Paying Forward

A year and a half ago, I started an intense rehabilitation program (Beyond Therapy).  Although the program helped me get stronger, taught me new skills and made me healthier, it did not get me closer to potentially stand up and take at least one step.   I knew from the beginning that the chances were very slim but I wanted to give it a try anyways. I knew that it would benefit me in many other ways as well.   After a year in the program, I decided to stop. The program demanded a lot of me. 9 hours+ a week, time away from work and a lot more money (a lot!!!). I was extremely lucky that with my savings, the help of my parents, my sisters, my aunt and uncle, cousins and many friends and co-workers I was able to afford it. However,  I just could not do it for much longer without risking areas of my life that were as important (my job, time with my family, my financial health, etc).

Everyday on my way back from Beyond Therapy, while reflecting  back on the progress I was making,  I could not stop smiling and thinking how fortunate I was.  The words “thank you” continued to slowly and silently come out of my mouth.   

1.    During that same time, I met two wonderful persons:  Father Thomas and Mary.  Father Thomas is a priest from Uganda who is also in a wheelchair. His level of injury is very similar to mine.  When Father Thomas had his motorcycle accident, he did not get any rehab. As a consequence, he spent the following two years in bed.  He could not work, he could not use his great potential.  He did not have an appropriate wheelchair, he lived in a place that was not wheelchair accessible, he did not count with the medical supplies he needed to have at a minimum a dignified existence. Thanks to the immense heart of an Angel called Mary and many others Angels that appeared in his path, mountains were moved to bring him to Shepherd Spinal Center.  In less than a couple of months, he learned all the basic skills. He is now back in Uganda able to live, serve, be happy and provide happiness. (If you want to know more of Father Thomas story please go to these links: http://www.myfoxtwincities.com/story/17884416/fox-medical-team-unlikely-friendship  and www.shepherdcentermagazine.org/q1_12/spinalcolumn_winter_2012.swf)

Meeting Father Thomas plus realizing how fortunate I am, an uncontrollable need to help, to pay forward is growing every second in my heart.  For this reason, my wife and I are starting a non-profit organization to help victims of SCI in the underprivileged word.  A class-mate of mine, Carlos helped me develop the idea even further. Although the idea is still hatching, “Happiness is a Choice” (HIAC) is ready to start helping.

I am happy to introduce 3 people in addition to Father Thomas that HIAC is committing to help this year:

·         Jane Nagaddya:  She is 26 years old. On 14^th, June, 2006, she had a car accident and suffered a SCI. She was admitted to Mulago hospital (Uganda’s National Referral Hospital) for her operation and treatment. She stayed in that hospital for 5 months. She has had no therapy!!! She is 100% dependent on her grandmother! She has suffered from multiple bed sores, depression, accidents, UTIs, fevers, malaria, headaches, etc.  Since she is not employed, she totally depends on the mercy and generosity of her community members.

 

·    Julius Tumwesigye. He is 29 years old. His SCI was caused by a Road accident on August 2, 2009. He was admitted to Mulago Hospital in Uganda where he was diagnosed with a fracture dislocation of Thoracic Spine (T8 and T-9) with paraplegia. As is the case with SCI patients in Uganda, he was discharged without rehab or therapy!!! He too is 100% dependent and like Jane, has suffered with multiple sores, depressions, accidents,  UTIs, fevers, malaria, headaches, etc. He has a progressive scoliosis.  And like Jane, since he is not employed, he totally depends on the mercy and generosity of his community.

On behalf of “Happiness is a Choice”, I ask you to consider donating funds or supplies to send to Father Thomas, Julius and Jane. If you are interested in helping, please email me at happinessisachoice2013@gmail.com

The fourth person is:

·         Kennedy Ng’ang’a: He lives in Mombasa, Kenya. Kennedy used to be an avid swimmer until a diving accident in 1992 left him quadriplegic. Kennedy was told by doctors that he would never do anything productive again. Kennedy’s mother, his care giver, passed away a couple of years ago. He is alone without a caregiver and living in extreme poverty half a world away. Yet through this all, Kennedy has tapped into an amazing gift. He is a gifted painter/artist, which is truly amazing considering his physical limitations. If you want to help Kennedy, consider buying one (or more J) of his paintings.  To see Kennedy’s work please go to his facebook page and explore his albums.  You can even commission an original work by contacting him there. Once you receive the work in mail, then you will pay him. If you buy a painting from him, please let us know

        

I hope that with HIAC, we can help as many people as possible with this tough condition. This is the best way I have to thank GOD for the many gifts he constantly gives me…..

Happiness is a Choice is my way to pay forward for all the support I got from my  family, friends, co-workers to help me pay my year at Beyond Therapy. It is done in your honor. I dedicate this blog to you and to all the people HIAC will be helping in the years to come…..

2 of my biggest sources

La version en Espanol esta al finalizar la version en Ingles
The Spanish version is reight after the English version


I have not been very active writing my blog. I am working in a big personal project that is taking my time. I can't wait to be ready so I can share it with you. However,  my post today is about two of my biggest sources of happiness: my daughters Antonella and Arianna. They said they wanted to write in my blog....so here they are:

This is from my 13 year old Antonella:

"In life people say bad things happen to bad people but why such a bad thing happen to such an amazing dad? I like to think of it as a lesson from God. My father has taught me amazing things and his injury taught me a lesson that cannot be taught by any ordinary class in school. I learned not to get too comfortable with the life you have because it can change into something completely new in just a matter of days. I was about 10 years old when my dad had his injury, I had no idea it was going to affect our lives so much.

A few days after  his surgery, my siblings and I got to see him for the very first time. Seeing my dad hurting so much he could hardly talk and having wires all over his body was probably one of the hardest things to see. That was the moment I realized, Wow! This is more serious than I thought!

It has now been about 3 years since the injury and my dad is getting more independent as each day goes by. Due to the injury my dad is now more worried about keeping our backs healthy. It’s an ongoing battle between me, my sisters and my dad to get us to stop doing flips and tricks all over the house. I have also always wanted a trampoline, but I’m not allowed to have one because I could injure my back or neck. Although I would still love a trampoline and I love flipping around the house, I understand how scared it makes him. It makes me happy to know he cares about me so much!

Having my dad in a wheelchair may change his physical appearance but, he is still Enzo Piscopo, and most importantly he is still my daddy and I thank God every day for blessing me with him. This experience has made me and my family stronger than ever, and has inspired me to become a better and more caring person."

