Continued:
This was just the beginning of my suffering.
I died eight times while I was in the intensive care unit, and even when I woke up from my coma, I couldn’t talk or communicate. The day that they knew that I would leave, was the day that I either left my room in a wheelchair or a body bag. As for the future, it didn’t exist. I was never going to walk: my pelvis was shattered. Swimming again, was just a thought: like my body, my dreams were shattered. But, I didn’t give up - I knew God had a plan for me.
When you experience something frequently, you get used to it, and so it doesn't surprise you much, as it would someone experiencing it for the first time. When you see your dreams. All of it. Falling down, like a chandelier of glass from the ceiling and smashing into tiny little
