Scott's Story
In high school Scott maintained a “B” average. He enjoyed participating in marching band. And was instrumental in starting the science club.
After high school, Scott planned to attend a leading university majoring in science. With graduation not more than a few nights past, Scott and his friends, Mike, Keith, and Jason were invited to a party in Malibu.
At the party was plenty of food, girls, alcoholic drinks and marijuana. Scott and his friends had never been to such a party! The most they ever drank was a beer. But there was something provocative about the night. The peer pressure was strong! Everyone was drinking and smoking - seemingly having a great time. As the evening wore on, Mike, then Keith and Jason started drinking more. Someone offered them a joint. They tried it, and liked the “good” feeling it provided. Scott was soon persuaded to join them.
In the early hours of the morning, they staggered out to Mike's pick-up. Mike and Keith climbed into the cab, Scott and Jason clamored into the bed of the truck. Laughing and hollering, they sped down Pacific Coast Highway. Turning sharply at Malibu Canyon Road, the small pick-up fish-tailed from Mike's failure to slow down.
Mike's foot rested heavy upon the accelerator. The truck weaved all over the narrow canyon road. The crest of the highway made a sharp U, Mike misjudging the turn crashed through the safety rail plummeting over the side of the steep canyon.
The top of the cab was crushed on the first flip making it impossible for Mike and Keith to survive. Jason jumped from the bed of the truck as it hit the railing . Scott was catapulted through the darkness of night. His body crashed into the dense chaparral with his head striking against the rocky terrain; he lost consciousness.
Jason bruised and cut badly crawled to the road's edge where he flagged down a highway patrol car.
Scott was rushed to a local hospital with multiple fractures and a serious head injury. For weeks he remained in a coma. He was to become one of many young people to suffer from a condition known as ABI (Acquired Brain Injury).
Scott made steady improvements. In six months everyone was celebrating his recovery. Yet sadly, one never recovers from ABI. Scott had beaten death to find himself in a living hell.
I first met Scott in a human biology class on a local college campus. He sat in the front row, I sat several rows back. He tape recorded the lectures; and tried to sketch the diagrams the professor put on the overhead projector. When he failed to get it down in the more than sufficient time allowed, he became angry with frustration.
Sensing he had a learning difficulty I offered to share my notes over a soda in the campus coffee shop. It was here his tragic story unfolded.
Within a week he was accepted by student services for tutoring. He was assigned to me for the remainder of the semester.
Over the next months, I watched Scott struggle to re-learn spelling, simple vocabulary, math and science. And he struggled through much more: Anger, frustration, depression, fear and anxiety. Some how he came through each of these emotional battles a little stronger. Yet, his toughest battle was facing he could never pursue a career in laboratory science.
Cathy's Story
At seventeen Cathy was a bright vivacious teen. She planned to marry following high school graduation and attend UCLA in the fall. Cathy was ecstatic with the reality of attending UCLA to pursue her childhood dream of becoming a doctor.
A week before her wedding Cathy left her San Fernando Valley home to drive a short distance to a neighborhood gas station and convenience store. On her way home she started into an intersection when what seemed like out-of-no-where a truck driven by a middle aged man crashed through the red light. The driver and his passenger had just spent several hours in a local cocktail lounge. They had joined some of their fellow employees in the usual Friday after work happy hour to help them unwind from the stress of the work week.
The impact ripped the seat belt from Cathy's compact hurling her onto the pavement. Cathy regained consciousness several weeks later to realize she had escaped death to gain something worse. She began rehabilitation to learn to use her arms and legs again. Her life was filled with appointments: doctors, therapists, and lawyers. In her words, “it was like waking up to a different world: An ugly place filled with pain, hurt, fear and prejudices.” In one reckless instance her bright future was reduced to rubble.
Cathy's dynamic inner self was apparent on our first meeting. If it was not for this strength she probably would have been institutionalized, unable to care for herself.