Each of my kids had a very unique and different reaction to my injury. Antonella was always very strong. She was the one that never expressed any concerns. She always acted as she was sure that everything was going to be all right.  Seeing her always that strong made me feel proud and gave me so much strength to face whatever was coming my way.  I remember when I asked her what color should my wheel chair be, she responded why should we care about the color if it is going to be something temporal. It broke my heart. However, I loved her always positive attitude. She has always expected from me the same or more than before my injury. She does not give me any slack....and I love it.  She made my heart burst when before her Middle School Talent Show she said:

"I dedicate this dance to My dad who is my inspiration"

And this is from my 7 year old Arianna:

^"Hi!, I’m Enzo’s daughter, Arianna.  I love my dad  and I don’t care if he’s  in a wheel chair ‘cause it’s actually kind of fun! I get to sit on his lap and he gives me a ride! And I think it’s special that he is in a wheel chair. When he went to the hospital, I  didn’t know he was going to be in a wheel chair I thought he was just a little sick and he would come back from the hospital soon. But when I went to the hospital he told me he was going to be in a wheel chair I felt weird because that never happened to me before .  I was also very worried! In my head I was asking myself “how is it like having a dad in a wheel chair?” and I didn’t know he had to do all that work just because he was in a wheel chair. He has a kind of chair that brings him up and down stairs and “it’s really cool!”.  I love my daddy."

Arianna, as opposed to Antonella, was the one that showed the most concern, anxiaty and sadness.  She would break my heart. Several times she came to me and said: "Daddy how much I wish you were not on a wheel chair" or "Daddy hospitals lie, they took you to get you better and you came back on a wheelchair". She always talks about my wheelchair. She is much better now. She is constantly letting her kisses invade my face. Each kiss fuels me with energy to continue this journey. As long as I continue getting her kisses I know I will be all right.

I dedicate this blog to my 4 kids. They are my biggest source of happiness. Their smiles, their hugs, their words, their love give the most sense to my life! I love you Rafa, Anto, Ari y Sabri.....next blog will be by Rafa and Sabri....may be :)

Dos de mis fuentes más grandes de alegría

Últimamente he estado un poco apartado de mi blog. En realidad, estoy entregado a un importante proyecto personal que me está ocupando mucho mi tiempo. Espero tener este proyecto listo pronto para compartirlo con ustedes. Sin embargo, la página de hoy en mi blog la ocupan dos de mis fuentes más grandes de alegría: mis hijas Antonella y Arianna. Ellas manifestaron interés en participar en mi blog y ahí va lo que querían decir.

Mi hija Antonella, de 13 años, escribió:

"La gente dice que las cosas malas ocurren solamente a las personas malas, pero yo me pregunto por qué esto tan feo le ocurrió a un papá tan bueno. Me tranquiliza pensar que es como una lección de Dios. Mi papá me ha enseñado cosas increíbles y con su lesión he aprendido cosas que nunca habría podido aprender en una clase normal en la escuela. Me enseñó que uno no debe acostumbrarse demasiado a las cosas que uno tiene en la vida pues todo puede cambiar en cuestión de días. Yo tenía 10 años cuando mi papá sufrió la lesión y no tenía idea de que eso cambiaría tanto nuestras vidas. Mis hermanos y yo pudimos ver a mi papá unos días después de la cirugía. Probablemente lo más difícil para mí fue verlo con tubos conectados a todo el cuerpo y tan adolorido que ni siquiera podía hablar. Fue en ese momento que dije, ¡guau! ¡Esto es más serio de lo que yo me imaginaba!

Han pasado ya 3 años desde que mi papá sufrió la lesión y cada vez es más autónomo. Debido a su lesión, mi papá se preocupa más por la salud de nuestras espaldas. Hay una lucha constante entre mis hermanas, yo y mi papá, quien quiere a toda costa que dejemos de hacer piruetas en la casa. Yo siempre he querido tener un trampolín, pero no puedo porque podría lastimarme la espalda o el cuello. Aun cuando definitivamente me gustaría tener un trampolín y me encanta hacer piruetas en la casa, entiendo que esto lo asusta mucho. Sin embargo, me siento tan feliz al saber que mi papá se preocupa tanto por mí. El hecho de que mi papá esté en una silla de ruedas puede que cambie su apariencia, pero sigue siendo Enzo Piscopo y, lo que es más importante, sigue siendo mi papi y agradezco a Dios todos los días por haberme bendecido con este papá. Esta experiencia nos ha fortalecido a todos en la familia y me ha ayudado a ser una persona mejor y más solidaria".

Cada uno de mis hijos reaccionó de manera diferente ante mi lesión. Antonella ha sido siempre muy fuerte y nunca mostró preocupación o inquietud alguna. Siempre estuvo segura de que todo se resolvería de la mejor manera. Ese control de sí misma me hizo sentir orgulloso y me dio la fortaleza que necesitaba para enfrentar  cualquier obstáculo que se me presentara. Recuerdo cuando le pregunté de qué color debería ser mi silla de ruedas y ella me respondió que por qué teníamos que preocuparnos por el color de la silla cuando se trataba de algo temporal. Eso me partió el corazón. Sin embargo, me encanta su actitud siempre positiva. Ella siempre ha esperado de mí lo mismo o más de lo que esperaba antes de que yo sufriera la lesión. No me da tregua, y eso me encanta.  Antonella hizo que mi corazón estallara de felicidad cuando en el show de talentos de la escuela secundaria dijo,  "Le dedico este baile a mi papá, la fuente de mi inspiración".

Y esto es lo que mi hija Arianna, de 7 años, escribió:

"Hola; soy Arianna, hija de Enzo. Yo amo a mi papá y no me importa que esté en una silla de ruedas porque ¡es divertido! ¡Yo me siento en sus piernas y él me lleva a dar vuelticas! Además, creo que es una cosa especial que él esté en una silla de ruedas.

Cuando él se fue para el hospital, yo no sabía que iba a necesitar una silla de ruedas. Pensé que solo se sentía un poco mal y que pronto regresaría del hospital. Pero cuando yo fui para el hospital y él me dijo que estaría en una silla de ruedas, sentí algo extraño porque nunca me había pasado algo así. ¡También estaba muy preocupada! En mi cabeza me preguntaba cómo sería tener un papá en silla de ruedas. Además, no podía imaginarme todo el trabajo que tenía que hacer por el solo hecho de estar en una silla de ruedas. Mi papá tiene una tipo de silla que le permite subir y bajar las escaleras que es ¡calidad!  Yo amo a mi papá".

