How many times have you had to ask yourself what success
means? What security means? When I think back to the day in 2017 that my work
vehicle was rear-ended, I am still amazed at how unprepared I was for what the
future would bring.
I had been a government employee for twenty years when I had my accident. I had gone to college for my profession, studied hard, completed internships, and passed the required tests.
The life of a park ranger was all-encompassing. I worked weekends, holidays, and night shifts. I considered this part of the job I had worked so hard for. I was born and raised on Minnesota’s Iron Range, an area of the state known for the economic challenges associated with mining. I had been determined to find a career that afforded me the things many people I knew back then had struggled to find - a steady paycheck with a living wage, health insurance, and a reasonable retirement. In short, security.
However, I eventually realized that this mix of outdoor adventure and steady income came at a price. I led a very unbalanced life. Eventually, I switched to an even scheduled, more secure position. I had a Monday-to-Friday schedule, and the holidays were now mine. I focused on myself and happily, my new marriage.
My husband and I were married for two years when the accident occurred. The passenger in a work vehicle, I rode along as my colleague drove us to a meeting. Suddenly, the traffic on the interstate ground to a stop. Without warning, we were slammed into from behind. Our seat belts saved us, but, in that instance, life would be changed forever.
It took days for the traumatic brain injury to fully set in. As the head pain crept in and my vision blurred, we fought to get adequate medical care within the workers’ compensation system.
But I approached this challenge like I have every other, pushing myself through vision, speech, and occupational therapy so I could return to the job I loved. When working from home for even one hour left me racked with pain and neural fatigue, my neurologist said it was realistic to assume I could never return to full-time work again.
The next morning a delivery service driver handed me a packet of papers. The same state I was working for when I was injured on the job had cut me off from not only my income but my health insurance.
My husband and I hired numerous lawyers. My therapists told me time and again that the fight, even if justified, was costing me untold progress. We pushed on, convinced the government I was so dedicated to would not abandon me.
Ultimately, every battle was lost. Every effort was dwarfed by intertwined government departments and a series of laws designed to minimize injured employees’ rights.
I plunged into a dark depression, questioning the choices that I had made. I examined my beliefs about what security actually was, and where it could be found. Ultimately, time, a caring family member, and a very astute psychologist pulled me from my dark place.
After another drawn out legal battle, I was awarded disability status by the federal government. This not only made me eligible for some benefits but finally felt like some acknowledgement of our struggles. I had been called a liar, told I was not trying hard enough, and accused of faking my injuries to receive pay without working. It would not be the last time I heard this rhetoric, but it would be the last time an employer held that much power over my happiness. The day the federal judge said she believed my testimony, I cried in relief. Finally, someone believed me.
My husband and I refocused our life. Eventually, we moved to a more rural (and cheaper) area. I spent the next years throwing myself into my recovery with the discipline and stubbornness that had guided my career. I redefined what success and security meant. I learned new ideas and made life changes through painful migraines and days spent in bed.
Eight years after the accident, I am still regularly overcome by days-long full-body fatigue. I have multiple vision impairments and severe cognitive disfunction. When the good days come, they are precious. Nature still soothes me better than anything else. Each afternoon, I stare through the window at the trees surrounding our home. A short walk down our street can refocus my thought process.
My idea of security has completely changed. My definition of success now would have been incomprehensible to me before the accident. Could I write down a definition of success and security now? No. I am happy to say that they are still changing, shifting as each new idea comes.
- Sara Scott
Oh Sara! Thank you for this eloquent and vivid content! You have described this situation so very well! I have not had to go through this struggle myself, but have been witness to it numerous times (currently watching my child navigate the chaos). Thank you for being so willing to share.
ReplyDeleteThank you for reaching out. I hope your family gets the support it deserves.
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