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Tale of Stephanie Porter's Survival
Accident
A poem by Stephanie Porter
A drunk driver could have robbed me of my days to shine.
I scream repulsively
in silence about the time. Bitter moments still are recalled and I cry. I am so
mad. I want to know; Why?
My delicate life was almost in death gone, after the storm my parents felt put
upon. Frantically we were hit with a boiling mess. His car had crashed my head
into enormous distress.
Then worshippers whisper their true love, they leave "pounds of
chocolate" from above. The haul has always ached our will to thrive, the
long road is very tough to want to ever drive.
I wait for a moment to tell the story of why this is of no glory. Saying how
hard it is to come back will be sure to make some people yak
Having a brain injury is really no laughing matter, to know what it feels like,
attend a meeting and listen to the chatter. I try to understand what I go
through every day. The length of recovering seems like a big delay.
Dealing with memory deficits get in the way and the time it takes me to think
causes much dismay. I'd like to say to anyone who is going to drive:
It just takes a few minutes not to be alive.
I'd like to get drivers to see, that I was a child of just three. But it is in the past and I must move on, the memories though, are not all gone.
From Stephanie
Me, my baby sister, my mother, and father were driving home at a late hour on March 6, 1971. My father was driving, my mother was in the passenger seat in front and my sister, who was born a year before that in April and I were in the back seat.
We lived in Connecticut at the time, then in 1973 we moved to eastern Pennsylvania to Lancaster County, and than after 12 years we moved to Indiana, Indiana County because my father was transferred in his job.
The driver of the other car rammed into the side of the car where I was sleeping. I am glad I was not awake to see it, I'm sure I would have screamed my lungs out seeing the car coming right for us. I heard that my father had tried to swerve to get out of his way but that didn't work, so I think they feel guilty still that they didn't get out of the way. I was 3 years old at the time I was injured.
I was in a coma for a period of time and went home when I was able. Since there were no rehabilitation centers then, I didn't get any rehabilitation until 1993-94 in Jeannette, PA. I was a resident in their residential program in their apartments in Greensburg, PA. I learned so much from them, I learned that I am able to do things and that I shouldn't use the words "I can't" when I know I can.
It's really important
to me that people know what drinking and driving can do & what it does to
people.
Stephanie Porter
