My Book.
I’m sure there are many reasons why you
have chosen to pick up this book and read it. Maybe your friend told you should,
or maybe you were drawn to the front cover, or maybe I convinced you to read
it. Whatever the reason may be, I hope that you finish my book feeling inspired
with a refreshing new outlook on your life. We never know where our lives will
lead us to, but I am confident we all have a good future ahead of us if that is
what we truly want.
Hello, my
name is Timothy, but you can call me Tim. I'm writing this book to tell my
life's story, and to help you understand what I had to go through to survive.
When I was 14 years old I was going through a RAMBO phase, the RAMBO movie just
came out and everyone wanted to be like RAMBO, well most boys did. I, on the
other hand, wanted to be a hero and do something for the world - something
important! I was in with the bad apple crowd, and they were planning to steal a
car but I wanted to join the Army. I
knew I could never join the army if I had a criminal record. I wanted to change
the world. I remember being age 14 and calling for my mom to come into the
living room to watch a television commercial. It was an army commercial telling
how marines could change the world. It also showed a really cool looking
Harrier jet take off without needing a runway.
At the end of the commercial it said "be a Marine, be a hero."
From then on, all I ever wanted was to do something about the mess the world had
gotten itself into. I wanted to be a marine, and getting to fly a harrier jet
was just an added bonus. I even started going on survival hikes with a friend,
running, playing war, and learning battle tactics. Little did I know at that
time that my life would take me in an entirely different direction? Before my
accident I was a typical 15 year old teenager living in Nanaimo BC, in Canada.
I was going to school and at that time I didn’t really have a girlfriend, I was
sort of scared to go down that road. I had more important things to do. On a
normal day, I’d ride my BMX bicycle to school, do my school work, and come
home. Most days someone would call. On September 11, 1990 in the evening my
friend called me. He wanted me to come and hang out at his house with another
BMX rider dude. In the 80s mostly everyone rode one. My more mature friend
Kevin and I were both big time adrenalin junkies and our plan was to move to
Vancouver with our bookworm friend Darren to keep us out of trouble and become
bicycle couriers in the big city. Darren was my friend I played war with. He
wanted Kevin and I to join the Army with him when we got to Vancouver. I still
haven't talked about it to my family. Back in my room Jamie and I were on the
phone, and we had a little brotherly argument. The argument was about whether
the bicycle shop would be open or not. Jamie said the bicycle shop was open,
but I swore that it was closed. We
nattered back and forth about that for a good ten minutes, until I said
"Put your money where your mouth is" and I bet him five bucks that I
was right. That sort of shut him up for a bit, but he liked to argue! He said
"let’s go down there and see". I was hoping it wouldn’t take long
because I was invited to the girl next door's house at 5:30. I was so excited
because she and I were finally going to watch some television alone. I thought I could speed up our bet by calling
the shop to find out if they were really open or closed but nobody answered the
phone so I was convinced that they were closed.
Not telling Jamie that I called, I rode over to his place anyways to
pick him up.
I told him
if the store is closed we would turn around and come right back, he agreed. I
also told him that I was going to Cindy's house and how I didn’t want anything
to mess it up. She hardly ever had the
house to herself, someone was usually there.
Jamie said, "Let’s go then".
He made it to the store first in a land speed record time just to find
the shop was closed for the evening. By
the time I made it there I laughed and laughed at him. He got off his bike for
a little rest, he leaned his bike up against the store front window to wipe his
sweaty hands off. Because I listened to what Cindy said and didn’t ride like I
was on fire, I didn't need to rest. As
we were preparing to ride back, the train went by a block away. It must have sent vibrations out because it
shook Jamie's bike so hard that was leaning up against the store front window
when it shattered probably from the metal handlebar being against the window.
