I Was Disabled in a Car Crash, Then My Partner Left Me
*Names have been changed for privacy
In April of 2022, I was hit by a drunk driver on my way home from Easter dinner. My car rolled and my life was changed immediately.
Prior to the accident I worked two jobs, I was a preschool teacher during the week and a bartender on the weekends. I was also an online undergraduate student majoring in public health. I did gymnastics, and specialized in aerial silk. My life was busy, well-rounded and fulfilling.
I had been dating my girlfriend Willow* for five months when the accident happened. I was immediately forced to move in with Willow and her parents. In the initial few weeks after the accident, I had severe vertigo and nausea. I couldn’t shower by myself because I was prone to collapsing. I couldn’t lift my arms or bend my neck, so putting on a shirt by myself was impossible. The pain in my neck and back was so severe that I couldn’t sleep. I was a miserable mess.
I would eventually find out, after many X Rays, MRIs, and check ups, that I did not have any broken bones, but I suffered from three herniated discs in my spine. I had severe whiplash in my neck and my lower back was strained. Also, I had a concussion that would develop into post-concussion syndrome over the next few weeks. In some ways, it was a miracle. I had rolled my car and was able to walk away. But, my body still felt ruined. The chronic pain I was in felt so permanent. The doctors were uncertain if I would recover back to my “normal.”
I had to quit my bartending job and I asked for leave of absence from the preschool. Unfortunately, the private school I worked for did not have short-term disability insurance. I only had a week’s worth of PTO for the school year, so I was forced to go back to work.
Teaching four year olds is a very physical job. It involves sitting on the floor, bending down to pick up toys, and sometimes doing silly dances. Of course, I couldn’t do any of those things anymore. I was stiff and I felt like I had a hot metal rod crushing my spine.
My insurance considered my 2007 Nissan XTerra to only be worth $6,500. Unfortunately, that is not enough to buy a used car in today’s market. Willow and I looked all over the Dallas metroplex, and even the barely-running cash cars started $9000. Willow reassured me that I could live with her family as long as I wanted and I could save money for a car. In the meantime, she didn’t mind taking me to work and doctor’s appointments.
On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I went to physical therapy. On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays I rotated between seeing my neurologist, my pain specialist, and my primary care doctor. The muscle relaxers I had been prescribed made me drowsy, but didn’t offer much pain relief. (Ironically, I would not be offered an opioid pain killer until after my suicide attempt a few months later.)
By the end of the summer, I had developed Sciatica, an extreme form of nerve pain. I was so debilitated, and had so many procedures ahead of me that I had to quit my teaching job and take an incomplete in my college classes.
I lost so many parts of my identity. I was a teacher. I was a gymnast. I was a college student. I was healthy. I was a sexual being. Most importantly, I was independent and I lived alone. I had to give up all of these identities after the accident.
Then, on a Friday night, without any warning, Willow dumped me.
It was shocking because I was so certain she loved me. After all, she had taken such good care of me. She drove me to every doctor’s appointment, she helped me get dressed when I couldn’t move my arm, she even offered to help me buy a new car. You wouldn’t do all that for someone you didn’t love, right? There was never a conversation of, where is this relationship going? It was just over.
I will never stop wondering: was it my body? Was I not sexual enough for her anymore? I had lost so much strength since the accident that we weren’t having the athletic sex we were use to. Was it my mood? I was always too tired or too irritable from my chronic pain to do much more than watch TV. Was it my life? Every week was so stressful, talking to attorneys, talking to doctors, scheduling procedures. I didn’t have time to go to concerts or travel, I was just trying to survive.
My best friend from my hometown moved to Dallas to take care of me. We were able to find a sublet on Facebook marketplace and I moved my entire life again.
It has been months since the accident, and I am still impacted by it. Currently, I attend a chiropractor, a pain specialist, a neurologist and do physical therapy from home regularly. I have been put under anesthesia three times for procedures and injections. I’m afraid I still have a lot of healing to do. I still grieve. I grieve for my body, my relationship, and my life before the accident.
This isn’t a story of recovery, but a story of survival. I am still pacing myself day by day, and holding onto the hope that, “things will work out because they have to.”
