Emotions
The view from a wheelchair

Chaz was injured in a tragic, freak accident. Here is his story.

“Two years ago, I had just turned 23. I was a highly active surfer, hiker, poet, skateboarder, skier and beachcomber. I just finished my bachelor's degree and was taking a few courses on Web design and development. I saved just enough money to enjoy a few months of the sand, sun and surf.

An overall easy-going and curious guy, I quickly became familiar with the island. I picked up a few freelance Web design clients, which allowed me to adapt my work schedule around the tides, the sun and the swells. I'd never been in better shape. I was enjoying spending time with my girlfriend, surfing and reading.

On August 10 I caught up a few early chest-high swell breaks, enjoyed breakfast with my girlfriend, then went back to the beach. It was a clear, sunny day. The beach was packed. After chatting with the lifeguards, I dove into a chest-high wave. My legs were kicked out from underneath me. I was hurled into a strange position. My head bumped into a rogue sandbar. After some strange electric shock-like sensations, I lost all feeling and movement below my neck.

I was floating face down being tossed by the incoming tide. I was rescued, harnessed to a stretcher, and airlifted to Boston Medical Center. My family arrived and was told that I had shattered by fourth and fifth cervical vertebrae bruised my spinal column. If I survived, I would never walk or live independently.

For the next month I fought for my life. I was dependent on machines for nutrition and oxygen. I could not speak, drink water, or eat. I couldn’t move any muscles below my neck.

After my temperature stabilized, I was flown to a catastrophic care center in Denver where I fought to get off a ventilator and to deal with many complications of my injury; the loss of sensation, bowel/bladder sexual function and pain.

After two months I was flown home to my parent’s house. We had old donated medical equipment. My world had turned completely upside down. I lost my girlfriend, apartment, finances, all the activities that I loved, employment opportunities and many friends. I was depressed.

Everyday I worked towards small goals: feeding myself, working on my computer, reading a book and using my arm to move my wheelchair. I’d been told I’d have to blow into a tube to get it to move. I redirected my anger. Finally, I could control my electric wheelchair with minimal movement in my upper arm.

But that was at home. My social life also changed 100%. I went from dancing and smiling at everyone to hiding from people. I noticed how people reacted to my injury. I was no longer broad shouldered, strong, and active. Now I was vulnerable, weak and disabled.

Young people who admired my skill in skating and surfing now stared at me. I tried going to concerts but I was treated like a slow moving barrier. I heard people say, "That big chair is getting in my way.” Others blocked my view without regard.

The social stigmas I face seem endless. I find that kids who once smiled at me now cower behind their mothers and fathers. They stare at me in bewilderment. Kids don’t know what to say. I’ve tried smiling and being friendly but the wheelchair speaks louder than I.

Many of the bars, jazz clubs, concert halls and bookstores that I loved are no longer accessible. Now I spend my time reading philosophy, spirituality and psychology. I visualize, write and meditate to deal with my frustration.

I am in an intensive exercise regime, which aids in blood circulation, reduces muscle spasms and nerve pain. I work out five days a week to keep my body loose enough to function and be able to work on the computer.

I am actively involved in an online support and cure research group called the Carecure Community. On my Web site/blog I share my experiences, thoughts, keep track of research data, and maintain relationships.

I know that the central nervous system can and will be regenerated. Scientists have healed the injured spines of rats and within the next few years will bring their studies to humans. Few people, even those who are injured, are aware of the research. I want to spread the word.

In April the Carecure Community rallied in Washington, DC for the passage of the Christopher Reeve Paralysis Act. My family and I met Senator's Kerry and John McCain, Dana Reeves, and Dr. Wise Young. This Act is an important piece of legislation. It needs to be passed. The longer the bill sits in committee, the longer we sit in wheelchairs.

Until the day I can stand beside my brother, hug my mother and father, I plan on spending every waking minute spreading awareness to help make paralysis a thing of the past.”