Saturday Star

CHOOSING TO LIVE

Is an honest, inspiring and engaging memoir in which Tracy Todd’s natural warmth and humour are tangible and, most importantl­y, she embodies

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watched my legs flop on top of each other, and my arm fell limply from above my head into my lap. I was flat on my back, yet I felt no pain. The smell of dust and fumes burned my nasal passages and I gasped. The air was thick and I felt as if I was suffocatin­g. I wanted to get up but my body would not react.

I could see my toes, red nail enamel shimmering through the dust. My bronzed legs looked unscathed, but I couldn’t feel them. Or my arms. I knew that I’d broken my neck. I can’t explain how I knew, but I just knew.

I heard Chad crying but I couldn’t turn my head to find him.

Craig shouted, “Trace, are you all right?” I didn’t answer immediatel­y. “Tracy!” he yelled. “Are you okay?”

“I think I’ve broken my neck,” I said. “Just find Chad, Craig. Please find him.”

“Fuck!” He unbuckled his seat belt and climbed awkwardly out of the car. Chad’s toys and our luggage were strewn all over the inside of the car. I could hear different voices, people had stopped to help. I was franticall­y listening out for Chad. Craig came around to one of the doors at the back which he managed to force open.

“Chad’s fine, Trace. How are you?”

“I want to see him.” My voice was barely a whisper.

“He’s fine, Trace. A very nice lady has got him just over there,” Craig assured me.

I couldn’t see him, or anyone else. My head wouldn’t move. “I want to see him,” I insisted. Craig disappeare­d for a couple of seconds. When he returned, he held Chad up in front of my face so that I could see him. Chad was wideeyed but quiet, his face tear-stained. Thank God he was okay.

Miraculous­ly, nobody else was hurt. Even Rocky was still wagging his tail.

It took the ambulance all of eternity to arrive. I was having difficulty breathing and felt as though somebody was strangling me.

“Craig, please promise me that you will not allow them to keep me alive on a machine. And please take good care of Chad if I die.”

I don’t remember if he answered, but I know he kept saying, “Help is on its way, Trace. Hang in there.”

I asked him to remove my rings and necklace while we were waiting. I remembered a varsity friend telling me how the paramedics had tried to steal her jewellery at the scene of her accident. Isn’t that amazing? I was about to entrust my life to the paramedics, but I wouldn’t trust them with my jewellery.

I don’t remember the ambulance arriving, but I do remember hear- ing the rattle of some of Chad’s toys and voices giving instructio­ns. I strained to see what was happening.

“Ma’am, please lie still.” The paramedic fitted a mask over my face.

The cool air flowing into my lungs helped to calm me. He then secured my neck in a brace and slid a stretcher underneath me. The beads of perspirati­on along his hairline showed how awkward it was for him to work in that confined space. My eyes followed his movements as he took hold of the stretcher to manoeuvre me out.

“Lady, I told you to keep still.” His face reddened as he loomed over me.

I was completely unaware that my head was moving at all and I was close to tears. I wanted to do what the paramedic told me, but I was desperate to get to Chad.

With hardly a bump, I was loaded into the ambulance. Craig grabbed Chad and my handbag and jumped in with me. “Where’s Rocky?” Craig leaned closer, his brow furrowed. I repeated the question.

“A very nice gentleman has volunteere­d to bring Rocky and our luggage to the hospital.”

Such kind people there were in this world.

“The bastard ran away.” Craig’s voice drew me back. For a moment, I was confused and then I realised he was referring to the driver of the blue car.

“He was probably pissed.” Craig shook his head. “The car was full of empty and half-full beer bottles. His poor passenger was left to sort out all the details with the police.” Then a moment later, he added: “He just came to a sudden stop in the middle of the road.”

He was silent for a while as he mulled things over.

The trip in the ambulance was bumpy and uncomforta­ble. Chad sat on his dad’s lap and looked down at me with big, bewildered eyes. All I wanted to do was take him in my arms, hold him and tell him that everything would be all right. It was almost time for his bottle.

“Please will you give Chad his bottle when we get to the hospital?”

“I will,” Craig answered, pulling Chad a little closer to him.

I didn’t realise then what a gift my maternal instinct was or what an asset it would be for the rest of my life or, most critically, how important it would become for my survival, both physically and emotionall­y.

I was wheeled into the emergency room of the public hospital in Standerton where we were met by the doctor on duty who appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He tried to sound cheerful while he was examining me, but his eyes told a different story. I knew that he, too, feared the worst. He jabbed at my legs with a needle, watching for a reaction and moving from one leg to the other. No words can explain how desperate I was to feel the pain of that needle. But I felt nothing.

Brave Lotus Flower Rides The Dragon

by Tracy Todd is published by Tracey McDonald Publishers at a recommende­d retail price of R250.

 ??  ?? Tracy Todd, a keen athlete and mother, was left paralysed from the neck down after a horrific car accident.
Tracy Todd, a keen athlete and mother, was left paralysed from the neck down after a horrific car accident.

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