"Life has no limitations, except the ones you make."

In the ICU at Santa Clara Valley Medical Center a few days after my accident.

This past summer I had the opportunity to work as an OT intern at the University of Utah's inpatient neuro rehab. Over the weeks I had a lot of patients and therapists ask me about my early experiences and reaction to paralysis. While I doubt I'll ever forget the initial conversation I had with the doctor, I thought I'd write it down and share with others. 

I remember lying in the hospital bed waiting for someone to tell me what the damage was and thinking, "Well, I'm out for the season, but if I work real hard, I could probably be back to compete at the next nationals." When the doctor came in and said, "You broke your back, severed your spinal cord, and you'll never walk again", I didn't know how to react. It couldn't be real. The nurse in the room started crying. My grandfather came in next and he cried too. My boyfriend followed by my teammates and coaches came into the room to offer their support. 

I remember not really being able to grasp what the doctor had said, but that I needed three questions answered. I asked, "Will I be able to have children?" He quickly responded, "Yes, you still have the capability to bear children." My next question was slightly vain, but I asked, "Will I have to wear a diaper?" Luckily, he responded with a "no". And last, but not least, was the question I was almost afraid to ask.. "Can I still ride?" There was an awkward silence in the room and the doctor didn't know how to respond. One of my coaches, Teresa Keville, spoke up instead. "Yes, Sweetie, we will find a way for you to ride." 

I don't remember much else from that day, except the comfort of knowing I'd be alright and that horses would still be a part of my life. I'm grateful for the many individuals, like Teresa, who helped shape my perspective from the beginning of my life in a wheelchair. I've come to believe the words of Les Brown "Life has no limitations, except the ones you make." And if you want something bad enough, you'll find a way.

My Occupational Therapist and I on my last day in the hospital (please excuse the vaulting hoodie on backwards)

Miss Fire Opal and I (I always wear a helmet as I'm a safety freak, just not in this photo shoot. Apologies)