A diferencia de Antonella, Arianna mostró siempre mucha preocupación, ansiedad y tristeza. Me partía el corazón verla así. Varias veces se acercó a mí para decirme,  "Papi, cómo quisiera que no estuvieras en una silla de ruedas" o "Papi, los hospitales mienten; te recibieron para ayudarte a que te mejoraras y te devolvieron en una silla de ruedas".

Ella siempre habla de mi silla de ruedas. Ahora está mucho mejor. Constantemente me llena la cara de besos. Cada beso me da la energía para seguir adelante. Mientras tenga sus besos, yo sé que estaré bien.

Dedico esta página de mi blog a mis 4 hijos. Ellos son mi mayor fuente de alegría. ¡Sus sonrisas, sus abrazos, sus palabras, su amor dan sentido a mi vida!

Rafa, Anto, Ari, Sabri, los amo. 

La próxima página del blog estará a cargo de Rafa y Sabri.... quién sabe, :)

Tonight....nosotros somos jovenes!

Tonight! Nosotros somos jovenes!

A traumatic injury tends to have some unintended benefits. It brings rich teachings not only for the victims but also for the people surrounding the victim. During my journey with spinal cord injury, I have always been amazed the impact that my injury has had not only to the people very close to me but to my extended family, friends and co-workers. For this edition of my blog, I have asked my nephews and nieces to write in their own words what my injury has taught them.

From Alex

“My uncle's injury and road to recovery has thought, motivated and inspired a lot of people that follow his story; including myself. Being an athlete, I tend to relate or apply some of these lessons to my career as a professional baseball player. The first thought that comes to mind is the awareness of one's own body. This injury reminds us how perfect the human body is yet how delicate it can be. It brings awareness on how to take care of our body to prevent such injuries. An athlete's weapon in battle is the body. It works as a machine that has to be put in to shape and be maintained regularly in order to perform at its best. An injury prevents us from doing our job, and without it we can't make a living. I attended to some of my uncle's workouts at Shepherds and got to see him work through various exercises to strengthen his body. I was amazed to see how similar all his core or abdominal exercises were to my training as a ball player. I now value some of these tedious routines I do as part of my training more than I ever did.

Going deeper into what this experience has meant to me, I can say that everybody that has been affected by this injury has grown up and matured to a more loving and unselfish person. I watch how Antonella, Arianna and Sabrina display their girlish love to their dad and I see how Rafael uses his size and strength to help his dad move around. I admire my uncles's ability to set aside the internal and external pain he feels in order to channel it into a happy optimistic point of view. He is as strong family man that sets aside his own problems to help others. As hard as it might be sometimes, he puts on a smile and moves on. He has learned how powerful his mind can be and how it can help him through these struggles. In the sports industry, athletes can't stay stagnant on their bad performances. Athletes do their best when their mind is clear of bad outings and are excited for their next. My uncle's experience is a reminder of that. I believe that in his mind, his injury wasn't a punishment rather than an opportunity to teach, motivate, help and inspire the people around him.

To my uncle, my godfather, and my friend. To show my appreciation for everything you have ever done for me, I got my glove sponsor "Rico Gloves" to add your initials next to my name on my baseball glove. “

 From Lucio Alejandro:

“My Tio Enzo is like a father to me! He has been an example of life and pillar to our family! He has provided me with many very special moments!

Thanks tio”

From Oriana:

“Things just happen. In the world things are constantly happening. These things are the ones that break our routine. Why are some of the things that happen good and others Bad? I tend to think that everything is driven by the power of intention. Intention comes from each of us and from GOD.

I really do not remember how I found out about my uncle's injury. I only remember thinking, "Woo, Why did he have to have such a complicated injury?

I asked myself several times what can I learn from this. Soon enough, I started to notice the reaction of the rest of my family. I realized that the injury had a different meaning to each of us. I think this injury came to our lives to remind us and show us some emotions and values that we take for granted. I was convinced Tio Enzo was one of the few people I know (if not the only one) that had the strength to live, learn, share and even enjoy such an unexpected experience.

The more I spend time with him, the more proud I am of being his niece. I admire his spiritual strength and his perseverance to improve his physical strength.  I admire his never ending desire to be happy and share his happiness with others, but above all, his youthful mind. He will always be for me my “tio joven” (my young uncle). He never stops. He always has a new plan to undertake. I love how he enjoys being around people, young or old. I love how he fights for what he believes and wants regardless of what people think. He truly believes in the power of his intension. I am confident his intentions are good if not the best.”

 From Eduardo:

“Knowing someone in a wheelchair never seemed a reality to me until my uncle Enzo had a spinal cord injury that left him paraplegic. I always associated people in wheelchairs to people who had a pre-existing condition, and therefore were at a disadvantage in life.  As it turns out, it’s quite the opposite.  It’s been well over two years since my uncle had his injury, and his disability couldn’t be any more normal. Everything he used to do prior, he still does, just from a seated position.

When he finally left Shepherd and began his normal life, I was not concerned about his ability to operate.  I was confident that Shepherd had trained him well.  My only concerns were how he would do at social events, outings, parties, get together, etc.  Undoubtedly it’s challenging for disabled people to stroll around in public places if they are not accessible.  Another concern was related to how other people would react to the situation: friends, family members, and strangers alike.

Not all countries, regions, or even cities are wheelchair friendly; I have noticed that in my travels in and outside the United States.  However, in the past several years I’ve also noticed that people can be unexpectedly helpful and concerned for another human being’s health, even though not everyone is really that nice and helpful.

 I think that if someone does not personally know or is not related to a disabled person, he/she could care less about making sure public places are accessible or making an effort to learn and discover about all the great things that disabled people are capable of.”

From Loredana:

“When I heard that my Uncle was being transferred from one hospital to the other by helicopter it sounded like a lot of fun. I really thought that Doctors needed to perform a simple procedure, something fast. I later learned that the situation was really serious. Being far in Venezuela, I thought everything would change (I mean my uncle's personality and way of being in front of the world ...) I thought I would not be able to go out with him. I thought I would not be able to enjoy with him our favorite Starbucks. I only had sad thoughts. I was completely wrong!  To my surprise, when I went to the States to visit him, I realized that “mi tio joven” (my young uncle) was still intact, and even regenerated. His emotions and motivation were still there. He wanted more than ever to continue to grow spiritually and fill people around him with joy. I remember telling my sister that I had not noticed any differences in my uncle’s personality. We still had fun together as we always do. My sister reminded me that the things that really matter did not change!  I understood how important motivation is to move forward, to fight for your goals, and primarily to improve. My uncle’s journey with SCI has taught me that the word "impossible" should not be in my head. With patience, hard work, dedication and the right attitude you can achieve everything in life. He taught me that there is nothing big or difficult enough to stop you from achieving what you want.”

