Before I had my skiing accident that damaged my spinal cord, the only serious challenge I had was what to give up for Lent. The signs were always there that maybe I should not ski. My first attempt ended in a creek. Later attempts found me sprawled on the slopes swiping snow off my face. I quit skiing. However, the mountain beckoned me once again, and I met my future husband when he fell for me. I had knocked him off the T-bar. Skiing profoundly affected my life for both good and bad. I would not be the person I am today had I not skied. I would not have met some amazing patients in rehabilitation: a quadruple amputee, a surfer, Da Lee, my roommate, and Jill, my physical therapist who had a thing for crazy socks. I share their stories as well as my own. My best nurse was a cranky middle-aged woman. My second best nurse was an amusing middle-aged man. Parents of my students visited me and prayers were said for my recovery in churches, temples, and tabernacles. After I was home and had resumed my life as a wife, mother, and teacher, I faced a new challenge, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, an unknown illness at the time. My drug of choice was a Baskin Robbins Cappuccino Blast. Wish it had come with an IV drip. Although my memoir is about the challenges that I had, it is also the story of my love for the man that I swept off his feet.
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