On breaking your neck...
It's been nine weeks. Nine weeks since I lay staring at the ground, struggling for breath, hearing my own strangled sounds of pain. I knew I would be OK. I just needed to breath, and everything would be OK. I didn't realize that my past and future had just been in a violent physical collision. I breathed. I managed to sit up. The world got brighter. I lay daydreaming in the hospital. My narcotic haze was pierced by words I heard in the hallway. "Fractured." "Pneumo." The doctor stepped in. He looked right at me. "You have two fractures in your neck. You have a fracture in your back. You have multiple rib fractures and a pneumothorax in your right lung. You must be a very tough guy." I didn't feel tough. Fear welled up in a way I'd never felt before. Breaking your neck isn't something that happens to me - that's for other people. People who know how to live in wheelchairs, people who know how