From Victoria

“To mention each of the things I learned from Tio Enzo over my life is almost impossible. However, I will try to name the most important ones for me. Due to my uncle’s journey with SCI, I have been able to grow immensely. I had the opportunity to live with my uncle and aunt for a few months. Living with them is something I am deeply grateful. It was a life experience, learning and growth. Above all, Tio Enzo has taught me the important role that health plays in the spiritual and emotional well-being. His good attitude and enthusiasm despite his accident taught me that you have to be thankful for many things. Tio Enzo has taught me that a positive attitude is worth more than anything against adverse situations of life.

Tio Enzo has always been my support. It has taught me that having passion and love for what you do is the key to being successful and happy in life. He is one of my biggest role models.

Tio Enzo, I want to thank you for being the person you are. For making me appreciate my life more and more. For teaching me that you do not need to walk to take steps forward in life and that love and faith can help you do anything. I'm proud of you and Aunt Gaby and I hope one day, with the passing of time, you can feel as proud of me as I am of you”.

A spinal cord injury sucks! sucks big time. However, it has taught me and others the most valuable teachings.  I just wished the method of teaching had been a little bit more subtle….. J

I feel a lot of joy and satisfaction by knowing I am having a positive impact on people, especially on the people I love. If that is the reason why GOD placed me in this journey, so be it.

I dedicate this blog to all the people that my injury has impacted, has taught, and has changed because knowing you exist makes my journey smoother.

Teen again!

LA VERSION EN ESPANOL ESTA JUSTO DESPUES DE LA VERSION EN INGLES

Going to work everyday was not always smooth. I was not able to drive right after my accident. I had to rely on the kindness of my coworkers. One of my co-workers Boyd was super kind and picked me up every day to go to work. When Boyd was not available, either Clodagh or Keith would take turns. Sometimes, I took public transportation. How can I forget, the extremely long rides in Marta Mobility.  How can I forget the many times I got soaked wet as I got into the bus wheelchair lift. As you can imagine, this extreme dependence was making me very anxious.  Being able to drive again was an absolute must.

The whole driving milestone was a big deal for me, in more ways than one. First of all, it was hard. The first thing I had to learn, was to disassemble my chair and put it inside my car by myself.  Sounds easy? WRONG!   It took me many tries. 

The first time they taught me, it was hard and frustrating.  I remember leaving Shepherd in a very bad mood. How the heck was I going to be able to put my stupid chair in my car every time I had to drive? 

My cool therapist would tell me, don’t get discouraged; you’ll be able to do it. I remember my sister Angela trying to do it; looking for the easiest way to do it so she could teach me. After many tries, I was able to load the chair in 10 minutes. I was proud of myself. When I went for my first driving lesson, my instructor told me that 10 minutes was way too long. I had to get in the car and disassemble the wheelchair in less then 5 minutes… WHAT???? No way!

My first lesson was hard.  I remember driving extremely slow. My brain was way confused. My brain had to learn to accelerate and brake with my left hand when I have been using my right foot for this my entire driving life.  My instructor told me that before they released me to drive, I was going to need at least four more lessons.  In my head, I thought what about 1,000 lessons? 

The second lesson, I had a different instructor. This time a young guy way more of a risk-taker than the previous instructor. The second time felt much easier. I was actually having a conversation with my instructor while I drove. Of course, sometimes, I would forget that I was actually driving that my instructor had to remind me to accelerate… (this used to happen even before my accident) you can go faster than 20 miles per hour” he would say. At the end of the lesson, my instructor told me, I think you are good to go. Let’s get your car adapted and you will be ready to take the test. 

A couple of weeks later, my car was ready and it was time for me to take my final lesson. I went with my wife. I did it! I even drove on the highway. I was as nervous as a 15-year old driving for the first time.  At the end, the instructor told me, OK. You are good to go. You can drive. 

I took my car and I told my wife that I was going to drive straight to the office by myself. My wife was nervous as if I were her teen kid that was going to drive by himself for the first time. Are you sure? she asked. Of course, I said. Although, I was not sure at all. In fact, I was very nervous.  I had to do it. I had to get it over with. I left, as I was driving away from the garage, I could see the tears coming down my wife’s eyes. They were tears of happiness, of pride. I think she was also crying because she no longer had total control of me J.  As I always said, my wife was getting way too used to having 100% control of her husband: a dream come true!

I remember the amazing feeling I had as I drove on I-85. It was a feeling of freedom. It was a feeling of pride. It was a feeling of big accomplishment. It was a feeling of relief.  Driving was the last thing I needed to feel 100% independent, to feel 100% NOT-DISABLED!  I was able to drive and therefore I was able to go places by myself. I did not need anybody. I had 100% control of my life. I felt like a teenager again.  My thoughts went back to the very first time I drove my blue FIAT Spazio.  The first time I took my car and took the highway to go to La Fundacion Mendoza to visit my great friends  “Las Zambrano”.  When I finally made it to the parking lot of my office, I felt like a grown up. I felt that I was 100% back!

A few months ago, I had to teach my son to drive. Who would have said that I was going to teach my kid to drive only a couple of years after I learned to drive myself? I loved it. He did great. This was a big deal for me. Not only because I was proud of seeing my son drive but because I was able to teach HIM. Although for many, this is not a big deal. For me, it was.  It was God’s way of telling me that there is nothing I will not be able to do. I might do things differently, but I will still do them right.

I have been driving with hand controls for more than 2 years now. It totally feels second nature.  I can load or unload my chair in my car in less than 3 minutes. I even can drive and drink my Grande non-fat white mocha at the same time.

I dedicate this blog to my best friend and cousin Rosi as I remember how we learned to drive together the first time when I was just 18.  I am so lucky to have had her by my side since the moment I was born. We experienced many of our life’s milestones together, including getting our own Fiat Spazios the very same day. We were together in the best times of our lives and we happened to be together in the worse times of our lives, and although she was not by me during this part of my journey, she was with me anyways with her thoughts, her acts, and her words. Thank you, PRIMA.

