Your Brain Doesn't Forget

I don't remember it, but i'm sure my parents do very well. My first steps, awkward and wobbly, a sharply edged coffee table serving as support. Spacial and physical awareness along with innately ingrained balance and instinct teaching me everything i need to know. My parents are just cheerleaders, looking on with pride and there to pick up the pieces if necessary. What a cool feeling that must be, as a parent, witnessing your child's instinct drive them forward completely on their own.

Today, the room is filled with people...marketing people, photographers, the quiet guy holding the light bounce for the photographer, therapists, the guys teaching the therapists, people peeking through the window in the door...and me. All of them, i'm sure, looking on with a heavy sense of pride, and here i am, walking for the first time in eleven and a half years, in a robotic exoskeleton, and i'm feeling like i'm letting everyone down. I want to impress everyone so badly that it consumes me. Not to mention all the other emotions coming along with the fact that i am actually freaking walking right now! My mind is fielding things like being at eye level with everyone, looking down at my legs moving, looking in the mirror, self conscious about how tiny my legs are. Literally, my head is swirling with emotions.

My brain and the muscle memory of walking naturally are taking over and messing me up. Your brain doesn't forget. I want to let my momentum carry me into each step instinctively like normal, instead of waiting for the robot to engage. I'm leaning too far forward, wanting to go faster. I want to run. I envision it, but it doesn't go the way my brain wants to. I actually try to put my foot down where i want it, compensate aggressively for the movement the robot does in actuality and almost take a fall. "OK lets regroup," the guy teaching everyone is nervous for my safety. Walking in a robot is super cool, but physically not the same motion. Its a different muscle memory and when i mess up everyone seems to be frustrated that i'm not doing as well as they hoped. So i feel like a failure. When they let me go at my own speed, i seem to do better and i voice this. Instantly, the sinking feeling that they disagree consumes me. Do they think i'm just prideful and i'm blaming it on them? Totally off because i'm sure they totally think i'm great, but i automatically jump to the assumption that they are thinking something negative about me. I do this with everyone, all the time, and this time is no different. Every blog i write, every tweet, every post, every speaking gig, every sentence i utter, i need to trust myself all over again. When i do this without reserve, my quality of life has a knack of improving. Hm...life lesson?

Then i realize, i'm not the student here! This whole day is not about me. Its about the therapists. They are the ones being taught here and i am just a guinea pig, a subject of study. If i walked in this thing perfectly and already knew everything, then the therapists would have nothing to study and i'd be useless. In order to be presented with the opportunity to assess, they need something to assess. They need to study all types of students, learning tendencies, awkward circumstances, near falls, etc. The fact that i just want to go, am moving too fast and am not afraid of falling, is the curve ball that puts them in the situation where they need to accommodate for those tendencies and adjust their teaching methods accordingly. My faults put them in the situation to learn. My flaws make me perfect. The brain never forgets those either, its all a matter of reprogramming...but that's a whole other coffee talk, isn't it?

My Gift. Your Gift.

The bear-like snoring coming from the foot of my bed comforts me. A car drones by in the darkness every few seconds. My heavy eyelids put up a good fight. I'm exhausted from another day of rehabbing, but this blog screams at me to write it. The train bellows into the misty night, its empty cars chasing the huffing engine over its long metal ladder. The idea started a few weeks ago, but I didn't know how to write it without sounding like a complete A-hole and it hit me earlier today. Those of you who know me, have heard me talk about my paralysis as a gift. Simply put, I can just go do the things I love and people seem to be stoked in a huge way. My gift. Well, this doesn't just apply to my paralysis. It's a mindset that permeates into everything. Its all or nothing really. For example, the gallons of snot flowing constantly from my nose a couple weeks ago, stirred some frustrations within me. I hate being sick! It sucks! I angrily elbowed the paper towel dispenser in a bathroom after completely emptying my nose and then three seconds later dealing with another snot explosion. Ugh! Then it hit me. "At least you can blow your nose. Be thankful for that." I have a few quadriplegic friends who can't. Not only that but they can't scratch an annoying itch or pop a zit or a thousand other things I take for granted having operating fingers and some semblance of abdominal muscles. Being upset at anything is usually just a matter of perspective...and the American, affluent first world, way is mostly blind of this perspective.

