I thought I'd post this for anyone looking for hope, or just something to read. There is always hope. 
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November 5 2007, Guy Fawke's Day. The plan was to meet my girlfriend so that we could go to a fireworks show, something we'd both been looking forward to. I didn't make it. It was raining, and I was in a hurry. I had to meet her in less than 10 minutes, and didn't want to confirm my reputation for being late, so being 18, male and stupid, I sped.
Wrong decision. I misjudged a corner turn and lost all control. I don't remember much else about that day from then on, but I do remember theI car flipping a couple of times and thinking I was going to die before I blacked out. Apparently I had to be cut out of the car. I'm not sure how long it was before someone called for help, and I'm glad I don't.
The next thing I clearly remember was waking up in a hospital bed about a week later, surrounded by machines. My mum was sitting worriedly by my bed. I asked her what was wrong. She said, "Well Jay, you're going to hear this from doctors anyway, so I may as well tell you. You broke your neck." I then naively asked her when I'd be able to leave, and when I'd be able to play rugby again, to which she replied "I think you'll be here for a long time yet. As for rugby, I'm not sure you'll ever be able to play again. You're paralysed, Jay." Paralysed? What did she mean?
I soon found out that my chances of even walking again were slim. I would spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair. It was really difficult for me coming to terms with that, and in some ways, I still don't want to believe it. How could I spend the rest of my life as a cripple? I was one of the most active guys I knew.
I spent Christmas, New Year, and my birthday in February in hospital, and I hated it. While all my friends were out partying, I was stuck trying to learn to adjust to life in a wheelchair. It wasn't fair, but I continued to make good progress in hope I'd soon be home.
Five months after the accident, I was finally free to go home. It was great to be out of the hospital, but I soon found that life was anything but easy. I had to learn how to push myself in the wheelchair, which gave me blisters and callouses on my hands, as well as learning how to toilet, shower, and dress myself. Toileting is probably the worst thing about having a spinal cord injury. I won't go into too much detail, but I have little control over my bladder or bowel, and so use a catheter and bag. Not fun!
I have no feeling from about my bellybutton down. I get pins and needles in my hands and fingers often, and as a result of the accident, no longer sweat, which means I have to be really careful not to overheat in hot weather.
A couple of months ago, I managed to be independent enough to move into a place with a friend. Life continues to be challenging, but the most important thing to me is being independent. I'm learning to drive again with the help of hand controls. At first I was pretty reluctant, but am a careful driver now.
I do most of what I did before I was in a chair. I hang out with friends, drink, party, go to the gym, typical things every nineteen year old does. I no longer play sport of course, and am a permanent fixture on the sideline, which is probably what I miss the most.
Overall, I try not to focus too much on the negatives, and continue to look ahead to the future. I can't take it back, so I may as well not dwell on the past. That's not to say I don't get depressed, I'm the first to admit that I have plenty of down days. If anything, my injury has given me a completely new perspective on life and an admiration for those much worse off. That, in my opinion, is priceless.
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So yeah, there's my novel if anyone wants a read.
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Rickie rocks my world so hard,
that I named my pet hedgehog after her.
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I can't feel my dick, if that's what you're wondering. I still get erections though. I could have sex, I just wouldn't feel anything, I suppose. 
