I WAS CRUSHED BY A TREE!
Bianca is determined to get back on her feet after a freak accident
Trudging up the beach with my surfboard under one arm, the wind whipped across the sand.
On holiday, I’d had a fun morning sur ng at Seven Mile Beach in Gerroa, NSW.
Up at the outdoor shower, I rinsed off, still wearing my short-legged wetsuit.
Just then, I heard a crack, like lightning in the distance.
A millisecond later, a louder crack made me glance over my right shoulder.
What the..?! I panicked. A huge tree, so wide it would take two people to hug the trunk, was falling towards me!
The weight had ripped the roots clean out of the earth.
Crashing right on top of me, it knocked me off my feet so I landed on my back.
I felt my femur snap in my left thigh, and my back seared with an excruciating stabbing pain.
It’s broken! I knew instantly.
Then, the feeling drained from my legs until they were numb. Crushed by the tree, I was trapped!
I’m going to die, I fretted. Trying to scream for help, nothing came out…
Just then, a man approached.
‘Call an ambulance,’ I managed to choke out.
Spotting me, all of the colour drained from his face.
The tree had taken out the shower, and water swirled around my head.
As he scrambled to turn it off, his partner sat next to me and held my hand.
Within minutes, ambos were giving me pain meds, while the police, SES and
ries came up with a plan to free me.
Given a reman’s helmet and earmuffs to protect me, blocks were placed beneath the tree to support its weight, then chainsaws revved.
Finally freed after 40 minutes, I was carefully moved to a rescue helicopter. Passing out, my world went black.
Coming to in hospital, wires snaked from my body.
Oh my God, is this hell or am I alive? I worried, as nurses rushed in.
I still couldn’t feel my legs. What if I never walk again? I panicked.
Just then, my mum,
Kerrie, and grandma, Elaine, walked in, and we all burst into tears.
My dad, Hughie, had to stay home in Queensland to run their newsagency.
Soon after, the doctor did his rounds.
‘We thought we were going to lose you,’ he said.
‘I can’t believe
I’m alive,’ I replied, in shock.
No-one had any idea why the tree had fallen. It was a total freak accident.
It had squashed my spinal cord, breaking several vertebrae. My femur had snapped, I’d broken multiple ribs and I struggled to speak as my lungs had collapsed.
Because I’d been wearing a wetsuit, just my legs were covered in grazes.
The night before, I’d had emergency surgery to x the damage. Now, I was being held together with metal rods, and a bone graft had been taken from my hip to repair my spine.
‘You’re really lucky your spine didn’t sever,’ the doctor said. ‘There’s a chance you’ll walk again.’
Still, I felt sorry for myself. I’d gone for a surf, and ended up paralysed from the hips down.
Waking up the next morning, I snapped out of it.
Let’s get this show on the road! I decided.
I would do whatever it took to get back on my own two feet.
Over the coming days, my arms were so weak I could barely lift them, so Mum fed me. Scooping up a spoonful of dinner, she whizzed her arm through the air, like an airplane.
‘Vroooom, vrooom, open up!’ she teased.
‘Mum, I broke my back, I’m not two!’ I retorted.
We cracked up laughing, and I got Mum back soon after. As she rubbed moisturiser into my legs, I inched as if in pain. ‘Ouch that hurts!’ I groaned. Mum was distraught, until she heard me giggling. I couldn’t feel a thing!
Two weeks later, I was transferred to the Prince of Wales Spinal Injury Unit.
‘You’re so bright, and you’re laughing!’ friends said, surprised, when they visited me.
‘I broke my back, not my personality!’ I quipped.
If I sat around feeling miserable, I’d never make any progress.
I did rehab twice a day, Monday to Friday.
Then, just before my
30th birthday in April, I started to get a pins and needles type sensation in patches on my legs.
Hang on, I can feel that! I’d think, excitedly.
By the time I was discharged last June – ve months after being crushed – I’d taught myself how to get in and out of my wheelchair by myself.
Living alone in Sydney, it meant I had the freedom to go to the hairdresser or movies by myself.
Nearly a year on from the accident, I pretty much have full feeling back in my legs.
Doing my washing recently, I tried to roll my wheelchair in close to reach the clothes dryer.
‘Ouch!’ I groaned, as I stubbed my toe, hard.
But every bang is a blessing as it means I can feel.
I’m so grateful for every single day, and I’m stronger and more resilient than
I ever imagined.
‘If anyone’s going to get up and walk, it’s you – because you’re so stubborn!’ my loved ones say.
I’ve come so far. But I won’t stop until I take my rst steps! ●
The Prince of Wales Hospital Spinal Injury Unit is only one of two units in NSW providing care for people with spinal cord injuries. To donate, go to powhf.org.au