After Mass, I went to go hangout with my friends Angelo and William. That was the last memory I recall from that day. I can’t really recall what happened afterwards, but I was confused in a hospital bed and my family surrounding me with worried, yet somewhat happy looks on their faces.
I never realized I had been in a near death crash until I was informed by my family a couple days after I had been extubated and woken from my induced coma. It turns out I was in a coma for a week. Boom… time travel. My only memories from being in the ICU were seeing my friends and family, eating tacos, taking medicine, constantly seeing medical personnel and making strenuous efforts to relieve my bladder. For some peculiar reason, I could not urinate. I don’t know whether it was my position, or brain, or medications, but I just couldn’t and I even tried to stand to pee into the urinal cup. When I stood, I knew then that something was definitely wrong. My balance was off and my legs trembled to something as simple as standing. My legs gave way and I crumbled to the floor and all of the sudden it became a huge situation to the people and staff around me. I was carefully escorted back into my bed and I was sad at my unsuccessful attempt to relieve myself.
You may think to yourself, “Why is he talking about his attempt to take a piss? Gross.” Too bad. IDGAF. The fact of the matter is, this is the point where I realized the severity of my injury. Although I had years of martial arts training, all of the sudden I had no leg strength and balance. And after I fell, the immediate and worried response of the nurses and my family alarmed me. All I could think about in bed was “What happened to the big, strong fighter I knew myself as?” Something definitely bad happened to me.
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