CHAPTER 1

As told to me by my husband, Tommy.

January 19, 1987

It was raining when we were ready to leave Philadelphia. Tommyand Janice, my sister, both asked why we would drive and nottake the train. My father and I said that it would be easier andwe started for New York. We were going to see my brother inhis first Off-Broadway play. The ride was slow and steady. As weapproached North New Jersey on the turnpike, the rain began toturn to snow. Traffic slowed somewhat and the snow worsened.Our car slid on the ice. My father put his foot on the brake aswe were entering the toll booth ... as a matter of fact, it was thesame toll booth you see on the "Soprano's." As the side of our carwas facing traffic, I was knocked unconscious by a commercialvan. Everyone except Tommy, was injured. I was hurt moreseriously than the others

This was so frightening for everyone in the car. I was out ofconsciousness, so I did not know what was going on. My fatherhit his side and fractured his ribs; he was in a lot of pain and wasmoaning. My sister, Janice, hit her head on the front seat. Shewas sitting next to me in the back seat and was bleeding. Bianca,my friend was sitting next to Janice. Her body hit the side ofthe car and she was hurt all over; she was really frightenedand was crying. Janice noticed that I was passed out, my headback, leaning on the seat, and making strange noises. She saidit sounded like loud snoring. Janice started crying and huggedme and said, "Carol, Carol—sister, my sister." At that point,my father noticed and turned around and started screaming,"my daughter, my daughter." Then he just cried. Tommy waslike an angel; he said to my father, "Rudy, stop, she's going to bealright." Tommy jumped out of the car onto the turnpike andstarted waving down cars to stop, hoping someone would havea phone. The cars were sliding all over; two almost hit him, buthe didn't care. He wanted help for me and finally after abouttwenty minutes, he found someone with a phone. It was half anhour or so before the ambulance came.

When it finally arrived, it took everyone except Tommy andme to the Elizabeth New Jersey Hospital. I needed to waitfor a trauma ambulance because they didn't know what waswrong with me. After waiting approximately 1 hour, the traumaambulance finally arrived. Because of all the ice, snow, andtraffic, it was really hard for them to get me out of the car. Theycouldn't get the door open. That was the side that was hit. Sothey had to pry it open and break the glass. They had to takeme out straight, which is hard when someone is unconscious.They don't know if your back or neck is broken, so they have tobe very careful. As we were traveling to the hospital, my poorhusband had to sit in the front seat of the ambulance and watchthem work on me. At one point, he saw one of the men shake hishead as he was working on me. Tommy tried to get through thegate that separated us. He was like a maniac. The driver tried tocalm him down, but it was hard. They had to pull over on thehighway and calm Tommy down. Saying to him, "we have to gether to the hospital, she is NOT DEAD!

Finally, arriving at the hospital, poor Tommy was waiting aloneto find out what was wrong with me. Everyone else was taken toa hospital in Elizabeth, N.J.; they did not need a trauma hospital,thank God. He finally decided to call cousins Michael and Dan,since they were waiting for us to arrive in New York for the play.He told Michael there had been an accident and after Michaelurged him to tell him what was really wrong. Tommy finallysaid, "Carol is bad, Michael."

Michael said that he and Dan would be right there. Tommy said,"No, wait; you don't have to." Michael just hung up and he andDan arrived at Newark Hospital within the hour. I was glad tohear that, so Tommy didn't have to be alone. After checking mefor over 3 hours, the doctor finally came out and said there wasno brain damage, no external bleeding, no damage to the spine.Michael cried. But after some time, they found out that I hadsuffered a closed-head injury, which, in effect, was a blow to mybrain when the impact drove my brain into my skull. I had alsosuffered a fractured collar bone and fractured pelvis. After afew hours in the emergency trauma unit, the doctors were ableto tell my husband that my condition was stable. But there wasno way of knowing the outcome until I regained consciousness.I was taken to the hospital's surgical intensive care unit andlaid there, comatose for the next TEN DAYS. The doctors wereNOT very optimistic about my recovery. My family began togather. Tommy and Michael began to sit vigil at my bedside.During this time, my Aunt Ida, a very close aunt of mine, wholived in El Paso, Texas tried to contact me to see how the playwent. After three days went by, she thought it was strange thatI didn't return her calls since she did leave messages. She calledmy mother and asked her where I was. My mother could notanswer her then. My aunt asked if everything was alright; shehad to ask her twice before my mother told her. She was shakenwhen she heard what had happened, so, she tried to get a flightright away, but could not for a week because of the snow inNewark and New York.

After ten long days, I began to show signs of awakening, doctorsbegan to discuss possibilities of cognitive deficiencies andphysical disabilities. They knew I would probably have difficultywalking, talking and eating.