Now, here's the next thing. This mindset is not easy. I'll be honest, it's not fun being a paraplegic sometimes. Let's just say this: it's not just my legs that are paralyzed. Just explaining reality here. This mindset has become survival. The reason it's all or nothing is imagine what would happen to me if I began to dwell on the daily tasks. If the half full glass began to empty. It would cause a catastrophic shift. That's the alternative and, for me, it's not worth it. Feeling sorry for myself would make my life suck. So, when I'm struck with any type of adversity I can now put this spin on it: It makes me better. Because what is the most important thing in life? Having fun? Enjoying yourself? Not in my opinion. I say building character is the reason I'm here. Looking back, what do I remember most? That perfect surf session? That unreal powder day? That night I laughed so hard with my friends my abs hurt the next morning? NO! It's the times I was broken. Those are the memories sitting starkly in my memory, as a gift reminding me of who I am, shaping me into the man I want to be.

I'm going to take this a step further and say that you probably expect this of me. You expect me to be that kind of positive guy. Well, why do I need to choose this and sit back while others squander their gifts? This means you. If I am going to find the light in every "difficult" thing, day in and day out, even when I don't feel like it, then why can't you? I'm talking about everything from spilling coffee all over the counter to your phone breaking to sitting in traffic to loosing your dog to catching your spouse in bed with someone else to being paralyzed from the neck down. Everything...little and large. Adversity is an opportunity to choose your highest path. It is why you are here. Your opportunity to face the darkest parts of yourself head on. Your Gift. All it takes is teaching yourself to see this while in the middle of it all. That's the hard part, but I believe in you because the human will is a very powerful thing.

Fighting Back

The admitting physician asks me, "Can you drive independently? Can you go to the bathroom by yourself?" Something deep inside wants to say "Google me, bitch!" but i bite my pride and respond appropriately, letting him examine me with his chubby fingers. I'm not the usual patient here and baffled nurses scuttle out of the room, agitated that i refuse their pink plastic water pitcher and choose to use my own glass bottle.

It's been a long battle, these last three months. Somehow, someway, a Staph infection made its home deep in my spine and moved quickly. It literally ate one of my vertebrae and part of another. How does that happen? I mean, exactly how does an infection find a vertebrae and eat it so quickly? One MRI showing nothing and then another three weeks later corralling all types of doctors into urgent action. I've never heard of anything like this and the doctors have no clue how it came to this, but here i am, two major surgeries later, healing, fighting back, as my beside lamp from home softly illuminates this white stale room.

Rewind three months.

Water (sweat) fills my ear and i awake in total panic. I'm under water! I fight to breathe and swim, but realize i'm in a bed. Confusion. I don't know who or where i am. Delirium. Complete amnesia. I'm scared. "Somebody help me!" Expletive after expletive, i scream into the salty darkness. Soaking wet and freezing, survival mode takes over and i tear off my shirt, burrow into the wet blankets and cry myself to sleep.

That's what the fevers did to me and when they started, my appetite stopped. Five days with no food and a good friend, fed up with me, bought me a thermometer. This was the thing that finally told how high my fevers actually were and when the 105 degree crash landing into the ER happened.

My spine needed to be rebuilt and the surgeon needed to gain access through the side of my chest, remove a rib and detach my diaphragm to remove the leftover fragments of bone, crumbs from the table, and the other infected vertebrae. Cadaver bone was put in place, but during surgery i lost too much blood so they had to stop. Waking from that surgery was a nightmare. Fear. Claustrophobia. Pain. Unable to move. Every breath excruciating. And you can count out sleeping too. I think I went five or six days without sleep.

The next surgery was seven days ago and the surgeons are amazed at how fast i've recovered. The stationary bike, resistance bands, weights, stretching, and throwing the medicine ball around all have me exhausted and it feels good. I was sick for so long. My appetite returned a few days ago and now i can't stop eating. I'm pale and thin, but my resolve feels strong as ever. The next few months of rehab will be very difficult, but i'm fighting back.

This has been the biggest mountain i have ever had to climb.

Life Lesson: We manifest what we want for our lives, but getting there might not look like what we expected and most likely is very painful and difficult. Relish the journey no matter how difficult it is. There is beauty in the struggle.