The Day My World Changed
On April 7, 2026, I was in Colorado preparing to host our annual Sales Rally for my team at Experience.com. Senior management, department heads, and employees nationwide were traveling to attend a three day event focused on strategic planning and fostering team cohesion. We started the day with 18 holes of golf, enjoying the camaraderie and the mountain air. Just hours later, a devastating car accident instantly altered the course of my life.
The impact left me with a broken C2 vertebrae, a traumatic brain injury (TBI), a torn left ACL, and significant head trauma. In the medical world, a C2 fracture is often met with grim statistics; many do not survive the injury, and many others never walk again. By the grace of God and the skill of the surgical team at St. Anthony Hospital, I am here to tell the story.
The Hands That Healed Me
My heart is filled with profound appreciation for the healthcare heroes and the community that became my lifeline. This circle of compassion started with the first responders at the crash site, individuals who work wonders amidst chaos without seeking recognition, and reached the dedicated team on the fifth floor of St. Anthony Hospital. To the neurosurgeons who repaired my spine and the trauma nurses who monitored my condition: your efforts are nothing short of sacred.
Outside the hospital walls, my wife stood as a pillar of resilience, managing our family while supporting me through my darkest moments. My children, witnessing my vulnerability yet loving me back to strength, are my deepest inspiration. The overwhelming support from friends, neighbors, and the Experience.com family reaffirmed that human connection is essential. I stand today because of the collective effort that carried me through. My recovery is proof that healing cannot happen alone.
The Discipline of Rehabilitation
Recovery takes hard work, not shortcuts. I followed my doctors orders about moving and eating right — no exceptions. Even when walking hurt, I did it. Each step helped me get stronger and more independent. My therapist taught me that slow, careful movements stop muscles from wasting and help nerves heal. I started with tiny walks and slowly went farther.
Eating right was just as important. My doctors said protein helps heal hurt tissues, especially in the brain and spine. I ate lots of chicken, fish, and plant proteins, plus greens and good fats. Drinking enough water was key too — being dehydrated slows healing and makes you more tired. Rest wasn't a choice — it was medicine. My injured brain needed sleep to heal. I learned to stop when my body said to, even if it meant skipping work or plans.
Rehabilitation Pillar | The Objective | My Commitment |
|---|---|---|
Movement | Prevents clots and aids neurological recovery. | Walking daily, even when every step felt like a mountain. |
Mental Guard | Prevents the victim narrative from taking root. | Daily prayer and choosing gratitude over frustration. |
Compliance | Ensures the spinal fusion sets correctly. | Strict adherence to all lifting and twisting restrictions. |
The Fragility of "Normal"
It is humbling how quickly the life we take for granted can pivot in a few seconds of twisted metal. One moment you are planning quarterly business goals or looking forward to a family graduation, and the next, your entire world is the four inches of space between your chin and your chest.
Surviving a C2 cervical fracture — the Axis vertebrae — is a miracle in its purest form. This bone is the pivot point for the head; damage here frequently results in instant paralysis or worse. Finding myself on the other side of emergency neck surgery, stitched back together by steady hands, I realized every breath from that moment on was a gift I hadn't earned, but one I was determined to honor.
Why I Chose a "Clear" Recovery
One of the most difficult decisions I made early in this journey was to manage my recovery without relying on narcotic pain medication. While opioids are the standard for spinal surgery pain management, I felt a strong personal conviction to remain fully present throughout the struggle.
I wanted to feel the progress, even if it meant feeling the pain. By choosing a multimodal approach with non-narcotic alternatives and mental discipline, I kept my mind sharp for the most important work: prayer and connecting with my family. There were grueling nights when the discomfort felt like a physical weight, but staying clear allowed me to communicate effectively with my doctors and keep my spirit engaged in the healing process.
Faith as the Ultimate Foundation
People often ask where the strength comes from when the physical body fails. For me, the answer is simple but profound: my faith in God and the unwavering support of my family. When you are strapped into a neck brace, unable to turn your head or even sit up without assistance, your perspective shifts from the horizontal, the world around you, to the vertical. You start looking up because that is the only direction left. Healing is not just a biological process of bones knitting back together; it is a spiritual journey. I found that while the surgeons could align my vertebrae, God was the one aligning my heart, and my family was the foundation that kept me grounded. Trusting that my life has a purpose that survived that car accident gave me a reason to push through the hardest days of rehabilitation. Prayer became my primary medication, and the love of my family became my greatest source of courage. When fear tried to creep in, fear of permanent limitations or the what ifs that haunt the midnight hours of a hospital stay, I leaned into the promise that I was not walking this valley alone.
My family's faith and encouragement reminded me daily that I was never truly by myself. Maintaining this mindset required a daily, sometimes hourly, surrender. I had to let go of the man I was before the accident, the executive who fixed everything, and become a man who was willing to be fixed. This vulnerability wasn't a weakness; it was the doorway to a deeper kind of strength. By choosing gratitude, I was creating an environment where healing could flourish. Each day, I looked for one thing to be thankful for, a kind word from a nurse, a sunny window, the laughter of my children, or the fact that I could swallow without pain.
The Strength Found in Each Step
If there is one thing I’ve learned about recovery, it’s that attitude is a muscle. You have to train it every single day. I realized early on that if I wanted to regain my physical life, I had to be meticulously disciplined with my doctors' instructions.
Research consistently shows that early and frequent walking is the single most important exercise after spine surgery. Even when I didn't want to move, I walked. I focused on nutrition, on getting the sleep my brain needed to heal from the head trauma, and on staying active within the strict boundaries my medical team set.
Rehabilitation Pillar | Why It Matters Now | My Personal Commitment |
|---|---|---|
Consistent Movement | Walking improves blood flow and prevents post-operative complications. | Walking every day, even just a few more steps than the day before. |
Mental Discipline | Your brain heals faster when you refuse to dwell on trauma or setbacks. | Daily prayer, reading, and refusing to entertain victim narratives. |
Strict Compliance | Spinal fusions require time and stillness for the bone to grow properly. | Following every restriction without exception. |
Unbroken Spirit
A fractured neck, a torn ACL, and a traumatic brain injury marked the beginning of a transformative chapter in my life. These injuries, particularly the C2 fracture, often referred to as the hangman’s fracture due to its severity, could have been the end of my story. Instead, they became the foundation of a journey that reshaped my perspective on strength, faith, and the power of human connection.
We possess greater resilience than we often realize. The human body and spirit are capable of extraordinary healing when fueled by determination and surrounded by love. With unwavering faith, no obstacle can permanently defeat us. An unbroken spirit is not just a phrase but a testament to the power of perseverance, the importance of community, and the belief that every challenge is an opportunity for growth.
A Message to Those in the Middle of the Fire
If you are reading this and you are currently facing your own broken C2 moment — whether it is a physical injury, a professional failure, or a personal trauma — I want you to hear this: Do not lose faith.
The struggle you are in right now is refining you for a future you cannot yet see. Healing is rarely a straight line; it is a series of small, disciplined wins stacked on top of each other.
Trust the process. Even when it feels slow, your body and spirit are doing the work.
Choose gratitude. There is always something to be thankful for, even if it is just the ability to take your next breath.
Lean on your community. You were never intended to carry your burdens alone.
My accident changed my life, but it did not end it. In many ways, it began a new chapter characterized by a deeper appreciation for my family, a more profound connection to my faith, and a renewed sense of purpose in my leadership.
Broken neck.
Torn ACL.
Traumatic brain injury.
But an unbroken spirit.
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