Going the Extra Mile

I can still remember the sound of her laugh. The feeling that had overcame me as we walked down that alleyway, her arm wrapped around mine, a bouquet of roses in her hand, and a stomach full of butterflies dancing the macarena. So beautiful, so perfect. It was almost too perfect, as if nothing could disrupt this moment. Then...

​

Darkness. 

​

There was an unsynchronized tapping noise that kept repeating itself unorthodoxly. *Tap*Tap*Tap*. What is that noise? I opened my eyes to a white ceiling and saw my mother tapping away vigorously on her I-pad. I mumbled through my regained senses, "Where am I?" Without a moment's pause, she replied, "You were in an accident. You are in the hospital." Stunned by this news, I asked, "What do you mean? How did this accident happen?" She immediately put down her laptop and asked, "Dustin?" At this moment she began snapping in my face and kept saying, "Dustin, are you really there?"

 

Puzzled, I pushed her snapping hands away and asked, "What's going on?" I came to the conclusion that I was in a hospital and figured that I was all better because I was awake. "Okay, then it is time to go home." As I tried to stand up out of the bed, a nurse and doctor ran into the room and yelled, "No, you can't get up!" I demanded an answer, "Why won't you let me leave?" The doctor looked me sternly in the eyes and said, "You can't walk..."

​

The rest of the day was a blur as I was rushed into an ambulance and taken to Craig Hospital. Why couldn't I move my legs? What was going on? A pile of letters was put into my lap from all the people that had been sending me support. The notes read, "Get better! We miss you! Praying for you! Happy Halloween!" (The last note was from my girlfriend that I had just started dating the day before my accident). Happy Halloween? How long had it been? This lucid dream consisted for the rest of the day until I woke up the very next morning to a white ceiling above my head.

 

That's when it dawned on me, this is a nightmare and I can't wake up. This is my reality.

 

They put me into a wheelchair and told me that I had damaged my legs in an accident. What was the accident? I had been hanging onto the side of my friends car going 45 m.p.h. down a hill while riding a longboard and I had fallen. I was not wearing a helmet. I dislocated my jaw and the impact on my head had caused swelling in the right half of my brain. They had to do emergency surgery to stop the swelling, so they removed half of my skull. I literally had a dip in my head for 4 months and had to wear a helmet at all times with big glasses. I looked like a disabled Urkel in a wheelchair haha *sigh*. I recall being wheeled up to a mirror and I did not recognize myself. I didn't remember much either. My past seemed to be blocked out and I could only get parts of it.

 

They couldn't figure out what was wrong with my legs or why I couldn't use them? They kept sending me into Swedish Hospital to do surgeries and tests on me. I was born in Sweden, but I came to hate Swedish Hospital because it always meant pain. Every morning they would take an inch long shot into my stomach because I had a chip in me to thin my blood while I was in a coma. I had been in a coma for 5 days and was out of consciousness for a week and half.

 

I suffered from a Traumatic Brian Injury, so my brain literally restarted for the 1.5 week period of time I was away from consciousness (before I 'woke up'). My parents told me that some days I only spoke in numbers, and other days I would replay memories while awake. They used to keep me up all night because my legs would cramp up and cause me extreme pain. The process was repetitious: Wake up to a morning shot, wheelchair to the dining hall after taking my meds, attend PT and OT, and cry myself to sleep from the leg pain and headaches.     

 

They had tried everything on my legs and could not figure out what was wrong? They had tried all western medicine practices and then finally turned to a non-traditional method. They proposed using ghost pepper extract to massage into my legs with the hope that the heat would fire my nerves again. Amazingly enough, I stood up again for the first time the next day. Not for long, but it was a start. 

 

I had to fight everyday to try to get better. I wanted to get back to school, I wanted to play football and wrestling, and above all, I wanted to see my girlfriend. Days turned to weeks and I just kept working on myself. There was a bridge connecting two halves of Craig Hospital that curved like an upside-down U. I used this to wheelchair back and forth on so I could build my arm strength back. If I could barely walk, I was going to need my arms to work with me. I started breaking the rules of the hospital and would take myself down to the gym, unsupervised, so I could lift weights. I had to fight everyday to try to get better.

 

It wasn't easy. A therapist asked me, "What is your goal?" I valiantly went on about how I was going to get back into school and play sports again! My therapist looked at me and said, "Dustin, I know you really want this, but it just isn't going to happen. Look where you are. You have to be realistic with yourself." This caused a fire to burn deep within my soul. You can tell me what I can or cannot do but you can never tell me who I am? I felt anger towards her at the time which helped push me to work harder than ever to achieve my goals. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and before I knew it I was able to walk again with a granny-walker. I now look back at my therapist like the Oracle from The Matrix; the Oracle tells Neo that he is not the One, yet, as Morpheus makes clear to Neo, "She only told you what you needed to hear."  

 

I got back into high school as an auditory student for the last month of classes and had to use a cane on campus (they made me use one so I couldn't sue the school if I got injured on campus). Well, if they were going to make me use a cane, then I wanted a pimp cane haha. My dad went out of his way to get me a black cane with a gold ball on the top. I know now the names of my 'issues', but I couldn't remember anyone's names and multiple events of my life were blank. People would get mad at me because I didn't remember them; apparently, former me had been quite popular and knew everyone's names and new me didn't realize I had retrograde amnesia. That summer I had to take summer school classes so I could catch up again and be ready to graduate. I had been a junior in high school when the accident happened and made it back into high school my senior year.

 

I remember the next time I looked at myself in a mirror. I recognized myself as I was STANDING, wearing a cap-and-gown, and holding a diploma in my hand. I was 17 years old and felt like I had just conquered the world. "The key to life is happiness. If you believe in yourself, anything is possible"(A quote by me and my very first tattoo that my parents paid for). Not only did I graduate high school from the Denver School of the Arts with my class of 2015, I was accepted with full-ride scholarships and grants to the University of Northern Colorado. I decided that if I was ever going to wake up again with years of my life missing, it would be on my terms. I live everyday to the fullest. I now have a Bachelor's Degree in Psychology with minor(s) in music/anthropology, I've worked in South Korea and Australia, and have become an avid adventurer. Everyone faces challenges and this was my challenge that I had to overcome so I could go the extra mile.

 

This journey taught me resilience, hard work, independence, and living every day as if it is your last. I am happy for the good and bad moments in life because at least I get to experience them. That is far better than not being able to experience them at all.

 

Click on this LINK to see my story through Craig Hospital.

 

​