31 Barb trained her own service dog, Ricco, as a support and companion. T Threads of Life - the Association for Workplace Tragedy Family Support pro- vides hope and healing for individuals and families coping with work-related tragedies. Threads of Life members share their personal experience with workplace fatalities, serious injuries and illness in order to prevent future tragedies and help others to know they’re not alone. If you saw me today, you might not guess it took a monumental effort to reach this point. You could say I climbed a mountain with two broken legs while experiencing a heart attack to get here. In my previous life, I worked 60 hours a week, and strived to pull more than my weight. I thrived on outdoor activi- ties—boating, gardening, camping, hiking, canoeing, and kayaking. I was never one to lounge on the couch and watch TV. My love for dogs led me to train them and work with animals throughout my younger years. I also shared a passion for restoring classic cars with my husband. But everything changed on June 4, 2008. I was running late. We’ve all been there – feeling the pressure to get to work on time. In my haste, I skipped a few of my usual morning routines and hopped in my car. I arrived just five minutes before my shift, greeted my coworkers, shared a few laughs over coffee, and settled into the rhythm of the day. I worked in a quick-lube business—an oil change center where customers position their car over an open pit, guided by a lube tech. After eight years in this job, I had walked around those open pits day after day. I recognized the importance of safety for customers, as that was strongly emphasized by the owners: keep all customers in their cars and don’t let them walk around while their vehicle is being worked on. However, none of us took the time to consider safety for the staff. As I walked to grab an air filter from a shelving unit on the other side of the shop, I managed to navigate around two pits without incident. But on my way past the third pit, I slipped— whether on oil or water, I couldn’t tell. As I lost my balance, I instinctively reached out to brace myself, but the only place my bracing foot could land was in the open pit. I fell headfirst. Miraculously, I flipped in mid-air and landed on my feet. But the moment I hit the metal catwalk, I knew my life was about to change forever. I lay at the bottom of that pit, looking up at my coworkers’ concerned faces. Soon, I couldn’t feel my legs, and shock flooded in. When the paramed- ics arrived, they asked me a lot of questions. They said they didn’t think I had broken my long bones. I replied, “I’m sure I broke everything,” while looking at my feet facing the wrong way. They explained they would have to cut off my pants to get a better look, and right then, I started to laugh out of nervousness. I remembered that I was running late for work and hadn’t worn underwear, even though my mother always warned me to. All my male coworkers were gathered above me, watching the ordeal. I said to the para- medic, “First of all, I don’t want to see my legs; I know how bad they are. Secondly, I don’t want my coworkers to see me naked!” He laughed to reassure me, saying, “Your legs can’t be that bad or you would have passed out, and I’ll cover you with a sheet.” Once they’d cut my pants, the para- medic told me I had compound frac- tures of both legs. Soon, six firefighters arrived to coordinate my extraction from the oily and slippery pit. They talked and joked with me about my lack of clothing, all to keep me dis- tracted from the pain and shock. At the hospital, I was rushed into sur- gery, which took seven hours to stabi- lize my legs with metal plates, pins, and screws. I woke up to the realiza- tion that I would not be going back to work the next day with crutches. I was kept for two days and then sent home in a wheelchair, with both legs wrapped and in splints to keep them stable, along with instructions to not walk or bear weight at all. My home was not wheelchair accessi- ble in any way. I could not fit through my bathroom doors, and I didn’t have ramps to get around my house. I was then taken to my mother’s home, Life's Rocky Road PROFILE
