...angels

[Pony]

Angels


It had only been a few days since my doctor confirmed my suspicion that I would never walk again.  From the moment he uttered the words, “No Tony, this is permanent!,” it was a different world.  Up until then I really thought my paralysis was temporary.  They had told me once the bruising went down on my Spinal Cord I would regain my sensation and movement. or at least that’s what I thought they said.  Maybe I just heard what I wanted, or maybe they wanted to wait until I had recovered more before hitting me with the hard news. It had been a month since the car wreck that almost killed me, and I was just as paralyzed as that first night.  

Now it was clear to me. This was forever. It scared me to think how all this would play out. I mean my hands didn’t work, no sensation from collar bone down, couldn’t move myself whatsoever. If it all stayed like this, I couldn’t imagine having a life outside a nursing home at 21. A nurse told me I’d drive again, and that gave me some hope of normalcy, but at this point it seemed unlikely.

I was laying there alone in the dark of my hospital room that night, flat of my back, staring at the ceiling. What had I done to myself? What had I done to deserve this life sentence? How will I live in society? Will girls ever find me attractive again? A million questions ran through my mind. The impact was hitting me like nothing I’d ever felt. This was surreal.

I began to cry. I cursed my stupidity for driving drunk that night. Out of control, I lay there sobbing, trying to make sense of this where there was none. Sometimes things just happen in life. There’s no master plan. It wasn’t orchestrated by someone in the sky for me to break my neck. If you take reckless risks, then most likely something bad will happen. Sometimes, they just happen anyway, but driving drunk as hell with no seatbelt on is more than reckless, it’s asking for it. I never imagined anything this bad, but here I was. There was no taking that decision back.

As I lay crying, and choking, and muttering to myself, I felt a man’s hand on my forehead. A man’s voice followed. “It’ll be ok, son. You’re going to be alright,” he repeated over and over in a slow reassuring manner until my sobs turned to breathing. I couldn’t really see the man because of my flat position. so I have no idea what he looked like. Plus, it was dark. But I wanted to believe him, and so his voice was something to hang on to.

Here’s this stranger who must’ve heard me while passing my room, and knowing nothing about the circumstances I faced, reaching out to do the only thing that could be done- just offer words of hope. Simple words, really.

I didn’t need someone else crying, or asking questions, just hope.

Was he an angel? Maybe. He could’ve been.

Well, this figure of a man touching me with his hand and voice in my darkest hour most surely was an angel. I believe he was a man who cared enough to help calm a young man in a dire situation. Not an angel that appeared from heaven. No, just an angel from our world.

There have been so my angels that have touched me since my 2nd life started as a quadriplegic. So many have shown up at the right time to offer me a hand, or strength, or hope. They were all human- human angels. They’re the kind of angels I believe in.

They have made me want to be an angel to others. And so I have that distinction, too.

It’s empowering to be an angel to someone else. It’s love, really.