Today is November 7. For just about everybody in this country, it’s the day after the elections are FINALLY over. After another day or two of gloats and complaints, our Facebook feeds are going back to normal! For me, though, it’s November 7. That date stares out at me for two big reasons.
Quick plug: If you’ve never been here, CLICK HERE to see what Operation Jack is. PLEASE!!!
1. It’s the day I broke my neck back in 1991.
I could have been paralyzed, but I wasn’t. It’s something that I feel defines my life, because if I would have been paralyzed, I would have never met Tiffany and had Benjamin, Jack and Ava. I wouldn’t have any of the memories I have from the past 21 years. 18 years with Tiffany, 11+ years as a parent, college, the marathons, the football games, the cross-country drives, the friends I’ve met and the places I’ve been and the things I’ve done.
I would have spent my life in a wheelchair, either living at home with the folks or in some kind of home. Every time I get home from a run, I thank God for sparing those legs. Good or bad, I’m grateful to have the ability to get out there and have the use of them. It’s never lost on me. And today, I replay that day back in 1991 in my mind all day long.
It happened when I got pushed head-first into the shallow end of a swimming pool at school, kind of a freak accident. Accidents happen, and fortunately for me, life went on. I still feel soreness in my neck and it gets pretty bad when it gets cold. I just had a pretty bad few days a couple of weeks ago and it hurt really bad, but that’s just life now. In hindsight, I don’t think I would go back in time and change the way things happened. I mean, I guess I’d rather not have broken my neck, but it’s shaped my mindset and my path and I am where I’m supposed to be so I won’t dwell. I honestly don’t think I ever look back and wish it didn’t happen.
But it was November 7, 1991. So today, I’ll have my traditional McDonald’s lunch. My dad brought me Chicken McNuggets when I was in the hospital. Back then, I had to wait a year to have caffeine or chocolate per my doctors, so on November 7, 1992, I went to McDonald’s and got myself Chicken McNuggets, a hot fudge sundae and a Coke. Now, I do that every year. I go with my fam when I can. It gives me an opportunity to be grateful for what I have, to be always mindful of the fact that God was looking after me that day.
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2. It’s the day we got Jack’s autism diagnosis back in 2006
Jack, my 9-year-old son, is severely autistic. Still in diapers, really not talking, self-injurious behavior — it’s tough on him and tough on the rest of the family. It really is something that defines all five of us, starting with him, then my wife, then me and then my other two kids. It impacts us all day, every day.
It’ll never go away for me, Jack and Tiffany. It’s a life sentence, and it officially started six years ago today. I won’t lie and say we don’t wish it never happened. We wish it never happened. And we know he wasn’t born this way, that he’s going to be fighting his vaccine injuries for the rest of his life. He had horrendous meltdowns until 9:30 last night, punching himself in the head and slamming his body around.
Unlike breaking my neck, this is something I wish hadn’t happened. I would undo this if I could. It’s a huge test of faith for us to accept this, even though we know we have to.
Side note on Jack: He’s still not in school. We had a horrendous IEP meeting yesterday. I’ll explain more about that tomorrow. Here’s some prior information on that. Here’s an audio clip of Tiff from yesterday’s meeting:
She said this to the teacher and principal who are refusing to let Jack back into the safe school. Even after this, they still stand by their position that they’re not letting Jack back in based on what Tiff said in August. I listened to the audio of the August exchange that the teacher is so mad about … I’m going to post it tomorrow. Wait until you hear what this is all about!
Anyways, I’m done rambling. It’s November 7. I’m going to make the most of it.
Do we need to go and picket around that school or district office for them to listen. WTH is wrong with those people? Is the Regional Center involved? Did you request all of these requests in writing?
I feel for your family. My son is Autistic as well. I’m thankful that his yard is fenced or I would be in the same fight. But these people are heartless. I don’t understand that this is even a fight! Ugh!
Know that your son has awesome parents that fight for him. Keep fighting, it sounds very hard, but keep fighting. DONT GIVE UP!