Wait! Did I just refer to the day I (almost) died as normal?

I guess the day started off normal.
At least we all thought that as I left for work after giving my kid bro a hug, little did we know our worlds were about to change FOR.EV.ER.

I worked my last shift at the JCPenney salon as a receptionist, after work I had an appointment at the dealership, I had a new used SRT4, and there was something wrong. After working my last shift, I headed to the dealership with a guy friend who was knowledgeable about cars, not saying I didn’t know my shit……
After the appointment I dropped him home and decided I’d swing by the salon to meet a coworker for a cigarette break.

My story told by mother, ma “Rita”

December 4, 2006, at age 18, Nina’s life changed forever. Our last conversation before her car accident was at around 6:00pm. She was dropping a friend at home and stopping by the Florida Mall to visit her co-workers at the JC Penney beauty salon, then heading home.

At around 6:45pm, I received a phone call from a total stranger, using what I thought was Nina’s cell phone, telling me Nina had been in a car accident. At first I thought it was a sick joke then, as more details were provided, I realized it was true. When I asked the stranger to put Nina on the phone, she said, “Ma’am, you better get here quick. She just shut her eyes.” I later found out that the stranger had picked up Nina’s broken phone, popped out the SIM card, put it in her phone, scrolled down to “mom” and helped get us to where we needed to be.

 

 

 

With my calm husband, Jim, at the wheel, and my two younger children, Christina and Daniel, in the back seat holding hands and praying, we set off to the Florida Mall. What we were about to see would be the beginning of a whirlwind of events for the evening and many days to come. Nina’s car had t-boned a tree, the top of it had been cut off to get her out, her blood was splattered on the steering wheel, and Nina was no longer at the scene. When I asked the state trooper where she was he told me she had been airlifted to Orlando Regional Medical Center. “Is she okay?!,” I wanted to know. “She’s alive,” was all he could tell me.

 

 

Back in our vehicle again on the way to ORMC, I called the ER to get more information. They had no one by her name. We arrived at ORMC at around 8:00pm and just as we were pulling in I received a phone call from ER that my daughter was in surgery and could I get there quickly so they could get medical information. “Yes! We are here now! She’s allergic to Penicillin! Is she okay?!” Again, “She’s alive,” was all I was told.

 

We waited for what seemed like days for details of her condition. My sisters and Nina’s friends started to filter in during the evening and fill the tiny room we had been asked to wait in. Finally, at around 11:00pm, the doctor came to talk to us. Nina had been resuscitated on the way to the hospital. She had suffered multiple fractures…her cheek, jaw, clavicle, pelvis…she bit off part of her tongue…she’d had a splenectomy, her lungs and liver were bruised…and worst of all, she had a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI) of the right brain stem, hemorrhaging in her front lobe and a C-2 fracture. She was in critical condition and they had done everything they could to stabilize her but her prognosis was very grim.

 

 

We were shocked and trying to grasp the reality of what was happening. And we still hadn’t seen her. I kept thinking, once I see her she’ll be okay. I just need to see her.   Finally, around 2:00am, my husband and I were escorted to her bedside. Nothing could have prepared us for what we were about to see. Nina’s head was swollen beyond recognition, her beautiful face was bruised and cut, and still had shards of glass embedded in it, her hair was matted with blood. I’d heard of people being put on life support, but here was my daughter…being kept alive by a machine. It was unbearable.

 

 

Now the waiting began. Every minute she was alive I believed was a miracle, that there was hope. But, by the afternoon following the accident, after being given only brief visits to her bedside in an effort to keep her erratic blood pressure under control, the Neurosurgeon came to talk to me. He told me to prepare myself because he did not think she would make it. “Not sure she’ll make it? But she made it through the night, that has to be good, right? Can you fix her, please?” He started to explain the importance of the brain stem…it controls the breathing, the heart…I know he said more but by this time my knees buckled under me and I was sobbing my heart out.  A nurse started making phone calls for me to my husband and my sisters so they could come and we could say good bye.

 

Back by Nina’s side, I began pleading out loud to God not to take her. “She has just begun to live, her sister and brother need her, my kids are supposed to change the world and make it a better place…I can’t bear to lose her.”I cried, I begged, I asked my mother in heaven (Nina’s beloved “Nonna”) not to let this happen….then….I started thinking. Nina was always interested in medical shows on TV (the real life, graphic kind…they made me cringe) and we had a conversation recently about letting people go. We had agreed if the doctors, and more importantly, if we were convinced that we should let go, then we shouldn’t make a loved one linger for our own needs. I recalled during the conversation thinking life would follow a natural progression and I would be the one going, never my own child. But with our conversation in mind, I said, “Nina…if you have to go, go. Go to Nonna, she’ll be waiting for you. But if you can stay with me, please stay.”  She squeezed my hand! I told the nurse but she said it was a reflex and that it would continue to happen until she passed. I looked at Nina and her nose flared ever so slightly and I knew she didn’t like that comment. Somehow I knew it wasn’t time for her to go. I had no idea how long she would be in a coma or what she would be like when she came out of it, but I knew she was staying.

 

While she was hospitalized, then in a “nursing home” and finally a Brain Injury Rehab Center, our family and Nina’s friends were steady in taking turns staying by her side. Keeping a journal, we implemented a schedule for massages, passive motion to keep her muscles from atrophy, reflexology to trigger neurons to the brain and welcomed Reiki healers to perform holistic healing. Equally, if not more important, we prayed and we talked to her.

 

 

Nina’s realm of caring people was a mosaic of many walks, representing many faiths. I received phone calls frequently from friends, neighbors, acquaintances through my children, etc., all asking, how can I help, what can I do? My request was simple yet strong, “if you pray, please pray for her.”  I felt, and will always know, that in a time as desperate as ours, the goodness of each our faiths was blended for one common goal: bring Nina back to us. And while this was going on, she gradually came out of the coma.

 

 

As time passed, the outside of her body healed and her face was as beautiful as it was before the accident. She managed to breathe on her own again and her blood pressure was controlled with medication. I thought, the best thing I could do for Nina was to learn and train as much as I could so I could take care of her and help her get better when she came home. And she would get better if I had anything to do with it. We took her home on March 15, 2007, still extremely weak from being in a coma, and she started a new life with a TBI which paralyzed her left side and severely impaired her speech.

 

After a short time of home therapy, Nina started the next phase at an out-patient rehab facility. Each day, each week, each month, she got a fraction better. Within a year, she was prescription free…including the heart medication that we were told she would probably always need.

 

 

As time goes on, her determination and hard work, combined with the expertise of numerous therapists at various stages of the recovery process, have pulled her forward to a level that no one could have imagined. She is gradually taking control of her left side again, one tiny piece at a time. It has been a slow, exhausting process, but she has never said “never” to getting better even when some doctors and an occasional therapist have.

Now, she musters up all her strength to speak and when she can’t, she uses technology to do it for her. Her questions and plans have helped her when she reached plateaus and she worked right through them, never considering that was the end of the battle. She has a devoted rehab physician and a skilled acupuncturist/herbalist. Aquatic therapy and equestrian therapy have helped significantly, and undergoing steady chiropractic care has done wonders in correcting her neck and spine. Her family and friends have rallied around her and never given up. And nothing is greater than divine intervention.

We are approaching the fourth anniversary of Nina’s accident. Each year we have a big party and “Celebrate Life.“ We briefly look back to remind us of how far she has come, then we look forward because, as Nina quotes from a song, “Victory’s within the mile.” We especially like to do this…while she is walking.

Veni, Vidi, Vici (I came, I saw, I conquered)

Is how I’m living. Let me show you how to shine.