As the days passed, I eventually came in and out of consciousness.The only form of communication I was able to give was at timesopening of my eyes or squeezing someone's hand. My familyknew I wasn't brain dead but they had no idea just how seriouslymy brain had been damaged. Tommy and Michael asked if I wasgoing to be okay but the doctors had no answers to give. Theyjust didn't know ...

Tommy continued to explain to me the long and tedious hospitalstay that stretched out over the next twenty days in Newark. Iwas shocked and found it all very hard to believe. The reliefof knowing the answers to the confusing questions I had wassatisfying, yet frightening. Intently, I listened to him tell me thatI had been in a coma. This actually made me feel better, becauseI was now sitting up and talking to him. Then Tommy broughtto light the details of a time in my life that would change meforever. Not only a change from the injuries I sustained, butalso a change in the way I view humanity; I was able to observethose people who were helping to rehabilitate me and othersaround me.

Prior to the accident, I had an intense interest in health andnatural healing. Good diet, exercise and natural supplementshad been a way of life for me for almost eight years. Beinghospitalized presented me a unique opportunity to make a first-handobservation of the medical approach to healing seriouslyill people, of which I was one. The accident and its outcome arethe catalyst for writing this story. My real reason for writingit is best said in a quote from Mario Vassi, a great uncle to myhusband, "WHEN ONE HAS LEARNED TO OVERCOMEUNPLEASANTNESS IN THE COURSE OF HIS LIFE, THESHARING OF THE NOWLEDGE HE HAS GAINED MAYBECOME A SOURCE OF HELP TO OTHERS."

After many long days of drifting in and out of a coma, I beganto stay awake longer, but other complications set in. I was movedto a neurological intensive care unit for even closer monitoring.At this point, some swelling of my brain was showing up onthe brain scan. I also developed a severe case of pneumonia.This was the most intense part of my hospital stay. With thepneumonia, came daily suction treatments to clear my lungs. Atleast three times a day, I had to endure a tube inserted throughmy nose and down into my lungs.

The doctors had decided to prescribe a ventilator and a drugto reduce the brain swelling. The purpose of the ventilator (atube put down my throat through my nose) was to increasethe amount of oxygen to my brain. I would begin to be awakeon a regular basis now and found my situation to be extremelyuncomfortable. Tommy explained that it was necessary to takea check out of my blood gases about three times a day, andto do this, a small incision was made at my wrist and thenthey had to pump the blood out; this, I hear, was excruciating.Along with this, I was constantly being stuck with intravenousneedles and other assorted tubes. I managed to keep a prettygood disposition throughout all this discomfort, and I was stillgetting a huge amount of support from my family. According tomy husband, the nursing staff had taken a special interest in me.Their care was constant, twenty-four hours a day; especially, thenurse, Peter, who would always talk to me and brush my hair.

After many days of this grueling routine, the ventilator tube wasfinally removed and I was able to communicate with my familyand people in the hospital. In the beginning, I spoke very littleand mostly what I said was incoherent, not easily understood byeveryone. It was around this time that my cousin Michael, myhusband and my Aunt Ida were starting to take notice of what Iwould talk about. It's funny how things happen; she decided tomove to Philadelphia after all of this. She lives one block fromme now. My family noticed when I would wake up from mycoma, I spoke of conversations with deceased family membersand would ask questions about them. At this point I lost aconsiderable amount of weight and everyone was concernedwith trying to get me to eat. I couldn't eat and when I could, itwas very little. When the pneumonia finally cleared, and theswelling subsided, the doctors began to talk about sending meto a rehabilitation hospital closer to home. An attempt to makearrangements for this move was made by the hospital staff, butthe idea was rejected by the hospital in Philadelphia.

I was moved, instead, from the intensive care unit to a privateroom with a twenty-four hour day nurse. As I became clearerand more awake, I began to notice more pain, especially whereI had broken my collar bone. They had this contraption thatwas put on my shoulders and down my back; it was very heavyso I couldn't move. My family said I kept trying to get it off ofme; it was obviously very uncomfortable. The discomfort fromlying in bed for so long had heightened and it became harderto lie still. Some attempts were made at the most basic physicaltherapy, but I grew extremely uncooperative. I continued thispattern of being in and out of awareness. The doctors tried againto have me moved. This time the plan was accepted and planswere made for moving me.

