Rebounding from a Bad Bounce

In 1999, I was a freshman basketball player at the College of Saint Benedict in Saint Joseph, Minnesota. The College of Saint Benedict was an established Division III program that was returning four of five starters from the previous year’s National Championship runner-up team. As a freshman, I knew it would be hard to get playing time, but I looked forward to the challenge.

Fortunately, after a few weeks I did begin to see a lot of playing time. The head coach and I were getting along well, I was making new friends on and off the basketball court, and I was dating a great guy.


Due to an unfortunate injury to one of the seniors, I was soon in the starting lineup. With talented teammates around me and increased playing time, I had a terrific freshman season and was well on my way to all-conference honors. But, with two games left in the regular season, an accident changed my life forever.

On an early Sunday morning I was taking a shower when I fainted. I had fainted a few times before so this feeling was not new; however, this time I wasn’t able to sit down quickly enough and banged my forehead against the shower wall. The impact left a cross imprint directly in the center of my forehead. When I came to minutes later, I picked myself up slowly and reached for my towel. Then I fainted again.

When I woke up the second time my neck was resting on a three-inch ledge that separated the shower from the changing area. I sat up and my neck flopped backwards. It felt like there was nothing left to hold up my head. Not knowing what was going on, I held my head up with my hands, wrapped a towel around myself and went to find help. I opened and knocked on many doors looking for help while my hands never left my head or towel. Finally, I found a friend’s room and was able to lie down until help arrived.

After I got to the hospital by ambulance, a nurse told me, “Be very careful not to move. If you do, there is a strong possibility that you may become paralyzed.” One of my first thoughts was if I would ever play basketball again. After taking an X-ray, the doctors discovered that I broke the tip of my spine and C1 vertebra, which is at the base of the skull. The vertebra shattered and was fractions of a millimeter from going into my spinal cord.

Many people who have breaks similar to this don’t survive and those who do are quadriplegic. I was very fortunate -- especially since I was walking around trying to find help.

I was put into a halo, which is a ten-pound apparatus that is screwed into the skull in four places and bolted around the chest in a sheepskin vest. Once on, movement of the head and neck is not possible. While I was scared at first, I quickly became accustomed to the halo. By the end of the evening I was able to get out of bed and walk to the end of the hallway with the aid of my family and friends. The doctors told me that I was the first person they’d ever seen walk with a halo on the first day. I knew the next twelve weeks were going to be full of challenges and I could either face them with a positive attitude or let them ruin my life.

My everyday activities were now a challenge to me. I needed help with all of them; family and friends had to sleep over in case I needed help at night. I couldn’t shower or wash my own hair. My mother made special clothes to fit over my head or around the vest. I couldn’t carry a backpack. Worst of all, I was “the girl with the halo” on campus.

Luckily, I had the total support of my family, friends, teammates, and coach helping me along, one day at a time. Even though I received many stares, I tried not take offense but rather took it as an opportunity to meet new people and explain to them what happened. I quickly learned that people were staring out of curiosity and not to ridicule me.

The doctors told me they weren’t sure if I’d be able to play basketball again. The C1 vertebra controls range of motion and it all depended on how the vertebra healed. My goal was to do whatever possible to play basketball again. It was such a large part of my life. I had to get back on the court.

Twelve weeks went by slowly with no word if basketball was in my future. When the doctors finally took off the halo, I was excited to learn that I could be back on the basketball court in just two more months.

My first game was a summer league game and I was nervous. Would I be the same player? Could my neck break again? Every question was asked over and over again in my mind. Within minutes of stepping onto the court, I was on a fast break and I missed my first lay-up because I was afraid of contact. The doctors reassured me that after a break the bones heal harder than normal, so my vertebrae were actually stronger than before. It was from that missed lay-up that I decided if I was going to play I was going to go all out.

From that day on, every time I stepped on the court I imagined it could be my last game. I realized how lucky I was to be able to play. I spent a lot of time on the floor diving after loose balls with a smile of appreciation on my face. I am thankful that things turned out the way they did and I was given a second chance not only to enjoy the game of basketball but also life.

My career at the College of St. Benedict’s could not have turned out better. During the four years I was on the team, we captured two conference championships and advanced to the national tournament twice. I was also fortunate to receive the individual honors of DIII All-American, Conference Player of the Year, three-time team MVP and became the program’s second all-time leading scorer.

This experience brought me closer to my family and friends. My mom, dad, and sister are also closer because of this injury. As for the great guy who I began dating a few months prior to the accident, he is now my husband. We all learned not to take things for granted and how quickly lives can change. Even though this was a very hard experience, I would not change a minute of it. It taught me that with a positive outlook, any challenge or obstacle can be overcome. I am proud to say that I live everyday to the fullest with the attitude of not knowing what tomorrow may bring.