A Different Kind of Journey

I can't believe it's literally been YEARS since I've written here. But, I wanted to write this, as much for me as for anyone else struggling with any barrier in their life.
 On September 1, 2017, my beautiful yellow Lexus IS300 got hit by a semi truck on my way to work, around 5:30-6am. I do not remember the accident or the events that followed but I will tell them as I have been told. When medical staff arrived on scene, I was cut from the car with the "jaws of life" and was then life flighted to the hospital to have my wounds assessed and go into immediate surgery.

I had to have my ear basically sewn back onto my head; this was my first surgery. I had lacerated internal organs, a compound fracture of my left humerus, my pelvis was broken in four places, I had a couple of broken vertebrae, a couple of broken ribs, a broken bone in my foot, partially collapsed lungs, damage to an optical nerve in my left eye, and a traumatic brain injury. This is quite the laundry list but I am sure I am missing several things.

My first week or two in the hospital was spent in the ICU in a medically induced coma. They really weren't sure how much brain function I would have when/if I finally woke up.

After the first two weeks, I was transferred to another room at the Legacy Emmanuel hospital in Portland. This is where I started to regain cognition. I started writing on a white board, when asked what I wanted most my reply on the white board was "candy". I also spent frustrating minutes trying to get across to my dad and boyfriend at the time that I "appreciate" them. When they couldn't figure it out, they asked a nurse for assistance who quickly understood what I was writing.

I started seeing occupational and physical therapists who made me do such things as sit on the edge of the bed, which I found extremely difficult at the time.

My attempt at a smile

My favorite part of each day was getting to go around in the garden, which I was determined to have happen every day while I was there. 

After four weeks at Emmanuel, they told me that I got in to RIO. Much to my dismay, it wasn't the Rio I imagined in Brazil, but the Rehab Institute of Oregon. This turned out to be much much better, and helped me so immensely. 

I spent two weeks at RIO, and my transformation from beginning to end was nothing short of a caterpillar emerging from their cocoon. When I arrived, I could hardly move, and needed help with everything. I wasn't eating real food yet and needed assistance getting ready in the morning. 

By the time I left, I was taking a lap around the hall (with a spotter just in case), and I could get myself ready, and I was eating daily quesadillas and chocolate cake. My therapists, speech, occupational and physical, were so incredibly amazing. They helped me recover like nothing I could have expected or dreamed of. My stubborn perseverance helped too!

 Remember my damaged optical nerve? Well it gave me double vision and that's why I resemble a pirate in some photos; otherwise I wore safety glasses with one lense taped. If I only used one eye, my double vision was gone, but my depth perception was sorely lacking. However, we knew everything would be okay when I was performing better on memory games with my speech therapist than my dad and boyfriend were.

My family deserves all the gold stars for their love and support during this time. My dad and I watched Cutthroat Kitchen together every day during my rest period in between extensive rehab sessions.

I spent two weeks at RIO, and then they let me go home, to continue outpatient rehab several days a week. This photo was taken on my last day at RIO; my family had "Team Ashley" shirts made, and mine read "Captain"

 In the hospital I used a wheelchair all the time except when I wanted to try a lap around the hall. My broken pelvis, that had two large screws put in it right at the beginning, and was in excruciating pain whenever I attempted to move. But I'm not one to sit still, so I was constantly trying these laps and I never used the wheelchair once they let me leave the hospital.

So I continued outpatient rehab several days a week, and continued to have surgery, mostly on my left arm. Conveniently, Portland State University is fairly close to Legacy, and I was able to only take one term off of school. By winter term, with a lighter class load, I was back at it. Arm in a sling and all. My dad very very graciously took on the roll of my taxi driver, taking me to and from doctors appointments, classes, and surgeries.

Sometimes the double vision was too much to handle

Having lost pieces of my bone with the compound fracture of my left arm, we had a really hard time getting it to heal. My amazing surgeon, kept adding more metal to try to give it support. I had a bone graft, skin graft, and 11 screws and three plates put into that arm.

I used a bone stimulator for 20 minutes every morning for over a year trying to get that baby to grow. I drank protein drinks and tried everything I could!

 I once even had surgery on the day of my brother's soccer game. Not wanting to miss the game, my dad brought my wheelchair for me to sit in and the boys made an amazing sign for me.

The support I received was undeniably amazing and definitely helped with my recovery.

I started running again as soon as I was able. My first run back at it was 5 months after the date of the crash, I ran 0.7 miles and I felt so so good. I kept running, kept improving and pushing myself, and 8 months after my accident I ran 5 miles. Just under a year after, I ran over 9.

Second run post accident!

Just under one year after the accident

Giving up felt like it would be so much harder than challenging myself and pushing myself to improve and get back to the me I was before the crash. So I pushed, and I fought, and I got better. It wasn't a miracle, it was extremely hard work on my part and on that of all my incredible medical staff and support crew. 

I took on a few projects at Portland State, I completed an Honors Thesis while working with OPB which can be viewed here: https://www.opb.org/television/programs/ofg/episodes/3008/

I looked at microplastics in rivers around Oregon and I presented my findings at the Western Society of Naturalists conference in Tacoma, Washington in the fall of 2018. 

One year after my bone graft I was able to start giving blood again; I do it as regularly and as often as I can now, because I took so much O+ blood from the blood bank, that I think it only fair for me to give that to someone else who needs it more than I do now. I was actually so excited to give blood that my heart rate was too high and I had to relax for a few minutes to let it get back to normal!!

It took me a little while to get used to some of my new scars, but I got over it, and learned to love them just like my tattoos since they are both body art and expressions of my journey.

My residual consequences are so slight it's honestly mind-blowing. After months of vision therapy, I don't even wear glasses anymore. My vocal cords don't close properly, most likely because of the prolonged use of breathing and feeding tubes, but that only causes me to choke on water very occasionally and my voice to be slightly breathy, especially when I think something is hilarious. My pupils are often dilated differently due to my TBI, but my eyes are not sensitive to light or anything else. I think my body knows how much I rely on it being in optimal condition, and it worked with me to get back to my best.

In my way of thinking, it only seems fair. The more immense joy and happiness and crazy experiences you have, the more you need some bad, negative things to happen as well. It's all about balance. I also feel like everything bad that happened to me was just at, but not past any of my breaking points. Things were sad and hard and painful, but nothing was any more that what I could handle. And that feels like an immense blessing. I am so much stronger because of this happening and now I know what I can handle. 

Maya Angelou's poem "Still I rise" was posted in my hospital rooms as I had gotten that quote tattooed on my arm just a couple of months prior to the accident. 

I made the decision to still rise, just like her, and I hope you do too.