SPANISH VERSION
VERSION EN ESPANOL

De nuevo adolescente

El regreso al trabajo no fue fácil. Después de mi accidente no podía manejar y para ir al trabajo, dependía de la amabilidad de mis compañeros, entre ellos Boyd, quien me recogía todos los días para llevarme para el trabajo. Cuando no podía Boyd, se turnaban Clodagh y Keith. Algunas veces tomaba el trasporte público. ¡Cómo olvidar esos viajes extremadamente largos en autobus! ¡Cómo olvidar todas las veces que me empapé con la lluvia al montarme en el levantasillas del autobús! Como pueden imaginarse, esta extrema dependencia estaba creando demasiada ansiedad en mí, por lo cual, manejar de nuevo era una necesidad imperiosa

Aprender a manejar significaba mucho para mí por varias razones. Era un reto. Lo primero que tuve que aprender fue a desmontar la silla de ruedas y colocarla en el carro. Suena fácil, pero no lo es. Tuve que practicar muchísimo. 

La primera vez que me ensañaron lo que tenía que hacer fue difícil y frustrante.  Recuerdo que cuando salí del Shepherd estaba de muy mal humor. ¡Cómo iba a poder meter esa estúpida silla en el carro para ir de un sitio a otro! 

Mi terapista, siempre tranquila, me dijo, "no te desanimes; aprenderás a hacerlo". Recuerdo que mi hermana Ángela se puso a practicar ella misma para buscar la mejor manera de desmontar y cargar la silla en el carro para luego enseñarme a mí. Después de muchos intentos, logré cargar la silla en 10 minutos. Me sentí orgulloso de mí mismo. Cuando fui a mi primera clase de manejo, mi instructor me dijo que 10 minutos era demasiado tiempo. Se esperaba que me sentara en el carro y desmontara la silla en menos de 5 minutos.... “¿Que qué? ¡Imposible!”, pensé.

Mi primera clase fue difícil. Recuerdo que manejaba súper lento. Estaba tan confundido; mi cerebro tuvo que aprender a acelerar y a frenar con la mano izquierda cuando para ello había utilizado el pie derecho toda la vida. Mi instructor me dijo que antes de que me dejaran manejar solo, necesitaba por lo menos cuatro clases más. Mientras yo me decía a mí mismo, “¿por qué no mil clases más?” 

En mi segunda clase tuve a otro instructor, un joven más dispuesto a tomar riesgos. La segunda vez, me sentí mucho mejor. De hecho, hasta pude conversar con mi instructor mientras manejé. Por supuesto, algunas veces se me olvidaba de que estaba manejando y mi instructor tenía que recordarme que había que acelerar...(¡nada nuevo, ocurría lo mismo antes de mi accidente!). "Puedes ir a más de 20 millas por hora", me decía. Al final de la clase, el instructor me dijo, "creo que ya estás listo para manejar solo". Vamos a hacer las adaptaciones a tu carro y estarás listo para el examen. 

Mi carro estuvo listo unas semanas más tarde, justo para mi última clase. Fui a presentar el examen acompañado por mi esposa. ¡Y lo hice! Hasta manejé en la autopista. Estaba tan nervioso como un adolescente que se sienta al volante por primera vez. Al final, el instructor me dijo, "OK". "Listo" "Puedes manejar solo". 

Tomé el carro y le dije a mi esposa que me iría solo para el trabajo. Ella estaba muy nerviosa, como si yo fuera su hijo adolescente que estaba manejando solo por primera vez. "¿Estás seguro?", me preguntó. "Claro que sí", le contesté. Aun cuando, a decir verdad, no estaba nada seguro; de hecho, estaba súper nervioso. Pero tenía que hacerlo. Tenía que superar ese obstáculo. Me fui y, mientras me alejaba del garaje, podía ver las lágrimas que caían por el rostro de mi esposa. Eran lágrimas de felicidad, de orgullo. Creo que estaba llorando también porque ya no tenía control sobre mí. Como siempre dije, mi esposa estaba acostumbrándose a controlar 100% a su esposo; ¡un sueño hecho realidad!

Recuerdo la increíble sensación que sentí cuando me desplazaba por la autopista. Era una sensación de libertad, de orgullo, de gran logro, de alivio. Manejar era lo que me faltaba para sentirme 100% independiente, sentirme ¡100% NO DISCAPACITADO!.  Podía manejar y por lo tanto ir a donde quisiera solo. No necesitaba a nadie. Tenía todo el control de mi vida. Me sentí nuevamente como un adolescente. Mis pensamientos regresaron a la primera vez que manejé mi FIAT Spazio …. la primera vez que tomé mi carro y fui a la Fundación Mendoza a visitar a mis grandes amigas "Las Zambrano".  Cuando por fin llegué al estacionamiento de mi oficina, me sentí como un adulto. Sentí que era yo de nuevo.

Hace algunos meses, tuve que enseñar a mi hijo a manejar. ¡Quién lo habría dicho, que enseñaría a mi hijo a manejar dos años después de que yo aprendí a hacerlo! Me encantó la experiencia. Y él lo hizo muy bien. Eso significó mucho para mí, no solamente por el orgullo que sentí al ver a mi hijo manejar, sino porque fui yo quien le enseñó. Aunque esto puede que no sea gran cosa para muchos, para mí si lo fue. De esa manera, Dios me decía que no había nada que no podría hacer. Quizás de maneara diferente, pero lo haría todo y bien.

Tengo ya más de dos años manejando con controles manuales. Ya me parece natural.  Puedo cargar y descargar mi silla en 3 minutos. Hasta puedo manejar y tomar mi "café moca ligero grande" al mismo tiempo.

Quiero dedicar este blog a mi mejor amiga y prima Rosi. Recuerdo que aprendimos a manejar juntos cuando teniamos 18 años. ¡Qué suerte haberla tenido  a mi lado desde que nací! Juntos alcanzamos nuestros primero hitos en la vida, incluso recibimos nuestros caros FIAT Spazio juntos, el mismo día. Vivimos juntos los mejores momentos de nuestras vidas y estuvimos juntos también en los peores. Y aunque ella no estaba conmigo durante esta parte de mi vida, siempre ha estado junto a mí con sus pensamientos, acciones y palabras. Gracias PRIMA.

