June 7, 1999

Ten years ago today, I walked into work and did not walk out.

Fortunately, that was not the entire story. While I have moved on with my life, there will always be something that I left there on the floor where I lay having suffered multiply broken bones.

The years have gone by and every June 7th, I think of my coworkers who surrounded me in the moments after I had been tossed about like a rag doll on a paper machine. I can still feel the warm humid air and see my legs twisted; my right thigh laying on top of my left leg causing great discomfort. Endorphins were racing through my body as I tried to take hold of the situation in my mind. My body was geared for fight or flight and it had chosen the latter because the only place I wanted to be was home, but I could not move.

There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of it. It is always there hovering over me. While I was recovering, I imagined that my bones would heal and I would return to the things that I did before. But that did not happen. I can say that most days the pain in my knees is minimal and sometimes hardly noticeable, but I am still incapable of certain movements or actions like running or squatting. But there are days when it just hurts and all I really want to do is get off my feet. Then, there are days that are absolutely insufferable and by the end of the day I am in tears from the pain. About a month ago, I suffered a few days of hellish pain in both knees, which made it difficult to focus on anything else.

I think back to the changes I have made in my life from avoiding certain activities such as amusement parks and finding a job where I am not on my feet all the time. Peter, who I had hired to represent me, and I were discussing the merits of my case when he stopped in mid-sentence and said, “Look at you. You’re like a five year old kid.” I became offended because I thought he was talking about my intellect, but he continued to explain that he had been watching me fidget in the chair for the past five minutes as if I were a five year old who could not sit still. I still cannot sit still. But I always appreciate those moments when I can just sit there and relax.

There is a reoccurring dream that I have from time to time. I am back inside the paper factory and one of my bosses comes over and says, “I need you to work on this machine.”

I reply, “I cannot work on the machine. My knees hurt,” And for the rest of my dream I am upset because I was asked to do something I just could not do. I have similar dreams about once or twice a month. Every time, I am always asked to do work that I cannot do, but there is also this feeling that I am capable of something far superior than the work I’ve been requested to perform.

I spent some years lamenting those things I could not do any longer. At twenty-three, I felt that thirty to forty good years were taken from me. I had been in the best shape of my life and believed that life was only getting better. Only a few people knew that this dark cloud hung over me for I believed that death had not finished me off. While it was something I constantly tried to discredit, in my mind I felt that I was going to die before I reached my thirtieth birthday. As my birthday approached, this dark cloud began to lift off of me. What this taught me was that beliefs are powerful and must be reexamined to really determine if they make sense.

At one time, I believed I was not college material until I met some people who graduated from college. Now I am pursuing something I would never believed or even dream that I could achieve. In fact, sometimes I think I am crazy to even consider the possibility, but why not?