We didn't have time to think about what to do because out of no-where, the shop
owner pulls up in his van. Jamie hopped
on his bike pointing downhill. I was pointing up towards my Mom's work, which
was two blocks away, he van roared its engine 2-3 times, as if he was trying to
scare us away. He didn't try talking to us or anything. Jamie took off like a
rocket downhill. Without thinking, I just took off too, taking on the steep
hill. My adrenaline was pumping so hard that I could feel it throbbing in my
ears. My 185mm crank set and my enlarged
front sprocket allowed me to manual ¾ up the hill. The van chose to follow me. I
tried to use my crazy maneuvering techniques to escape the van. It was getting
too tough to get up that hill, so I decided to turn around and go down the
hill. As I was peddling down the steep hill with gravity on my side I found
myself peddling for my life. I franticly made a wrong turn and found myself
going up another steep hill. By this time I was getting tired and my legs
wouldn’t move as fast as I wanted them to. Suddenly my rear wheel was
nudged. I couldn't believe that the fool
could keep up with my extreme peddling and power turns. By the time those
thoughts were finished running though my head, he hit my back bike tire again
from behind. I was catapulted into the back of a large parked car, hitting the
bumper and the back of the car very hard. All I could see was a really bright
light, it engulfed everything. I
couldn't move, it felt like I was not even in my own body. I could hear the van
stop and him getting out. I could sense
him around me. Then it felt like I was flying. He rolled me over to take my
wallet, to find out who I was, then he was gone; he probably went to report the
situation and just let the ambulance take care of the clean-up. All of this
seemed like it took forever, but it was only a matter of seconds. Still to this
day, I never got my wallet back. It baffles me as to why he felt the need to
steal my wallet. Maybe he was a serial killer and wanted a trophy to remember
this event. At the site of the accident I felt so alone, it seemed like it took
forever for the ambulance to get there. I vaguely remember the ambulance
drivers picking up my limp body from the cold cement. That night the Nanaimo
hospital was full and staff redirected me to a hospital in Victoria that was
also better equipped to handle my injury.
My Mom, later on, said it was a blessing in disguise. The hospital is
farther but I’m sure I could handle the drive. The drivers sounded pretty cool,
laughing with each other saying that they hit 210 coming down off the hill. We
were going so fast it felt like we were airborne. I wish I was more conscious
then, I would have enjoyed the ride much better. I can’t remember too much of
my stay at the Vic. General. I do remember a little bit, like my first drink of
Coke or my first cheeseburger. My Mom
was always there for me, I’m really thanking my lucky stars for that, but I
don't know if she really realizes how grateful I am. I suffered from a brain
stem injury. As a result my voice was gone. It was really hard for people to
understand me.
I also
struggled from not having balance. I could sit up for 2-3 hours, but my back
wasn't strong enough to keep me upright.
After a while of fighting for my life at the Vic. General and scaring
the hell out of the nurses by getting out of bed and attempting to walk out of
my room, and having my first hamburger, my first drink of Coke since I was
hurt. I soon left the hospital to back
home.
One thing I
learned early on in my injury is that you have to be able to do what you say,
because with this injury people don't believe what you say anymore. I should
rename my injury and call it "The Pinocchio injury" because it makes
some/most people lie like a carpet. I was home for about 4 weeks, and after
that I was on my way to the Gorge Road Rehabilitation hospital, in Victoria. It
was mainly to work on my physical body, my brain was all there, thank
Goodness. However, I did do some speech
and voice lesson work there. My mom was
there all the time at first, but as I got more comfortable and independent in
the hospital she came to visit me about 3-4 times per week at first.
I had a
roommate in my room for the first time ever since my injury. I didn't really like the idea of having to
share, but it turned out to be good. Morgan and I became inseparable; we even
started smoking together, something I never ever wanted to do before. It was not good for my breathing while I was racing
and I was told that it stunted my growth.
I always wanted to be a big boy so that I could stick up for all my
littler friends and be the hero.
Morgan and
I were so bored with the hospital therapies we started smoking together, to
pass the time. One day I sweet talked my
Mom into buying Morgan and I pack of smokes each. I didn't like having her
helping me kill myself, as Morgan and I were outside smoking. We met up with
this hardcore patient named Darren. He
refused all of his recommended therapies and that's why we referred to him as
being Hard Core. Morgan was scared of
him at first, until he started working his magic to make Darren laugh so hard
that drool would run down his smoke.
Right then, I could see Morgan relax, he knew that he could use his
talent to get his own way anytime he wanted.