Homeless in Toronto

La version en espanol esta justo despues de la version en ingles
The Spanish version is right after the English version

Last week I was in Toronto on a business trip.  After a long day of sessions my coworker and I went for a nice and well deserved dinner.  

On my way back to the hotel, because it was only 8 blocks away and not worth the hassle of taking a taxi, I decided to walk or wheel, rather.  I was enjoying myself as I wheeled the streets of downtown Toronto.  I love just wandering the streets of cities. When I do it by myself, it becomes a special time of bonding with myself. It becomes a special time to reflect.  When I was only one block from the hotel, I got to a point where there was a curve that I needed to pass for me to get to the hotel road.

Since I am still a wheelchair nerd, I was kind of nervous of jumping the curve with my chair. I did not want to take the risk of falling to the ground and not being able to get back to my chair.   I decided to wait until somebody would come along and ask for help.

As I waited, I saw 3 middle aged ladies and a grandma walking toward me. I decided to wait for them to ask for help. I did.  One of the ladies helped me make it to the other side. As soon as I was in the other side, the grandma, asked me with the cutest grandma voice “ Sir, we just had dinner and have some left over, would you like to have it?!!!!!!” Oh my GOD! I could not believe what my ears had just heard. The old lady thought that because I was on a wheelchair, I must have been “out on the street”.  I was too dumbfounded to come up with a clever answer. I just said “No, thank you ma’am.”  I wheeled for a block alongside the 4 ladies and said good bye to them as I saw their jaw drop of embarrassment as I entered the lobby of my 5Star hotel. 

As I went to my room, I continued to be astonished of what just had happened, I started thinking of the many clever and even spiteful answers I could have given the woman:

• No ma’am, I just had a large dinner myself and I am full.
• Sure, let’s see what you got?
• Are you kidding me?  How can you be so ignorant? What makes you think I am a homeless person?
• Oh no! ma’am, I am not a homeless person. I actually probably make more money than you ever made!
• Where in my face says I am your trash can?
• I wear Calvin Klein underwears

As soon as I got to my room, I called my wife.  I told her my story. We laughed together for a while. While in bed, I forgave the poor old lady.  She actually had the best intentions and she is not responsible for her own misconceptions.

When I got out of Shepherd my doctors wanted me to wait for a few months before going back to work. After a few weeks in my house, I got the itch of wanting to go back to work. I felt great. I felt I was already digging my new normal. I was actually getting bored of doing nothing in my house.  I was feeling way too anxious of not working.  I wanted to welcome every single part of my new normal. I wanted to prove to myself and the world that this was not going to stop me. I wanted to show myself that life would continue at its fullest. 

One afternoon, I called my boss and told him that I was ready. I told him I wanted to go back to work on October 1^st.  I immediately told my Occupational therapist. She arranged a visit to my work to ensure that work layout was accessible and that no changes were needed.

A couple of weeks before my start date, I got an e-mail from my boss with a list of 20 things/projects/stuff that he needed me to work on as soon as I returned to the office.  Ironically, that was the best e-mail I could ever receive.  Although the e-mail would have overwhelmed any able or not able body. I loved it. It made me feel great. It made me feel that the happiness factory had no doubt that I can do this….. bring it on babe! I am ready.My level of anxiety grew dramatically as the day for my first visit to my office approached.  I was very excited to see my co-workers, my office, and the place I have essentially “lived in”  for the past 16 years. At the same time, I was uncomfortable. I did not want to go through the pain of having to explain to the people who did not know what happened. I was terrified of answering the question “what’s the prognosis?”," is this temporary? ", etc.

My first day at work was great. My whole department waited for me by the elevators to give me the warmest welcome with a big welcome-back banner, cupcakes and lots warmth hugs, words and smiles.  Everybody was so supportive. When I got to my work space, it was already arranged in a way that it was totally accessible for me.. Everything was perfect. I had no excuses. However, during  the first few weeks, I did not get to do much of the 20 things in my list….not because I was on a wheelchair but because I had people coming to my office non-stop to welcome me.  I have worked for this company for 16 years. Many of the friends I have made during this time came to my office to offer their support, their genuine happiness for seeing me back and the warmest welcome.

I have been in a wheelchair for more than two years already.  Although, my humble self does not really let me comfortably say it, I am still adding value to the happiness factory. I am adding value the same as I always did but with more passion and thankfulness than ever.  The happiness factory has showed me that it is more than my place to work. It is the place where I get to spend a lot of my time with great people and friends. Going back to work was one of the biggest milestones of this journey for more reasons than one. It meant that I could continue to provide for my family like I have always done. It was the reaffirmation that my chair does not define who I am or what I am able to do, my brain does.  Since my brain is intact, I continue to be who I always was.  It helped me re-build my self confidence. It actually made me even more self confident, so much so that I humbly feel proud of myself. Going back to work meant going back to doing what I loved to do.

I dedicate this blog to everybody in the happiness factory for their invaluable support during this journey, for feeding my family while I was in the hospital, for the wonderful presents you sent to the hospital, for the countless prayers, cards, word of encouragement. All these provided   “oxygen” I needed while I was struggling with my health at the hospital and energy to continue my fight. I am thankful for the constant help and support I still get from all and each of you.

The grandma I mentioned at the beginning had no idea that not only I was not a homeless person but I get to work for the best company, for the happiness factory.

VERSION EN ESPANOL
SPANISH VERSION

De indigente en Toronto

La semana pasada fui para Toronto en un viaje de trabajo.  Después de un largo día de sesiones, me fui con unos colegas a un restaurante a disfrutar de una rica y bien merecida cena.  

De regreso al hotel, dado que apenas quedaba a solo 8 cuadras, por lo cual no valía la pena tomar un taxi, decidí irme caminando o, mejor dicho, rodando.  La verdad es que disfruté mi paseo por las calles de Toronto.  Me encanta deambular por las ciudades. Cuando estoy solo, vivo un momento especial de encuentro conmigo mismo; se convierte en un momento de reflexión.  Cuando ya me faltaba apenas una cuadra para llegar al hotel, me tocaba bajar un escalón de la acera para poder cruzar la calle. Debido a que todavía no soy tan atrevido mi silla de ruedas, me dio un poco de temor bajar el escalón con mi silla.  No quería arriesgarme por miedo a caerme y no poder montarme nuevamente en la silla. Decidí esperar a que pasara alguien para pedirle ayuda.

