Comeback Story: Faith, Resilience, and a Second Chance at Movement
I had struggled with back problems on and off since I was 15 years old, when a car accident led to my first back surgery. But I always bounced back.
Fifteen years later, life looked different. I was an educated, career-driven professional, a homeowner, a mother, and recently divorced—doing my best to build a stable life for my daughter, Hannah.
Then, the morning after Thanksgiving in 2001, everything changed. I woke to Hannah softly calling for me. As I always did, I got up quickly and went to her room. Kneeling beside her bed, I reached down to pick up a few stuffed animals that had fallen overnight.
And suddenly—it felt like someone stabbed me in my lower back. I knew immediately this was different.
When Life Slows to a Stop
Not long after, my life began to unravel physically. I couldn’t go for walks with Hannah. I couldn’t attend church. I couldn’t meet friends for lunch. I couldn’t focus on my work.
Eventually, I couldn’t grocery shop, clean my home, or maintain a full work schedule. The next ten months were a blur of evaluations, MRIs, X-rays, neurologists, neurosurgeons, pain management appointments—and the endless cycle of medications, opinions, and mounting bills.
Finally, I underwent surgery to stabilize a severely slipped vertebra in my lower back. Two rods and six screws were placed in my spine to allow the bones to fuse.
A Different Kind of Struggle
The surgery prevented paralysis. My spine was stabilized. However, the outcome came at a cost.
I lost sensation in my feet and lower legs—permanently. I developed foot drop in my right foot and relied on a cane for balance. And the hardware itself became a constant source of pain.
It was too large for my frame. It pressed outward against my skin—relentlessly. Everyday life became painful in ways I never imagined:
- Sitting in a chair
- Riding in a car
- Sleeping on a mattress
- Wearing clothes
- Even the lightest touch
I searched for answers. I saw doctor after doctor. I underwent test after test. I tried every treatment available. Nothing helped. Eventually, I was told:
- I should stop working
- I should file for disability
- I might have less than 10 years left to walk
The Weight of Hope
During that time, I lived in a constant tension—between hope and acceptance. I leaned on my faith, working to find gratitude even in suffering. I questioned whether continuing to search for answers meant I wasn’t trusting what had already been given to me.
Hope, at times, felt fragile. Vulnerable. Almost too painful to hold onto. Still, I kept going. I raised my daughter. I advanced in my career. I paid my mortgage. I even remarried—and later divorced.
Through it all, the pain was always there—woven into the fabric of my life.
A Turning Point
In November 2011, I sat down with my cousin Jimmy, a physician. As always, he asked the question I had come to expect: “How’s your back?”
My answer hadn’t changed. But his response did. He urged me to see an orthopedic spine surgeon in Birmingham, Alabama - someone he believed could help me. I hesitated. I had heard “no” too many times before.
Still, something told me to try. I sent my records—and a photo showing the hardware pressing through my skin. Within days, I was on my way to Birmingham, Alabama.
A Moment That Changed Everything
Before I even stepped into the exam room, the surgeon had already reviewed my case and made a decision. He was going to remove the hardware.
The appointment itself was brief—but overwhelming. I cried. Hannah cried. For the first time in years, hope felt real again.
A Miracle in Motion
My surgery was scheduled for January 2012. I didn’t know what to expect. I prayed simply to wake up—to be there for my daughter—and maybe, just maybe, feel a small amount of relief.
But what happened next was something I still struggle to put into words. Before I even opened my eyes after surgery, I felt my toes. For the first time in over a decade—I could feel them. Then my calves. It was overwhelming. Indescribable.
Living Fully—Because I Can
My recovery began slowly. I walked. Then I walked farther. Then I began to run. Six months later, I ran my first 5K in over 25 years—the first since that accident at age 15.
And I haven’t stopped since. I run because I can. I went skydiving—because I can. I say yes to life—because I can.
A Life Reclaimed
Today, I live with purpose and gratitude. I take care of my health. I stay active. I share my story. Because people deserve to know what’s possible.
My journey wasn’t just about healing—it was about restoration. About faith. About perseverance. About not giving up, even when hope feels too heavy to carry.
Victory Over Injury
My life was forever changed by a surgeon who saw what others could not—and acted. Dr. Andrew Cordover at Andrews Sports Medicine & Orthopaedic Center in Birmingham, Alabama gave me more than relief. He gave me my life back.
