“Adventure” is the word that best sums up my first eight months of 2015. That’s when I tried out for roller derby, flew down a zip line, paddled canoes, kayaks and dragon boats, took my first solo ski run, hiked on Mount St. Helens, played my African hand drum around a campfire surrounded by buckskin-wearing friends, camped in a tipi, slept on a sailboat and celebrated my birthday by shooting a bow at an archery range.
But since Sept. 5, “adventure” was replaced by a new word: “gratitude.”
I was driving a four-wheeler over sage-scented hills in Eastern Oregon and savoring the view of the Elkhorn Mountains blanketed in the season’s first snow. That early snow had changed our plans to hike to an alpine lake. Instead, I had my first experience driving a powerful ATV. As we spooked a herd of elk that crested the hill in front of us, I thought: “What a perfect day!”
Then I reached a bridge with a 30-inch gap down the middle and no guardrail. Rather than wait a few minutes for my experienced mountain-man boyfriend to catch up with me, I decided I could cross the bridge all by myself.
When I was almost across, one of my front wheels fell into the center gap. As the ATV began to fall, I instinctively grabbed the handlebars — and therefore, the throttle — which means it sped up.
Catapulting over the handlebars, I somersaulted through the air and was thrown across the bridge. I landed — hard — in the road. When I sat up, the ATV had crashed a mere 12 inches from me.
Both wrists were crushed when I fell. Eventually, I required surgery in both wrists to install permanent titanium plates and screws to repair my shattered bones.
It could have been so much worse. If I had veered off the bridge, I would have dropped 15 feet to rocks and the creek below. I could be dead, paralyzed or have a traumatic brain injury.
At first, both arms were in casts. I needed help with almost everything. I could not twist open a door knob, hold a cup or dress myself. I could not hold a phone or a pen or type on a keyboard. I also could not drive. For 11 weeks, I was on temporary disability from my job as a reporter.
Sometimes, bad things happen. That’s life. What I’ve learned in the almost four months since my accident is the importance in keeping a positive attitude. Maintaining an attitude of gratitude has played a vital role as I’ve healed.
Since the beginning of last year, I’ve written in a gratitude journal. Every morning, I write at least three reasons to be grateful. For five weeks after my accident, I couldn’t grip a pen. That was devastating. Writing is how I process my thoughts and make sense of the world. When at last I could hold a pen again, I began writing in my gratitude journal: I am grateful to be alive. I am grateful I can open a door, wash and comb my hair, dress myself, turn on the faucet, hold a fork, tie my shoes.
As I type these words with my left arm still in a cast, I am grateful to be back at work. I am grateful for medical professionals and medical insurance. I am grateful for the friends, family and newsroom colleagues who served as my chauffeurs for almost four months when I could not drive. I am grateful they brought food, drove me to their homes for dinner and phoned to check up on my progress.
I am also grateful that before my accident, I developed the practice of writing in my gratitude journal daily. Throughout my recovery, numerous people have told me: “I’m so inspired by your positive attitude.” I believe that writing reasons to be grateful prevented me from wallowing in despair during the most physically challenging four months of my life. Emphasizing the positive banished negative thoughts and energy.
Consider adopting an attitude of gratitude in 2016. Write your reasons for being grateful in a gratitude journal or on slips of paper dropped into a gratitude jar. Focusing on good things can get you through the inevitable hard times and help you appreciate the good things that come your way.
Although I’ve temporarily hung up my dragon boat paddle and my orthopedic doctor balked when I asked him “what about my ski season?” I am not going to let my accident stop me from having future adventures.
What will my word for 2016 be? My father, who grew up in Kentucky, would say “gaining a lick of common sense, or caution.” But I’m hoping for more adventures — just not on an ATV.
