Life has a way of teaching you the lesson you need to learn.

So, two days after getting back from Nigeria, I was riding my e-bike home from the gym, full of enthusiasm and vigor, then WHAM. I got hit at an intersection and launched off my bike.

I was able to stop drop & roll my way through the contact harnessing my past football playing abilities that have layed dormant the last 6 years and immediately sprung up and waved down the elderly Hispanic woman who had hit me to the side of the road so I could get her information. 

At this point I was disoriented and somewhat in fight or flight. I took a picture of her insurance card while she sat in the car crying because she too was in shock at how handsome I am even after sustaining impact from a 2018 Ford Explorer.

For some reason, I felt like I had done something wrong, so I didn't want to stick around and call the police to file a report. In hindsight, that probably wasn't my best decision, but that's a deeper conversation for another day.

When I got home as the adrenaline started to wear off different parts of my body began throbbing, especially the right side of my head. (And yes, before you ask, I wasn't wearing a helmet. I am, in fact, a literal knucklehead.)

So I did the sensible thing: I took a shower and laid down on my floor.

After calling a few people, everyone told me I should go to the ER that night. But, staying true to the theme of this story, my knuckleheadedness prevailed. I reasoned that I would be in the ER all night sitting in pain as a cast of characters would continually flow in from Friday night activities. 

So I went to bed.

To be honest, it was one of the most painful nights I've ever experienced. The next morning, I Ubered to urgent care, and that's when the real journey began. They ran scans and came back telling me I had fractured my C6 vertebra. They immediately put me in a neck brace and instructed me not to move(I literally ubered there). A few minutes later, they informed me I would be transported by ambulance to the main hospital. Naturally, I asked if I could just take another Uber instead to save money(my body was already hurting there was no point hurting my pockets too)

They said no.

So off I went in an ambulance.

For the next two days, I sat in a hospital bed parked in the ER hallway. It felt like I was living inside an episode of Grey's Anatomy. I saw gunshot wounds, stabbings, severe burns, crazy stuff. Meanwhile, I was sitting there in a hospital gown with my buttcheeks hanging out sipping apple juice.

The first round of scans eventually disproved the vertebra fracture, which was a huge relief because spinal injuries are no joke. At this point, my neck, back, collarbone, and head all hurt, but I could still move around. Then came the second round of scans. Now they were telling me both sides of my collarbone were fractured and that I would need surgery first thing in the morning.

The next morning arrived. They marked my shoulders where the incisions would be, took all my belongings, and for five hours I sat there genuinely terrified, thinking I was about to be wheeled into surgery. Eventually, a nurse came and said they wanted to run more scans. By this point, my brother and friend Bui had made it in town to be with me, which made me feel a lot better.

I was told surgery was definitely happening the following morning.

Next day came the doctor walked in and essentially said:

"You know what? Never mind."

No surgery.

No broken collarbones.

Just take some oxycodone, muscle relaxers, sit down somewhere for two months, and you'll be fine.

To this day, I am still confused by the entire experience.

What it did give me, though, was a new perspective on the challenges facing our healthcare system. I can confidently say I never want to be admitted to a hospital again. If necessary, I will learn how to stitch myself back together.

So it's been about a month since the accident.

And if you know me, you know fitness is a huge part of my life. Before all this happened, I was working out twice a day. Going from that level of activity to doing absolutely nothing has been incredibly difficult.

But over time I've been trying to receive the lesson.

Slow doesn't mean bad. Slow is simply an opportunity to spend more time just being.

I feel a lot better today than I did a month ago, and the reality is that things could have gone much differently. A few inches, a slightly different angle, a little more speed and my life could have changed forever. Honestly, after the way I got launched off that e-bike and hit my head on the pavement, I probably shouldn't be here.

But I am.

I will wear a helmet moving forward. I will be more vigilant. I promise.

What a blessing it is to have a body that can repair itself.

What a blessing it is to have people who genuinely care about my well-being.

What a blessing it is to wake up each day with another opportunity to live.

I am grateful.