Mientras esperaba, vi que se acercaban 3 señoras de una cierta edad y una abuela. Decidí esperarlas y pedirles que me ayudaran. Y así fue.  Una de las señoras me ayudó a bajar el escalón. Después de bajar el escalón, la abuela me preguntó, con una voz muy tierna de abuela, "Señor, acabamos de comer y nos quedó comida, ¿la quiere usted?” “Dios mío, ¿qué digo?”, me pregunté. No podía creer lo que estaban oyendo mis oídos. La señora pensó que, como estaba en silla de ruedas, yo seguramente "era un indigente".  Quedé tan estupefacto que no se me ocurrió ninguna respuesta graciosa. Solamente dije, "No, gracias señora".  Las 4 señoras me acompañaron por una cuadra y luego me despedí a la vez que a ellas se les caía la cara de la vergüenza mientras yo entraba al lobby de mi hotel 5 estrellas. 

Mientras me dirigía  a mi habitación, no podía dejar de pensar estupefacto en lo que me acababa de pasar y comencé a imaginarme todas las respuestas que habría podido dar a la señora:

“No señora, acabo de comer y estoy lleno”.

“Seguro; ¿a ver qué tiene?”

“¿Es una burla o qué?  ¿Cómo puede ser tan ignorante? ¿Qué le hace pensar que soy indigente?”

“Ah no, señora, no soy indigente”. “¡Probablemente gano más dinero de lo que usted nunca ganó!”

“¿Qué le hace pensar que soy un pipote de basura?”

“Uso interiores Calvin Klein”.

Llamé a mi esposa tan pronto llegué a mi habitación  y le conté la historia. Por un rato nos morimos de la risa. Mientras estaba en la cama, perdoné a la abuela. Después de todo, tenía las mejores intenciones y no es responsable de sus propias  equivocaciones.

Cuando salí del Shepherd, mis médicos querían que esperara unos meses antes de regresar al trabajo. Después de unas cuantas semanas en la casa, comencé a sentir la necesidad de regresar al trabajo. Me sentía muy bien. Sentía que ya estaba viviendo mi nueva normalidad. De hecho, me aburría estar en la casa sin hacer nada.  Comenzaba a sentirme muy ansioso por no trabajar.  Quería experimentar todas y cada una de las realidades de mi nueva normalidad. Quería demostrarme a mí mismo y al mundo entero que esto no iba a detenerme. Quería mostrarme a mí mismo que seguiría viviendo la vida a plenitud. 

Una tarde, llamé a mi jefe y le dije que estaba listo. Le dije que quería regresar el 1 de octubre.  De inmediato se lo dije también a mi terapeuta ocupacional, quien organizó una visita a mi trabajo para asegurarse de que todo estuviera a mi alcance y que no fuese necesario hacer ningún cambio.

Unas semanas antes de la fecha de mi regreso, recibí un e-mail de mi jefe con una lista de 20 cosas/proyectos/actividades que él quería que hiciera tan pronto como llegara al trabajo.  Irónicamente, fue el mejor e-mail que haya nunca recibido. Si bien el e-mail hubiera abrumado a cualquier persona, discapacitada o no, a mí me encantó. Me hizo sentir de lo mejor. Me hizo sentir que la fábrica de la felicidad no tuvo dudas de que yo podía hacerlo... ¡Echémosle pichón entonces! Estoy listo.

Mi nivel de ansiedad aumentaba a medida que se acercaba el día de mi primera visita a mi oficina.  Estaba tan emocionado porque ya vería mis compañeros de trabajo, mi oficina, el lugar en el cual esencialmente "he vivido" en los últimos 16 años. Pero al mismo tiempo, me sentía incómodo. No quería vivir la dolorosa experiencia de tener que explicar a todos lo que me había pasado. Me aterraban las preguntas, "¿Y cuál es el pronóstico?", "¿Es esto temporal?" etc.

Mi primer día en el trabajo fue fabuloso. Todo el departamento estaba esperándome a la salida del ascensor para darme la más cálida bienvenida con una pancarta de bienvenida, ponquesitos y muchos cálidos abrazos, palabras y sonrisas.  Recibí tanto apoyo de todos. Cuando llegué a mi estación de trabajo, todo estaba perfectamente bien arreglado y a mi alcance. Todo era perfecto. No tenía excusas. Sin embargo, durante las primeras semanas, no pude hacer mucho de las 20 cosas que tenía en mi lista... no porque estuviera en una silla de ruedas, sino porque a cada rato llegaba alguien a visitarme.  Llevo 16 años trabajando en la compañía. Muchos de mis amigos en el trabajo vinieron a visitarme para ofrecerme su apoyo, compartir conmigo su genuina felicidad al verme de regreso y para darme la más cálida de las bienvenidas.

Ya tengo más de dos años en mi silla de ruedas.  Aun cuando mi " yo" humilde no permite que lo diga sin ruborizarme, sigo añadiendo valor a la fábrica de la felicidad. Estoy añadiendo valor de la misma manera como siempre lo hice, pero con más pasión y agradecimiento que nunca.  La fábrica de la felicidad me ha mostrado que es más que un lugar de trabajo. Es un lugar en el que paso mucho tiempo, con personas increíbles y grandes amigos. Mi regreso al trabajo fue uno de los hitos más grandes de la experiencia que me ha tocado vivir, por más de una razón. Significó que podía seguir manteniendo a mi familia como siempre lo he hecho. Fue la reafirmación de que mi silla no es lo que me define o me dicte lo que puedo hacer. Es mi mente que me lo permite. Y como mi mente está intacta, continúo siendo quien siempre fui. Me ayudó a reconstruir mi autoconfianza. Me hizo más fuerte, tanto que, humildemente, me siento orgulloso de mí mismo. El regreso al trabajo significó el regreso a lo que me encanta hacer.

Quiero dedicar este blog a todos aquellos que laboran en la fábrica de la felicidad, por su invaluable apoyo en esta experiencia, por alimentar a mi familia mientras yo estaba en el hospital, por los maravillosos regalos que me enviaban al hospital, por las infinitas oraciones, tarjetas y palabras de aliento. Todo esto me dio el "oxígeno" que necesitaba mientras luchaba por mi salud en el hospital y la energía para seguir luchando. Agradezco la ayuda y el apoyo constantes que sigo recibiendo de todos y cada uno de ustedes.

La abuela que mencioné al principio no tenía idea de que no solamente yo no era indigente sino que yo trabajo en la mejor compañía, en la fábrica de la felicidad.