Tommy explains to me that we took a long and uncomfortableambulance ride to Magee Rehabilitation Hospital in Philadelphia.This is where I first started to realize I was injured. As for thetime beginning with the accident to the move to Philadelphia,I have no recollection except for what I have been told. Michaeltold me how difficult it was for him when I left Newark Hospital;he had been with me the whole month every single day. So whenthey put me in the ambulance, he just stood there watching meand he said I waved and said, "I love you Michael, thanks." Hecried. This was a TRAUMATIC experience for my cousin. Heneeded to scream at times or cry. So to make it more bearable forhimself, he wrote what he was doing and how he felt about theexperience almost every day, which helped him cope with whatwas happening, a little easier. I would like to share this with you.After I was home about a month, Michael asked me if I wouldlike to read what he wrote about my stay in the hospital. I toldhim I wasn't ready. It frightened me to read about it. But aftersome time went by, I was curious and ready. So he mailed it allto me. I lay in bed one night and read it all. It took a long timebecause I was crying the whole time. Not because it frightenedor depressed me, but because it was so beautiful reading whatMichael wrote. First of all, he writes beautifully. Plus, it was sostrange ... I felt like I knew everything he had experienced.Nobody at this point had told me all the details.

CHAPTER 2

MICHAEL'S JOURNAL

"Nothing is as it appears to be evenwhen it is certain." Dr. Joy

1-19-87

Talking with Maureen (Michael's sister) on the phone waitingfor your arrival. We got into a deep conversation about life-/death—feelings about Dad, spirituality, and fear of exploringand entering the spiritual world. Excited to see you, I wentout and did a little food shopping. Special treats for you—youand your diet. During my phone conversation with Maureen,another call came through. I was watching the snow fall frommy window. It was Tommy; "There's been an accident." I got thenumber from Tommy; clicked back to Maureen and told her tohold on until I got back to her.

At this moment my connection to Carol was direct. CalledTommy; he was in the emergency ward at Newark UniversityHospital. I told him I'd be right there—he said wait. I asked andpushed for details. He said, "it's bad, Michael." Dan and I rushedto the train—it felt like minutes from NY to the hospital inNewark. Tom was alone with a bag of all of Carol's possessions.Carol was still in emergency.

My first tears came when the doctor came out and said thereseemed to be no brain damage, no internal bleeding and nodamage to the spine. All we had was unconscious Carol.

Called Maureen and she relayed it to other family members.

At this moment in time, my focus was on helping Carol toheal.

Finally, they let Tommy and me in to see Carol. Like sleepingbeauty—silent—eyes closed—glowing with life energy, yet on alevel unfamiliar to us.

    No hand squeezes
    No gestures
    Still ...

Talking quietly, turned into pleading, begging for Carol to comeback. It was a nightmare come true.

Dan was outside in the waiting area acting as a strong supportfor both Tommy and me.

... this night was the beginning of a process that accentuatedall of our strengths and fears.

Somehow Carol never seemed that far away to me. I rememberseeing my dad in a coma—he was moving to the other side.Carol in a coma—seemed to be fighting for life; even thoughshe was perfectly still, I felt her energy overpowering the entireroom.

Carol, you are truly a wonderful person.

Dan left at one point and Tommy and I continued our journeyinto the night. We made many visits to Carol. In her silent way,she responded:

    You radiate warmth
      beauty and
      love.
    Your silence hurts Tommy.
    Your glow comforts us.

A few hours of sleep in the ugly room.

1-20-87

I have a major mix for "Change in Me." When I arrive home,I cry, I scream, I lie on my bed in awe of the whole situation.Carol, come back—you have to!

I never made it to the studio. Dan went and did our work. Myworld was consumed with Carol. How could I make myselfstronger so that I could help? I needed to be strong in order togive at this level.

Feeling a little afraid to be alone, Warren came over to comfortme. During my sleeping period 1:00 a.m. Tommy called. Carolopened her eyes and made some sounds. It was such great news.I called the studio. A surge of phone calls and absolute electricenergy circled the entire universe.

1-21-87

Tom and I get Carol to stay awake for a little while. Now witha respirator and wires all over, Carol says, "I have to go to thebathroom." Before I could recognize her request, Tommy and Iguessed everything but ...

It's like some foreign language using hands. Very similar to signlanguage. Precise, as in a ballet. Gestures appreciated in a newway from my eyes. Every movement was a miracle.

After our moments with Carol, I left with Dan.

1-22-87

Major snow storm!

Many days in the hospital. My life purpose was to bring Carolback.

I became an integral part of a most miraculous process. Anopportunity to feel my spiritual energy take over. Verbalcommunication was slow—if nothing at all.

    Love is the answer.
    Love is what I began to feel stronger than ever before.

Carol, you have taught me what the words "unconditional love"mean.

My focus made me stronger. My strength helped Carol to grow.

The tubes seem so uncomfortable.

    wires
    beepers
    tape on your face
      your arms.

Oh God, help me stay strong.

- using a suction hose to take out mucus

- holding Carol down while she had her IV put in.

Pneumonia meant more mucusmore suction.

The more aware Carol became, the happier we were, yet, themore pain Carol felt.

I had to work on balanceon prioritieson understanding.

The body—WOW!

(Continues...)