iamviable campaign #269

iamviable campaign

My name is Bryan, I was born with spina
bifida, a birth defect that stops your spine from connecting to your
pelvis. I am in a wheelchair and will be for my whole life. At the
begining of January I had to have metal rods put into my back because I
developed a severe case of scoliosis. Those rods made my life a living
hell. I had to depend on people to help me with everything. Before the
rods were put in my back I was very independent. I could do almost
everything myself except for getting food or something to drink. After
the rods were put in I had to depend on people to help me do everything.
I could no longer bathe myself, dress myself, even get out of bed by
myself. After about two weeks I tried getting a shower alone, and it
went pretty well, but when I tried to crawl out of the shower I fell and
hurt my back very badly. I remember sitting up and wondering “Why God?
What is the point of having these rods?” Then I told God I hated Him and
told Him to leave me alone. That’s when things started getting worse.

About a month after I stopped believing in God I got a blood clot in
my left knee due to lack of mobility. So here I was back in the hospital
and angry at God and just life in general. I remember laying in the
hospital bed thinkiing “Why God? Why me? Haven’t I had enough?” Then I
heard a noise in the hallway so I looked out into the hall to see what
the noise was. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to
see. I saw a mother pulling her child in a wagon behind her. The child
was playing with a teddybear and I noticed that the child had no hair.
It took me a minute to realize that the child had cancer. So here I was
complaining about a blood clot that would get better in just a couple of
days and that child looked so content playing with her teddybear even
though they were dealing with cancer. So I thought, “OK God, I get it,
I’ll shut up.” And even though I still didn’t want to believe in God, it
was still an eye opener.

So a few days later I was released from the hospital. The blood clot
was gone, and life could finally start getting back to normal. After I
had been home for a few days my mom noticed that I was getting a
pressure ulcer (also known as bed sore) on my left butt cheek, so she
took me to a wound care center and the doctor said that I had to stay in
bed and stay off of the sore to help it heal and go away. Right away I
thought “I just spent a week in a hospital bed. There is no way I’m
gonna go home and lay in bed all day.” So I didn’t, and the sore
continued to get worse until it grew to the size of a fist. It was so
bad you could see my hip bone sticking out through the muscle. Even
though I knew it was in really bad shape I still refused to lay in bed,
and the sore ended up getting infected and the infection reached my bone
and it made me very sick.

So here I was back in the hospital with an Infection in my bones. It
wasn’t until after the doctors got rid of the infection that I learned
the infection I had was very fatal and it could have easily killed me.
After we got the infection cleared up my mom took me back to the wound
care center and the doctor there said I had to have surgery to fix the
sore because it was too weak to heal itself, so there I was back in the
hospital unable to get up. At this point I became very depressed, and
began to distance myself from my friends.

When I got home from the hospital I was under strict orders to not
get out of bed, so I was forced to stay in bed all day every day. My
depression got so much worse at this point I wanted to die. I had my
suicide all planned out. But every time I thought about suicide I also
thought about my mom, and I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her
behind wondering if she did something wrong, or if there was anything
she could have done to help me, so I held on just for her.

After a few months of complete bed rest I was able to get up for a
few hours a day. But while I was in bed rest my right hip popped out of
its socket and my leg wouldnt go where I wanted it to. So I went to my
orthopedic surgeon to see if he could fix it, but he said that something
was wrong with it and it wasn’t moving at all. Then he said he wanted
to remove the hip completely. So here I was again back in the hospital,
hating life and God, wondering why He would make me go through all of
this. After my doctor took out my hip he told me that when it popped out
of socket all of the muscles around my hip died, so that’s why it
wouldn’t go back into its socket.

When I got out of the hospital my mom signed me up for physical
therapy to regain my strength that I had lost while all of this was
going on. I wasn’t really interested in going but I went anyway, and I
actually ended up liking it. So after going through physical therapy for
almost two weeks I began thinking maybe all of the bad stuff was behind
me. Maybe after a year and a half of medical problems, depression, and
suicidal thoughts, life might go back to normal. I was wrong, of course.

After three weeks of physical therapy I began getting sores right
down the middle of my back. So my mom took me back to my orthopedic
surgeon, the same guy who took out my hip. He looked at the sores on my
back which had started oozing some nasty clear liquid. When he saw the
weird liquid stuff, he said he didn’t like what was going on, so two
days later I was back in the hospital and had to have major back surgery
to see what was wrong with my back. The doctor called it an
“exploratory surgery” to see what he could find. After the first
exploratory surgery he told me that the rods he put in my back almost
two years ago were very badly infected and needed to be removed ASAP. So
the next morning at around nine a.m. I was taken back into surgery to
have the rods removed. The infection in my back was so bad that the
metal rods themselves were caked with infection. After the rods were
removed things finally started going back to normal, but one thing was
bothering me. I told God that I hated Him, said He needed to leave me
alone. I was scared that it was an unforgivable sin and that I was
damned even though I didn’t really want him to go away.

So I got a hold of my pastor from my church and he came to see me in
person. When I told him this story I’m telling you now I asked him if
what I said to God was unforgivable. He smiled at me and simply said
“no.” Hearing him tell me that I could be forgiven was the best thing
ever. He told me that God doesn’t see one sin being worse than another.
To God sin is just sin and yes I could be easily forgiven. So I’m very
happy to tell you that as of November 19th 2011, I am a Christian and
loving the life God has given me.

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