to volunteer with Canines for Service, assisting in the training of service dogs for individuals with mobility disabilities. My father is the owner of a veterinarian practice in Leland, so I had been exposed to working with a variety of animals at a young age; and if my volunteer hours would result in the union of a disabled individual and a furry friend, then I was all the more elated.

That was how I discovered