5:30 am, get up, do exercises assigned by doctor and get ready for school. 7:30 to
2:30pm, school. 3:00 to 4:00pm do homework, take care of dog and help mom around the house.
4:30 to 6:30pm, go to one of my doctor appointments. 7:00 to :7:30pm, help around the house
and complete homework before going to my dad’s house. 7:30 to 9:30 or 10:00pm, help out
around dad’s house, take care of cat and complete any unfinished  homework. 9:30 or 10:00 to
10:10pm, complete exercises assigned by doctors then go to sleep.

This is mainly what my days have consisted of since December 6th, 2013. Pretty boring
huh? Who would’ve thought your life can be completely flipped upside down in literally just a
blink of an eye. Sure a majority of people may be well aware that its possible, especially when
driving but yet none fully understand it until they experience it. I was one of these people, sure I
was aware that I wasn’t invincible, but my adolescent mind believed I was and was unable to
understand that I could be seriously injured. However, December 6th,2013 was the night I got a
taste of reality that then allowed my adolescent mind to fully understand I’m not invincible.
December 6th,2013, there is rain and darkness which is already not a promising sign.

Returning home troubled from a defeat in my basketball game, I disregarded the hazards of the
gracious combination of rain and darkness. I exhaust myself from discontent about the game and
begin inching my head slightly away from the sliding door, I glance at my mother driving, then
my cousin in the passenger seat, then finally to my sister on the right side of me and listen to my
brother behind me as I begin to doze off. I am awaken from my nap just as quickly as I feel into
it from the screeching of tires, flash of light, and then a large BANG! Puzzled and dazed I look
around seeing nothing but the bloody face of my mother and the look of shock upon both my
mother and cousin as they stare at me in horror. I think to myself, what is it that is causing them
to react this way? Quickly becoming lightheaded I reach to hold my head, until I feel my hand
become wet with some liquid, I withdraw my hand and see it red from the redness within me
which is now trickling out. I look to my left and see that the door that has left me with this injury
has vanished and is nowhere to be seen. Ambulances come in what feels like seconds and rush us
to the emergency room.

In the hospital still dazed from what has happened I wait in a room. A man enters and
inserts 15 stitches into my head while I sit there thinking about two things: how I won’t play in
my game tomorrow and that I’m alive, maybe the refusal in belief of my adolescent mind was
what kept me alive, or maybe just a stroke of luck. Whatever it maybe, I just knew I was alive.
My father and grandparents enter to take me home. They have a look shock yet slight relief when
they look at me. Their reaction reminds me that I haven’t washed my face off and that now dried
up redness continues to cover my face.

I return to school three days later which were coincidentally snow days causing no one to
suspect anything of me. Nothing caused anyone to suspect me out of the ordinary other than the
bandage on my head which raised questions from both students and teachers. I painfully pushed
through my explanation in the cause of my bandage while watching their faces sit in shock then
listen to the pity they have for me which brings me no relief from my pain. My school days I
would struggle to understand, concentrate and focus on the information being given in each of
my classes . As the days went on it would feel as if I was just getting worst.

Near the end of March, I see a specialist and leave her office with knowledge that my mild concussion has gotten worst and that I’ll be a vegetable for the next two weeks to recover.

The worst two weeks I’ve ever experienced, it just felt like a complete waste of time even though
I knew it was for the betterment of my own health. I return to school with only having to do half
the work load but yet feeling so far behind and so lost with everything going on, I felt like I was
running a race with broken legs. Sure teachers tried to help but their wasn’t much they could do
since it was the end of the year and finals and final grades were coming up. Depressed?
Frustrated? Of course I was, yet I surprisingly managed to keep up most of my grades and
portray myself as “normal”.

September, my head is feeling back to normal but my back is bothersome. I get an MRI and see I have a bulged disk in my back which is just as painful as it sounds. I go back to my specialist and she requires me to see a physical therapist for my back and a occupational therapist as well as a psychologist to be sure my head is healing properly. Psychologist? Am I crazy? Does she feel I’m crazy and tells me its just to be sure of my head is properly healing just to comfort me? With all of this disappointing feedback months from the incident makes me wonder if I’ll
ever be back to normal again.

Now its November and I am seen as a hero to my family, for if I wasn’t sitting were I was the accident would’ve left my little sister in critical condition or possibly dead. From hearing this I was able to look at the accident in a new way, and this new way allowed me feel that all these health problems were for a reason , which was the life of my sister. Currently,   I am now only required to see a physical therapist. Physically, I feel much better, but mentally I still feel imprisoned from this miserable routine. I’m due to see my neurologist soon, I’m hoping for the best for hearing her clearing me for sports, but also preparing for the worst of hearing I’ll miss another season. As I look up from this paper I see the time is 4:30, time to drag myself to therapy
again, however the whole time I just keep thinking that one day this routine will be broken.