April 21

It's hard to believe, but it has been exactly one year since my injury, so I want to take a look back at what I've learned, and review what I'm looking forward to in the year to come.  I want to write a structured review of everything I've been through, and where I am, and what I'm expecting from the future.  That's what I WANT to do.

Unfortunately, when I try to write that post, that's not what comes out.  I've started to write this post five times, but everything I write sounds meaningless to me.  I don't want to read it myself, and I don't want you to read it.  So instead of the structured, polished overview I wanted to write, I'm going to write what my heart tells me I need to write.

After a year, I am still blown away by the fact that I have survived almost entirely on the support of my friends.  I know I've talked about it before, but my heart tells me I need to repeat it.  When I left the hospital in June of last year, I was terrified I wouldn't be able to survive on my own.  I have never wanted to rely on anyone for anything, and I have never had to.  Now I have to rely on someone for almost everything, and I did not think there was anyone in my life that would be able to give me the amount of help I needed.

All of my friends have done so much to help me through this, and I can't say enough about that, but a lot of the people who have done the done the most, and who have visited me the most consistently are people I would never have suspected a year ago.

David Eads was a guy from work.  We used to discuss automotive repairs and occasionally woodworking.  I think I visited his house once, and I think he came to my house once to help change a wheel bearing on my truck.  For most of the last year, he has brought his wife, Kristen, and small daughter, Lydia, to my apartment every three weeks along with a delicious home-cooked meal.  The Eads' live over 30 minutes away, and I don't know why they are willing to do it, but I really look forward to their company (and food).

Titus and Brittany Bulzan were my next door neighbors before I got hurt.  They are the best neighbors I've ever had, and I still love that they have always just referred to me as "Neighbor".  We've been friends since they moved in, but I never would have guessed they cared about me as much as they do.  A year ago, I would have guessed they would stop visiting after a few months.  They also live about 30 minutes away, but between dinner visits, taking me to doctor appointments, and giving me haircuts, I've seen more of them than just about anybody since my injury.  One of my biggest regrets about getting hurt is that I had to move so far away from them.  When I lived next door, I didn't see them every day, and now I wish I could.

Jimmy and Tobi Nguyen are old friends and former roommates, but we haven't seen much of each other since I moved to North Raleigh 9 years ago.  They are very busy with two very time-consuming little girls, but they have made it their business to help me any way they can, and to make it clear to me that I can count on them for anything I need.  Sometimes they bring me food after the girls have gone to bed, sometimes they take me up to visit the farmer's market, they've taken me to a couple doctor's appointments, and they have helped me with daily living when my regular helpers are away.  Maybe I shouldn't be surprised about the amount of help they've given me, but I guess I assumed they had better things to do with their time.  I'm incredibly grateful for the time they spend with me though.

Gus and Uyen Carey were barely acquaintances a year ago.  I had only met Uyen a couple times, and Gus was primarily the neighbor of a friend.  An improbably nice guy who let us borrow his truck to go to the racetrack, and with whom I had spent a few days at the track, but who I would not have considered a close friend.  We certainly got along, but all we really knew about each other is that we both liked riding motorcycles on the racetrack.

Now, a year later, I can't imagine my life without the Careys.  Gus and Evelyn still come over here at least 5 days a week, often 6.  They treat me better than most people treat their families.  They have done so much for me in the past year that there's no way for me to express my gratitude.  When I think about what they have done for me, it makes my heart hurt.

The greatest gift they Careys have given me is they have taken my fear away.  When they first started taking care of me, I assumed they couldn't possibly keep doing it for a month, or two months.  Now it's almost a year, and they aren't showing signs of stopping.  They're so nonchalant about it, in fact, that it almost makes it easy to take them for granted.  I caught myself starting to think that way this week, and I actually had to remind myself how preposterously lucky I am to have them.  As many problems as I still have, I still think I may be the luckiest paraplegic on earth.

Looks like I didn't finish writing this in time to publish on the 21st, but I guess that's what I felt like I needed to write about.  I know I didn't mention everybody who's helped me, and I didn't mention everybody who has visited me, but these are the people who I would never have guessed a year ago would become as important to me as they are now.

Life is funny, isn't it?