32 which was accessible, thinking I would be back home in no time. But on the second day, I had a blood clot or a piece of plaque that might have broken free from an artery from the fall, which caused a ‘widowmaker’ heart attack. I was rushed back to the hospital by the same paramedics and firefighters. They found me in traction with my legs up in the air and no undergarments on. It was becoming a pattern with me and fire- fighters, and we all joked to lighten the situation. I remember them calling me “Britney Spears” because she was in the news that week for not wearing under- wear while exiting a limo. When I woke up after an eight-hour heart surgery, I was informed that I could not use my arms for six weeks. I thought, “What? I have no legs, and now no arms to use! How am I going to eat, drink, or get around in my wheel- chair?” They released me from the hospital into the care of my husband, who worked on call and never knew when he would be home, so he passed me on to my aging mother. I was taken back to her care with more home healthcare support. I soon realized it was going to be a long, hard road to recovery. I underwent 20 more hours of surgeries on my legs to strengthen and stabilize them. About every six months, I would face another setback in my recovery process. Just when I would see the light at the end of the tunnel, it seemed to be pushed fur- ther away, with new hills and curves added to my journey. Yet, I refused to let those challenges deter me. My determi- nation grew stronger, and I embraced the journey, knowing that each struggle brought me one step closer to walking without pain. It took over three years of daily physiotherapy to help me take my first steps. I was told that after three years, I had reached maximum recovery, but I couldn’t accept that. I kept push- ing to improve myself and my functional abilities. One day I was waiting in my wheelchair for my mom to pick me up after a thera- py session. I saw a woman who appeared to be homeless, yelling at the sky. Then the woman approached me, put her hands on my head and yelled “Please, Jesus, heal this woman! Help her walk again!” I wasn’t much of a believer, but I didn’t want to upset the lady and make the situation worse. I saw my mom waiting in her car, so I stood up from my wheelchair, held on to the hood of the car and took baby steps to the car door. I could see the physiotherapy staff watching through the window, clapping and laughing. I took more steps that day than I had so far, so in a way the woman did heal me! Yes, the Lord or the universe works in mysterious ways. After I discovered I could take a few steps, I grew braver and started working through the pain. I started in the gro- cery store, and over many years expand- ed my endurance from the produce sec- tion to the meat department and finally the frozen food section. When I hit my limit my husband would take me home and then go back to finish the shopping. After being mainly confined to my home for over four years, I experienced panic attacks in certain situations, and my family couldn’t always be with me so I decided to train my own service dog as a form of therapy for myself. Ricco turned out to be the best service dog I could have asked for—opening doors for me, picking up items I dropped, and going to get my phone for me. I could lean on him for balance when there was no railing or going up and down stairs. One night, we went for a training and family walk down to the waterfront, and there was a boat full of firefighters prac- ticing drills. As I approached the dock, I could hear the men yell, “Hey Britney, how are you doing?” I had to laugh— they remembered me, not my real name, but close enough. I still have limits to how much walking I can do. I had to renovate my entire house to accommo- date my disabilities—grab bars every- where, new accessible bathrooms, wider doorways, ramps, and a van conversion so I can drive myself places. My occupational therapist helped me acquire medical aids and adjustments to make my life better, allowing me to accomplish much more in a day and giving me back my freedom to function almost as I did before my work accident. My life’s road has been rocky and steep at times compared to some people, but it all could have been avoided. Let my story be a reminder that accidents can happen to anyone, but by staying vigi- lant, we can prevent them. Barb Dexter and Threads of Life