Beyond Therapy

(La versión en español esta justo después de la versión en inglés) (The Spanish version follows the English version)

 I am much stronger, more stable and can do several things that I was not able to do before. I now can get off the floor to my wheelchair, my bed, the couch.

Before joining Beyond Therapy these simple tasks seemed almost impossible. My biggest accomplishment has been that I can now crawl (see my video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYfU0Fe_5sg).  Ahhh, how can I forget? I can finally arm wrestle my son without embarrassingly losing. J However, the journey is still very long. My therapists are working on strengthening my arms, hips and gluteus to help me stand and walk with clutches by using my hips to move my legs. To be able to do that I have a lot of work to do (and a lot of weight to lose L).

Sometimes I get discouraged and consider giving up my therapy.  I remember a couple of weeks ago, I woke up a bit blue. When I was driving to therapy, I was questioning if all the money I and my family were spending on this therapy made sense. Although we have a stable income, we really cannot afford it for very much longer.  At the end of therapy, GOD again surprised me with his messages. Just before I finished, Brandon one of my therapists told me: Enzo I am so impressed with your improvements, today was the best I have seen you crawling.

When my sisters heard that I was considering stopping it, they came with the idea of a fundraising.  At first, I was very reluctant. I just did not feel comfortable with it.  My sisters, my wife and my friend Clodagh from work convinced me:

Why do you have to feel guilty?

Mitt Romney is doing fundraising to support his campaign, why can’t you?

George Zimmerman (with his questionable cause) is doing fundraising.

Why do you have to feel bad about fundraising for something that is making a positive change to your life, to your family?

Many people want to help you, but they don’t know how. Let them make that choice.

I finally gave in and let my sisters start the campaign (see my previous blog post) I am humbled by the responses I have gotten so far.

I thank you dearly for your support.  Now I feel more committed than ever, I owe it to all my family and friends. I can’t let them down. I don’t know what my future holds but I don’t want to die regretting I did not try hard enough.

I dedicate this blog to the team at Beyond Therapy for their support, encouragement, patience and overall for making three physically excruciating (and painful) hours fun and even enjoyable.

Version en Español

Spanish Version

Beyond Therapy

En realidad no sé qué me depara el destino, sin embargo, siempre estoy buscando nuevas opciones, avances médicos, etc. que puedan ayudarme en mi recuperación. 

En mi búsqueda encontré el programa Beyond Therapy® (http://www.beyond-therapy.org/atlanta/about), un riguroso programa de actividades físicas diseñado para ayudar a las personas con una variedad de trastornos neurológicos a mejorar su salud y permanecer sano durante toda la vida, reducir al mínimo las complicaciones secundarias y aprovechar al máximo los nuevos enlaces que se establecen entre los centros nerviosos y los músculos. Beyond Therapy®  busca principalmente maximizar el retorno muscular y neural a través de un programa intensivo de fortalecimiento a través de actividades programadas que se centran en los músculos más débiles y en las conexiones nerviosas que pudieran haber pasado desapercibidas en las fases iniciales de la recuperación.

Oí cosas muy buenas de personas que han participado en el programa, por lo tanto, hace seis meses, decidí entrar yo también.  Beyond Therapy® es un programa increíble, a cargo de un equipo de la más alta calidad profesional y extraordinarias personas. Dedico de 6 a 9 horas semanales a un intenso trabajo de rehabilitación física.

Aun cuando el programa es extremadamente costoso y no está cubierto por el seguro, mi esposa, mis padres y mis hermanas me animaron a participar en él. Así lo hice y he mejorado considerablemente. Estoy más fuerte, más estable y puedo hacer cosas que no podía hacer antes.  Por ejemplo, ahora puedo saltar del piso a mi silla de ruedas, a la cama, al sofá. Antes de incorporarme a Beyond Therapy® estas simples tareas eran casi imposibles.

Mi logro más grande es que puedo gatear (vean mi vídeo en http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYfU0Fe_5sg).  Ah, ¡y cómo pude olvidarlo! Puedo jugar a la lucha libre con mi hijo sin perder  miserablemente. Sin embargo, el camino que aún me queda por recorrer es muy largo. Mis terapeutas están trabajando para fortalecer mis brazos, caderas  y glúteos, de manera que pueda ponerme de pie y caminar con muletas y utilizar las caderas para mover las piernas. Para llegar a ese nivel, tengo que trabajar mucho (y perder mucho peso).

Algunas veces me desanimo y pienso en abandonar mi terapia.  Recuerdo que hace unas semanas me levanté un  poco decaído.  Mientras me dirigía a la terapia, me preguntaba si tenía sentido gastar todo el dinero de mi familia en esta terapia. Aun cuando tenemos un ingreso estable, no podemos permitirnos este gasto por mucho más tiempo.  Al final de la terapia, una vez más Dios me sorprendió con sus mensajes.  Justo antes de terminar, mi terapeuta Brandon me dijo: "Enzo, estoy impresionado con lo que has mejorado; hoy has podido gatear como nunca antes”.

Cuando mis hermanas se enteraron de que estaba considerando abandonar la terapia, se les ocurrió la idea de recaudar fondos para ayudarme.  Al principio, no estaba muy convencido. No me sentía cómodo con la idea.  Mis hermanas, mi esposa y mi amiga y colega Clodagh me convencieron:

"Por qué tienes que sentirte culpable? " me dijeron.  "Mitt Romney recauda fondos para su campaña. ¿Por qué no puedes hacerlo tú?" "George Zimmerman (en nombre de una causa cuestionable) está recaudando fondos". "¿Por qué tienes que sentirte mal al recaudar fondos para algo que va a cambiar tu vida y la de tu familia de manera positiva?" "Muchas personas quieren ayudarte, pero no saben cómo". "Deja que sean ellas quienes decidan".

Finalmente me convencieron, y mis hermanas arrancaron una campaña de recaudación de fondos (vean mi blog anterior).  Todas las respuestas que he recibido me han dado una lección de humildad.

Les agradezco a todos el apoyo que me están dando.  Ahora me siento más comprometido que nunca. Se lo debo a toda mi familia y a mis amigos. No los puedo defraudar. No sé qué me depara el futuro, pero no quiero morir con el arrepentimiento de no haber hecho todo lo posible.

Quiero dedicar este blog al equipo de Beyond Therapy® por su apoyo, aliento, paciencia y, sobre todo, por hacer que las horas que dedico a terribles y dolorosos ejercicios físicos sean también divertidas.