1: From Humble Beginnings…

I've decided to write a blog; I've also decided that it's rather difficult. Of all the many things I could write about, nothing seems to come to mind in this particular moment.  I mean, I don't want to be one of those people that writes about their trip to the grocery store (unless something amazing happened) or the wonderful bowel movement they just had (even if something amazing happened, I think I'd skip that!). So instead, I guess I should just start from the beginning.

My name is Alexa and I'm a quadriplegic. Man, it sounds like I'm at an AA meeting! But really, I'm paralyzed from the neck down and I breathe using a ventilator. Two years ago last September I was in a car accident: he crossed three lanes of traffic to hit me head-on, and I wasn't wearing my seatbelt, so between the two it was a pretty bad accident for me. I could be the poster child for kids needing to wear their seat belts!

In the accident I sustained some relatively minor injuries, and then one very major one: my spinal cord was damaged at C1, so right at the base of my brain. It's the highest place someone can get a spinal cord injury (SCI). Well, I never did anything unless it was 100%! So my spinal cord wasn't completely severed, but it's considered a "complete" injury to the cord because the chances of getting better on my own are extremely unlikely. Definitely still dealing with that idea two years later.

But I don't actually want this blog to be all maudlin and depressing; if I want it to be enlightening and  enjoyable, overall. I want to tell everyone about "The Quad Squad," which consists of me (obviously), as well as my family, my friends, my nurses, and my many pets! Sometimes I'll be giving you info about my day-to-day life as a quadriplegic – which often is pretty boring, so I may skip a lot! – and others I will recount what I think to be interesting/funny/thought-provoking/anything else you can think of experiences. For those curious, I guess  some of this first blog will  be more serious, as I'll tell you about my accident.

I was on my way to school on September 4, 2014, when, as I mentioned, I was in a head-on collision. At that point, almost the entire week previous and the following 2 1/2 weeks I do not remember, so I can only truly relate what happened based on what other people have told me. I technically did not come out of that collision alive: the shock to my spinal cord when my neck snapped was so sharp that my heart immediately stopped, having gotten the signal from my spine that, "Oh hey, I think we are dead now! Better stop!" I was incredibly lucky to have an EMT team that had mad skills; I've actually had other EMTs say that they would not have been able to bring me back. But these guys did: they got my heart to start beating again, and rushed me to the hospital.

Apparently, upon arriving at the trauma hospital, my heart stopped again, and the doctors performed an emergency thoracotomy: they literally stuck their fingers between my ribs and massaged my heart until it restarted! I know, crazy cool, right? By this point my brain had been without oxygen for several minutes, especially right after the crash. While they weren't thinking about it just then, the doctors would later assume it likely that I would have no brain function if I woke up, if I woke up at all. I went immediately in for some exploratory and other surgeries, to find out why my heart had stopped. They actually wouldn't find out for a little while, as there were no indicators of spinal cord damage other than a cracked vertebrae, which happens all the time without people sustaining SCIs as well.

I am mostly going to do this first blog from my point of view (kind of, since I don't remember much!). I only mean that I will get into the rest of The Quad Squad's experiences with this at another time. In the meantime, I left off where I was on the operating table. Well, they got me stable, though still classified as critical, and told my parents that if worst came to worst I would never wake up again as I was in a coma. My mom refused to believe them, and that night sometime after midnight, when it was officially September 5, which is coincidentally my mom's birthday, I apparently opened my eyes. My mom was the only one there, and while I couldn't say anything for the tubes stuck down my throat, she swears she saw recognition in my eyes. She told the doctors this, but they had a hard time believing her, not seeing it for themselves. It was only after a few days, when the expression on my face showed that I was apparently exceedingly angry that they were ignoring me, as far as I was concerned, that they realized I was actually aware of my surroundings. From then on, they included me in their medical conversations.

What else can I say? I got a fusion surgery, from the base of my skull to my C2 vertebrae, a tracheostomy, where they put a tube down my throat for me to breathe with permanently, so they don't have to be in my mouth where I can't talk, and they gave me my prognosis. While I did stay in the trauma hospital for three weeks, I'll get into that later. The next time you'll hear from me, the blog will be about my parents and friends during this trying time, and how for the most part they were all a bunch of bad-asses. Crying bad-asses, but bad-asses nonetheless.

Until our next meeting! And in the words of one of my favorite fictional characters, "And so we go!"