What Doesn't Kill You... Part 1



Ground Zero in NYC, my birthplace.

 Each and every one of us has a story; a story that largely defines who we are, a story that would fill the pages of a book. Sometimes there is one key turning point in life that changes the course of one's life. Sometimes it is a chain of events.  Often there is a decision involved; a risk that is taken, a mistake that is made.  The path of my life - at one point (restlessly) comfortable and predictable - was drastically altered as a result of one big mistake that I made, followed by an unforeseen and devastating event that cost four lives.  Here is my story.

As a young girl I was conditioned by the media to expect seduced by the every-girl's dream:  falling in love, wearing a frilly white dress at a large wedding and raising a family.  In high school I craved love.  I ached to find it and grasp onto it and never let it go.  My first love came and went and I left home to attend university 3500km away.  After a few casual flings the yearning to find true love resurfaced and was finally requited when I met my university sweetheart.  We fell in love and three years later he asked me to marry him.  I remember the proposal like it was yesterday.  The moment is stark in my mind because of a dominant emotion that struck me like a lightening bolt. I was terrified. I cringed internally.  "Noooooooooo!" my mind screamed. "Yes," I whispered meekly.  After all, this was what I had been wanting my whole life, right?  All of our mutual friends were doing it, countless young-20-somethings before us had done it.  This was the key to my happiness, right?  Right?

Doubt lingered in my conscience but I managed to drown it out with sufficient pre-wedding activity and hubbub. But the ambivalence I felt during the actual ceremony saddened me.  I parrotted my memorised vows with aplomb, but nary an emotion. I wondered why. But it was too late now and besides I wasn't strong enough or confident enough to do anything to change it. Surely everything would be just fine, right? And then came the honeymoon - that fateful trip that would turn my life (and many others) on its head and point me in a direction I would never have had the courage to pursue otherwise.

Picture this: a sunsoaked Carribbean resort, honeymooning couples, activities galore.  On the second to last morning of our trip - a dreadfully hot and humid day - we boarded a motorboat with some 15 other people en route to a scuba diving adventure.  We were all aboard and waiting for the skipper to fire up the engine but the engine wouldn't start.  The next few minutes were a blur because one minute we were all sitting there on that boat, eagerly anticipating the day ahead, and in one split second we were launched into a vortex of devastation.  The first thing that I remember was the sound - a deafening sonic BOOM that was felt more in the gut than heard by the ears.  Then the scorching heat which felt like my skin was on fire.  And the third sense that kicked into gear in that microscopic instant was the putrid smell of the petrol that had ignited in the bilge and blown up our boat into a thousand pieces.

Time froze (it actually stood still) and I vividly recall being suspended in the air - 5, 10, 15m (who knows) in the air - high above the water. Looking down I could see the pieces of the boat below me, the water all around and one motionless body lying on the beach.  One thought only raced through my mind: "Well you better fall in feet first so you don't break your neck."  Time sped up again and I plunged into the water.  My legs and arms intact, I focused on getting myself and my partner (to this day, I am still too embarrassed to call him my husband) out of the water where we crawled up onto the beach and collapsed onto the sand.  Only then did I notice the searing pain in my lower back.  It was broken.

Moments passed.  Hours passed, while the more seriously injured were attended to by the resort's modest staff and (luckily) the few doctors who happened to be holidaying there as well.  Four people were dead.  One person was paralysed from the waist down.  One other had 3rd degree burns covering his entire body.  Another had severe internal injuries.  I had broken my back and my partner had a concussion and a broken foot.

We were in the middle of nowhere - in a 3rd world country with primitive emergency facilities and an open-air clinic (patronised by rats, roosters, you name it) our only respite.  What course my future would now take, I hadn't a clue.  I certainly wouldn't have dreamed that it would become my life-defining event - the one that would change how I lived and breathed for the rest of my days.  However, it was indeed the moment that would ultimately lead me to a lifetime of happiness.