Alex G.
Photography by Alyse Stauffer
Dear Reader,
In this letter, I discuss my experience with a near-fatal car accident in detail, alongside thoughts of death. If you believe this topic will trigger you, I encourage you to take care of yourself and be prepared to access any necessary resources— some of which you can find on our Resources Page. Even though my experience was negative and filled with highs and lows, I assure you that you should not give up what you love doing most.
With love,
Alex G.
If you’re reading this, do not give up what you love doing most.
Almost three years ago, an event changed my life forever. At this point, I had just been admitted into New York University and had a perfect high school grade point average. I loved my family and my friends, and it was reciprocal. I had thought nothing could go wrong; I loved my life and was grateful for every minute of it.
I was driving back from high school because I had two free periods and preferred to go home and study surrounded by the people who supported me the most—my family. The drive was familiar to me; it was a slow yet smooth drive on the main road until I got to my house. However, I never made it home that morning. I do not remember the collision, nor do I recall how much time passed before I woke up on the side of the road. I noticed through my cracked windshield that I was facing oncoming traffic, which was not a distraction from all the smoke inside the car.
A stranger helped me out of the car, but I felt helpless. Not only did I feel helpless as I walked out of the car, but I became dreary when I saw the aftermath of the motor vehicle accident. The entire front of the car was pushed inwards, the engine was dragged across the floor, and pieces of my car were scattered all over the two-way main road. The pain slowly started to settle in, but I could not stop crying because the car being broken was my main concern. I called my parents to ask for help, but I did not precisely say what it was because it would come across as a shock to them. Luckily, one of my parents had not gone to work yet, and they came over to see what the “small issue” I said was about. As soon as one of my parents got to the scene, that is when the physical and mental pain set in. I saw my mother in total distress, and it hurt me to see her like this. The most painful words I heard that day came from a sheriff, “I see a lot of accidents like these, and I am surprised that you are not dead.” Of course, I began to overthink, and I negatively took this, and I began to question myself: Does this mean I should be dead? Why did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this? Lastly, will I be okay?
Fast forward to being admitted to the hospital, I discovered that I had fractured a part in the thoracic region of my spine, obtained a concussion, and experienced neck and back pain. I met with several doctors to follow up and discuss a plan to recover from the brutal accident. One of the doctors had mentioned that this would alter me as a person, but he reassured me not to take that with a negative connotation. It would set me back mentally. It would take longer to process material, memorize concepts, etc. The recovery process was and is long, and I am still undergoing the recovery process, experiencing these symptoms, along with short-term memory loss. I notice that things are more challenging, but I remind myself that I have a purpose and an end goal. No matter how long it takes, I will ensure I do it.
Ever since I was young, I have wanted to become a physician. It was what I wanted to do and what my grandfather wanted for me. When I was younger, over the phone, he would tell me, “Alexi, ti do të bëhesh doktor i gjyshit.” Derived from the Albanian language, the translation of his simple plea was: “Alex, you are going to become your grandfather’s doctor.” Not a day goes by that I have not thought of those exact words; they resonate and inspire me.
However, due to the tragic accident, people have told me I should reconsider the path I wanted to follow. When people told me this, it felt like you put salt on a wound. I would not only be letting my grandfather down, but I would also be letting myself down. Ultimately, I knew I had to prove the others wrong. So, I decided to dedicate my life to becoming a physician. Not only because physicians had helped me personally to heal from this setback, or because they have helped several of my family members to live to see another day, and not only because they risk their lives for the wellbeing of others. One medical setback we have in life does not determine the future or define who we are. I want to instill that mindset in my patients and my surrounding environment. We are more potent than we think, and we will overcome any obstacle that comes our way.
So, to answer the question from earlier: “Will I be okay?” Well, I am not entirely sure yet. The road to recovery is still under process, but that is not stopping me from doing what I love most. Firstly, remember why you started in the first place, and stay true to yourself throughout the process. Secondly, you should never doubt yourself and your true potential. Be proud of yourself for all of your accomplishments– no matter how big or small they may be. Lastly, nothing or nobody should prevent you from doing what you love most.
Alex G., New York University
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