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Meadow Graham

April 9, 2025
Meadow Graham

On July 10, 2019, one of the hottest days of the year, my friend Alana and I headed out for a bike ride. For some reason, PJ’s Ice Cream was closed on this hot day. We got back on our bikes to head home. We rode through a bank parking lot as a shortcut. We did not cross the street at a crosswalk, as there are not many in the small hometown we live in, rather we planned to cross from a parking lot to a sidewalk. I did not make it across. It was the most dreadful intersection in my hometown, the Y! I looked both ways and started to cross behind my friend’s bike; it appeared safe. Suddenly I heard my friend, Alana, yell “Meadow a car is coming,” then bam, the car hit me. I flew over the car landing face down on the concrete. I was bleeding from my head, eye and knees. I was not coherent. I did not remember anything for the next fourteen days.

I was taken by ambulance to our local hospital, Riverside Medical Center in Kankakee, Illinois. Upon arrival, I was intubated and airlifted to Loyola University, a trauma center, in Maywood, Illinois, where I stayed for nine days, five of those I was in a coma, in the Intensive Care Unit, until being transferred to Shirley Ryan Ability Lab, a rehabilitation center in Chicago, Illinois for twenty-two days. I had a broken eye socket, deep wounds and rocks embedded in my knees, a road rash all over my body, and a traumatic brain injury. I had to learn to walk, talk, write, read, and eat again. I spent countless hours in physical therapy, occupational therapy, and speech-language therapy.

My parents were told my recovery could be a long road, a minimum of six months; I beat those odds. I do not remember anything about the accident, but I wanted to be strong once it was explained what happened, and why I was there. After extensive therapy, I started to excel at my activities. I was released (they called it graduated) from inpatient therapy on August 3, 2019. My family had a homecoming party for me, which included a processional by the police, fire department, several friends, and family. Everyone decorated the house and the yard. I was happy and grateful to be home, although I remember being extremely tired.

I attended outpatient therapy three times per week for the next three months while attending eighth grade part-time in person daily. Although I was recovering faster than anyone originally thought, I noticed a lot of changes between my friends and me. I was treated differently. I was ignored due to other thirteen year olds not knowing what to say to me. I understand now why it was hard for them, because I believe they could not fully process what actually happened to me. I was released to dance again, which I have done since I was two years old, on December 1, 2019. I started to relearn things over the next few months that I did not think I would ever be able to do again. I noticed my dance friends were distant toward me. My instructors were very compassionate and had the utmost empathy. They explained to me how hard it was for other teenagers to express their feelings toward me. I was also receiving special treatment, and that may have caused resentment. I did not know how to help them feel better, I just knew I was not the same girl I was prior to the accident, therefore we grew apart. I did have a few close friends who stood by me until I was fully healed and they helped me continue my dance journey. Going through such a traumatic experience truly strengthens and humbles you.

I am forever grateful for my progress, my family, my friends, and my teachers and my mentors. I still get mild headaches and a few migraines, but I am alive and doing wonderfully in comparison. I do hit the scars on my knees every so often sending me into a panic with excruciating pain, but that is mild in comparison to what I had gone through. I learned a lot going through such a trauma; most importantly, I do not take anything for granted in life, I only cross at intersections, stoplights, or crosswalks, and I value those close to me.

The biggest lesson I learned was how admirable my parents are. They sat me down and explained, that no matter what everything was going to be ok. They tried to not sweat the small stuff. They did not blame the driver of the car, although admittedly she was not looking forward while driving. She was an older woman. She was not texting or speeding. It was purely an accident. She also did not expect a bike to be crossing at that place on the road. My parents called her home five days after the accident, the day I woke up for the first time, to let her know it was not her fault. Her husband said she hadn’t stopped crying and thanked them for calling. It is these life lessons that I hope to carry with me for the rest of my life.

I have reconnected with friends who distanced themselves from me. I now understand why my trauma was hard for them to understand. I have a heart full of life and love, and I try my best to not take anything for granted. I live by the motto Live, Love, Laugh. I am in college now at the University of Wisconsin in Milwaukee, and I’m excited for the next three years. I am about to complete my Freshman year and it has truly been one of the best years of my life.

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