Damaged Goods: A story of the most horrifying moment of my life.

"I have to stand up."

In terms of a thought that may sadistically infringe into your consciousness, this may be one of the most desperately inhumane things you could ever tear your heart into taking as a reality—especially while underwater—especially with a broken neck.

Going over the falls of a modestly sized right-breaker is usually something a guy born and raised in the beach communities of Orange County and Los Angeles wouldn’t even think twice of; a guy like me. However, that same guy will have more than a few endless thoughts as a result from an endless summer.

It happened July 1 of this summer.

  

A moment before the horrific thought of being dysfunctional from the neck down entered my wide-eyed naivety, I landed—neck first—with my body toppling over me onto the concrete hard, packed sand below. I heard, and felt, a violent snap that left my psyche paralyzed from a thought that my body was paralyzed from a break.

"I have to stand up."

It was instantaneous. Nothing else existed other than that impulse. “Fight or flight” had taken over every cell in my body. It was surreal. It was scary.

I stood up.

I stood and walked, at least 50 steps, through knee-deep water to the sand before me, screaming for bloody mercy, while dozens of people stood, stared, and watched. I could not believe the indifference on their faces.

I trip? Paralyzed, at least. A wave behind me crashes on or near me?  You get the picture. Still, the guy screaming, “I hit my neck, please help me, please,” was forced to walk to a stranger and ask to be taken to a lifeguard.

I will never forget the 5’3” female lifeguard who had to stabilize the neck of a standing six-and-a-half-footer. She was outstanding, and I just might owe my life to her.

Don't worry though; those bystanders—all saints at the end of it. Once my neck was stabilized with a brace,  and I was on a gurney, the uninterested crowd became very concerned. They surrounded me, pointed, took pictures, and crowded the situation before I was ambulanced to the emergency room.

Surely I’m now in countless facebook albums entitled “This dude got messed up at Salt Creek!! We thought he was dead!!! But he wasn’t :((( LAME!”.

Anyway, when you spend three nights in the hospital and seemingly every single doctor in the Western Hemisphere walks into your room just to emphasize how truly lucky you are, you shouldn't have too much to complain about, right?

I guess this is what they were talking about—only 3% of all cervical fractures (“broken neck” all fancied up) result in a non-spinal-cord-injury, according to the Medical Disability Guide, leaving the trauma victim with complete functionality of their body.

The same study concluded that of the 11,000 cases of cervical fractures in the U.S. per year, roughly 6,000 result in death and 5,000 become quadriplegic.

Perspective.

I am especially lucky in this case because of the walking I did on my fractured C7 vertebra before it was stabilized. This greatly increased the chance of a cord injury.

I feel like I won the California Lottery but kind of bummed it wasn’t the Mega Millions.

Since the accident, I’ve been flooded with new information about cervical fractures everyday. A new finding of the medical condition states, “We are very proud of you and love you very, very much,” according to a text from my mom.

And as my mom would tell you, I am a neurotic, anxiety filled young man with plenty of demons. This summer changed me in many ways.

But perhaps no change is more prevalent than taking on a new perspective and learning about a me that I never knew existed.

I looked death in the face for the first time ever this summer, but I didn’t lie down.  I stood up.