What Happened?

On August 4th, 2015, my life was changed forever. I was an elite athlete my entire life.  I competed all over the world as a gymnast when I was young, and then rowing and track & field (pole vault) at the Division I level in college.  I was an athlete in all aspects.  I ran, I rowed, I lifted.. but I did not bike.  In fact, I had not been on a bicycle since 2002, when I was hit by a car in Ohio, and thrown from my bike.  I left cycling forever after that, thinking, there's a thousand other ways to exercise than a bike. I had a friend though, who is an avid mountain biker, and on that fateful day in 2015, despite my saying "no" a dozen times, she pressured me to try it.

Only, I never made it very far.  I put my feet on the pedals, mounted the bike, and my front wheel zigged and zagged on the uneven trail, as I tried to gain my balance.  That wiggly wheel must've hit a rock and turned sideways, and took me down a narrow slope, and over the edge of a cliff.  I fell head-first over a cliff, plummeting over 30 feet onto flat cement, where I landed flat on my back, in a drainage ravine.  I basically looked like the "chalk outline" bodies that you see on TV shows.  I never lost consciousness, and can recall every painstaking moment of my tragic fall.

When I landed, my lungs started to fill with blood, I could barely breathe, but I found the will to faintly cry out for help. I couldn't feel anything in my body.  Nothing moved at all.  I tried to yell out, "Help! I can't feel my legs!" but I didn't know if anyone heard me.  I could not move more than my head.  My arms were numb, but I could wiggle my fingers.  At that moment, I knew I was paralyzed.  I was lifted out by a fire rescue team, who scaled their way carefully to the top. I was rushed to Stanford Hospital’s Emergency Trauma Center in Palo Alto, California.

I had 19 broken bones (14 broken ribs, 5 vertebral fractures), two punctured lungs, two hemothoraces (blood spilling into the lung), and a mysterious and rare combination of two spinal cord injuries.  At the T10 level, the cord was crushed, and a large bone fragment sat precariously only 1 1/2 millimeters from my descending aorta. Just one more bump in the ambulance could've ended it all for me.  I also had a partial cord injury at T5, resulting in varying levels of sensation and function from the chest down.  The partial at T5 became a full cord injury after I had a life-threatening presyrinx develop in my spinal column 2 1/2 weeks after my injury.  It was basically uncontrolled swelling in the spinal column traveling north toward the brain, strangulating the healthy cord tissue and depriving it of oxygenated blood.  My presyrinx travelled all the way up to C2 before the specialists could intervene, just below the base of the brain - and it was only by sheer luck and the grace of God that I did not die suddenly, or become a quadriplegic.  Since then, I’ve been categorized with T5 complete paraplegia.  Irreversible misfortune.

Immediately after the injury, I underwent two surgeries to stabilize and decompress my spinal cord, and was hospitalized for nearly two and a half months, first in the ICU, then the trauma unit, and finally I was transferred to a spine center for acute rehab.  In the beginning, I had to re-learn how to brush my teeth, comb my hair, and even struggled to lift a pen and place it an arm's length away from me.  It took me 9 minutes to put on a sock.  I could not sit up on my own, without a harness.  I still cannot sit in my chair and straighten both arms out in front of me (Frankenstein-style) without tipping over.  I have the balance of, say, a 6-month old baby you'd see in diaper commercials.  Determined and self-motivated as I've always been as an athlete, I made tremendous strides in my recovery.  At 3 months out from this traumatic, paralyzing, life-altering injury, I did the unthinkable.  I was lifted onto a plane and flew back to work.  This was record time.  It normally takes survivors of such injuries 1 to 2 years to rehabilitate well enough to work again – in fact, about 92% of spinal cord injury survivors either choose to, or have no choice but to,  live on permanent disability.  The mental and emotional darkness is even more unbearable than the pain, at times.  I get a lot of compliments from strangers and loved ones alike, about my positive spirit and zest for life.  But it was a simple choice for me, early on: I knew I could live the rest of my life bitter and angry, a hermetic curmudgeon who's mad at the world; or I be my usual spunky, chipper, lively, happy self, and share smiles with everyone I meet.  It was a no-brainer for me.  But, even after 15 surgeries and procedures, 2 years of intensive physical therapy, and overwhelming emotional and physical pain, my positive spirit, dedication and determination willed me back, so that I can continue to help others.  As long as I have more to give, I'll keep going 'till the wheels fall off.  This is life, version 2.0, and I am working to make it better than ever.

- Joan Rubinger © 2017