Everything happened so fast. One second I was jamming to music with my twin sister, and the next we were submerged underwater, trapped inside our car. It was a cold December evening, and we were coming home from a party, across one of the biggest bridges of New York, which happened to be the worst decision of my life. I remember almost everything, separated by periodical blackouts, including the horrifying image of my sister's head smashed into the windshield. The roads had been extremely icy that night, and when another car swerved into our lane we had nowhere to go but the inevitable fall off the bridge, into the freezing cold water. The second we hit the water everything went still; my body was numb. I remember crying out for help, as the car sunk deeper and deeper, my mind racing to the conclusion that I would never see my friends or family again. I was trapped. My sister was dead and it was my fault. I chose to take this route, only because it was shorter, knowing that the roads were unsafe. There wasn’t anything I could do to save her at this point, and all I could do was break out of the car. My seatbelt was stuck and after what felt like ages, I just gave up, and everything went black.
The next thing I knew I was wrapped up in a blanket, driving way too fast in an ambulance. Everything came up all at once, all the water that I had swallowed was no longer in my stomach, and it burned as it came up my throat. I couldn’t move my legs. Voices were mumbled all around me, all the way until I got into the hospital and I couldn’t focus on what was being said. Suddenly, it hit me that my sister was dead.
“Hi, I’m David I’ll be your doctor. Sam, I assure you everything is going to be okay. You’re in good hands now, we called your parents and they should be here any minute. We’re sorry to inform you, but your sister didn’t survive the crash, and your legs might not work the way they used to. With therapy…” the doctor continued to ramble on, but after hearing that I wouldn’t be able to move my legs ever again, I didn’t want to hear anymore.
“Did you just say I won’t ever be able to walk again? How do you expect me to go to school or have a social life ever again? I’m not going to be able to play basketball! This all better be a joke!” I screamed, out of complete astonishment. I didn’t even realize how big of a scene I had caused until after it all came out of my mouth. Everyone in the hospital glared at me, but resumed to their business quickly, afraid of what I might do. To be completely honest, I would be scared too.
At that moment, I looked down at my legs and tried to wiggle my toes. I tried with every part of my brain for just a little movement, but I couldn’t do it. This would definitely classify as being the worst day of my life. For almost an hour, I wept until I had no tears left, completely dried out. I never imagined being able to walk again, however the doctors insisted that with intense therapy and multiple surgeries, I would be able to move almost exactly how I could before.
When my parents arrived, they came into the room in tears, which I assumed was because the doctors had informed them about my sister. They ran in, comforting me, as best as they could.“Are you okay honey? I’m so sorry this happened to you. Do you want something to eat? We can go down to the cafeteria if you like, and fix you a snack,” my mother continued to fire questions at me one after another, and right there I realized the doctors didn’t tell her about my legs. They didn’t know what they would have to go through and all the money they would have to spend, if they even agreed to help.
Almost instantly, the doctor rushed in and explained the procedures that needed to be completed before I would regain full function of my legs. At that news, the expected tears, along with the “how could this happen to us” phrases came out, but after some time they agreed to do everything in order to help me.
The first surgery was the longest, and came with the greatest amount of pain, however it gave me most of the function back in my legs. After constant, strenuous procedures, I was finally ready to go to therapy.
On the first day, I noticed a tall, handsome brunette standing in the back of the room. I could see his smile across the room, it was white and the light bounced off his teeth so perfectly. It looked as though he was there for the same thing I was: to get control back of his legs. As calm as a could, I stumbled over towards him, but being the clutz I am, I tripped and landed face first, my glasses shattering under me. Imagine the worst case scenario, and multiply it by 10, because what happened next was horrifying. Since I hadn’t really gotten used to walking again on my legs yet, I couldn’t stand up. He had to help me off of the ground, when I finally mustered up the courage to say, “Hi I’m Sam sorry for all that I can be quite clumsy sometimes.” I giggled like a little girl, quickly realizing it, embarrassed.
When I looked up, he flashed me his gorgeous smile and pronounced, “Hey I’m Ethan, nice to meet you. Are you here for physical therapy too?”
“Yeah I just got in a car accident and the doctors are trying to give me all the function of my legs back, but obviously it isn’t working too well.” I chuckled a little at my own stupid remark.
“Oh really? I actually got into a water skiing accident, where another boat cut off my leg. This one’s fake if you didn’t notice but basically works the same.”
I actually hadn't noticed it before, but up close it was clear that he was missing his leg. It made me realize how lucky I am to not only have survived, but also been able to keep both my legs, and it made me feel guilty for the outburst that had happened in the hospital, weeks before. “I’m sorry to hear that, so I’m guessing you really liked to water ski before?”
“Yeah, it was one of my favorite things to do, but now I don’t really have that option, if you know what I mean. Everything here is on a schedule, which is so frustrating. I just like being able to go out and choose what I get to do, or even what I get to eat. I really miss it.”
“I completely know what you mean. People have been controlling everywhere I go, whether it’s the operating room or the cafeteria, but I don’t get any say in what I get to do or when I get to do it.”
For hours, we talked about our futures and what it was like to live in the hospital, and laughed until we couldn’t breathe. Through this long experience, I was able to find a friend, as well as someone that pushed me all the way through my physical therapy. After a couple months, I completely regained full motion in my legs, and even returned to playing basketball. My life went right back to the way it had been before, and I could do everything, alongside my new best friend, Ethan.