Because most people take advantage of everyday things, just being alive is one people should learn to be grateful for. From a first-person perspective, it took a near death experience to change my view on life and ultimately, how I live every day.
At the age of fourteen, I walked into my eleventh surgery. Past surgeries were minor and not as extreme like this one; however, this surgery was also not mandatory. I had chosen to have a spinal correction surgery to fix my scoliosis. I hopped on the operation table as it was just another easy surgery. That was the last time I would ever hop on a table. After surgery was completed, I woke up two days later paralyzed from the waist down and as a result I became a T-10 paraplegic. Doctors were trying to figure out what went wrong for days. My family and I never received an answer. After being in the ICU for ten days, the doctors sent me to rehabilitation. This is where I regained my strength and began the struggle to regain my independence. This conflict is clearly shown in rehab where I was very stubborn and did not want to do any training exercises. I had to learn how to do everything in a wheelchair, from showering differently to just getting into a car. These deceivingly simple skills I developed from my physical therapist. During the four months I was there, I thought I was going to one day feel my legs again. Presently, I am still waiting for that day.
Following rehab, I went to Pennsylvania where a second opinion concerning my paraplegia was established. My family and I visited the new doctor who did not fret to tell me everything. Upon entering his office, the doctor delivered the unconcealed truth to me. This is where I discovered that I will never walk again in my life time. Hearing those words struck a vivid, unforgettable image in my mind that I still remember today; I was bursting in tears unable to compose myself. What was to come only made it worse. I began to suffer from depression immediately following those life-changing words. After a myriad of doctor visits, I returned to school as an eighth grade student. Shortly after returning to school, the questions began. It was during this time that I expressed denial about my future. Tons of people desired to know what had happened to me and whether or not I was going to walk again. The repetition and impersonal disrespect these people exhibited bothered me a great deal. My answer to such questions was always a pretense. I usually lied and told them maybe around college my nerves would regenerate. As weeks went by, my true friends stepped up and helped me escape my denial. These friends would push me around the hallways when I was tired or they just deemed it necessary too. A combination of the little things like that in school along with helping me in and out of friend’s houses or otherwise difficult places for handicapped people always made me feel like I was asking for too much. According to them, however, it was their duty as a loyal friend to be there and help me even if I was a capable on my own.
The very same summer my mom sent me to a summer camp composed of various disabled young teens. This was only seven months after the surgery, and it made me feel rushed to make new, separate friends. At first this seemed like a good idea, but later proved to be wrong for me. Yes, I did meet many different disabled kids, yet they were all born with their disabilities; I was not. I realized that I did not belong there. Just because I was recently disabled did not mean I had to hang out with disabled people, nor did I want to. I liked the true friends I had prior to attending this camp; why did I have to make new ones just because they were disabled like me? I left the camp and never returned because I accepted who I really am. I am still the same person I was before that decisive surgery.
The year after, I was a new person. Confidently, I rolled the hallways of high school and I was not going to let anything stand in my way. I felt that as long as I am alive, time keeps moving; therefore, I will keep moving too. My personality changed from looking at people differently to accepting everyone for who they are. They knew I was in a wheelchair, but soon they talked to me it was as if I was walking beside them. I made many new friends and never once did I feel lonely. All along, my parents were my greatest supporters. Now I feel that I can confide in them about anything because I know they will support any decision that I put my mind to.
This experience has left me living every day to the fullest. Even though I can no longer walk, I am still able to communicate, learn, and do what ever I want till the day I die. Every minute I am grateful for the greatest gift I was given when I was born: Life.