I, on the other hand, couldn't use my funny bone to protect myself. I
needed my physical size and strength to be bigger and then I would feel safer. I tried to
avoid Darren, not because of him looking all challenged or anything. It was more the case of him losing it and
hurting himself, I couldn't handle that.
I knew he was human, sort of. I
didn't want to be like most of society and judge him on what a person could
see. I just didn't want to associate
with him too much because the slightest wrong move or, God forbid you said
something that he didn't agree with, he'd get all mad. He would get so mad and
even madder if he saw that you were right.
He'd start screaming at you and threatening you and your family, which
was a big no, no, in my books. No one threatens my family! Normal people have
gone missing for doing just that. I made
sure he only tried doing that to me once and then I had a little talk with him. His Mom was super shocked that he listened to
me so well. She asked me "what did you tell him?" I told her "I
never sugar coated nothing." I
right out told him if he wanted to be my friend and hang-out with the cool
kids, he'd have to show respect in our friendship. I made him understand that because
I don't care for people doing freaky things to me. Plus I lent him 5 smokes
that day.
My mom and I had this deal that I would never
have people around me that carried more than one cellphone at one time. I had a
lot of friends with more than one cellphone and multiple cellphones often means
they are either drug dealers or are part of a gang. Ironically now my support
staff and helpers all carry 2 cellphones at a time. So my mom would have to
just live with it. Back to my
story; Poor Darren must of have had a normality shock, meaning he was almost
normal for a few minutes. He asked Morgan and I to stop him from doing anything
dumb, because he made a bet with his mom that he could be good for a week. If
he did, she would buy him 2 cartons of
smokes. Then he could pay us back. Just then I could see my only female cousin
Christy had come to see me at the hospital.
I put Morgan and Darren on hold to go see Christy, I know it wasn't the
best buddy thing to do but I'm sure they could get over it. Christy and I hung-out together for a good 3
hours playing board games and then we snuck across the creek to the store for
Slurpee’s. By the time we got back, Christy needed to get going back home. We
said our good-byes. When I got back to hanging-out with Morgan and Darren, they
were doing the same thing and talking about the same stuff almost 4 hours
later, no wonder those two can’t keep girlfriends. A few days
went by without any mess up's from Darren; he said this'll be the easiest two
cartons of smokes he'd ever have to work for, until the last day came, then
what a dilemma. I caught my friend
Darren trying to force some girl that was in the hallway to kiss him, or
something. I heard her cry out for help.
Instantly it made me call security, even though the hospital security dude
couldn't really do much. He was an 85 year old guy in a motorized cart. Me and
my manual wheelchair made it there faster and that gave me the opportunity to
pull Darren off the girl and throw in a few punches of my own, that's before
the old security dude arrived.
My Mom was
talking to us about Darren's behaviour and how she wouldn't let me roam the
hospital halls if I was a threat to others.
Darren's Mom wasn't too worried about what her son did and that's not
right, but I can see it through her eyes too.
Darren couldn't always control himself and that wasn't his fault. I feel
the hospital should have been keeping more of an eye on him. Morgan and I would try and keep Darren busy;
well it was more like he kept us busy. One day, Morgan
was feeling adventurous. He said to me
we should take Darren with us to go get Slurpee’s. How dumb of us, we simply asked what would
happen to us, if we got caught with Darren. The really cool doctor said his mom
could have us charged with kidnapping and that's if we didn't drop him or his
chair when crossing the creek. Morgan got all mad at the hospital, he was
yelling and carrying on about the good thing he could have done for his friend
Darren. All Morgan wanted to do was make his friends day and give him a new
experience, but everyone at the hospital would not let him.
My mom
cheered me up by bringing me home. She had heard about this foundation that
would grant a lifelong wish to someone who suffered from a life altering
injury. They were called, "The Sunshine Foundation". My mom told the foundation all about me and
about my school group I ran and all about my BMX career and everything. The Sunshine foundation agreed to replace my
old Robinson bicycle that I was injured on,
with my dream bicycle, a custom gold plated and gloss black, Auburn
cr20rx BMX. "The Sunshine
Foundation" also agreed to put my family, my one-on-one worker and one of
my best friends up in a high class hotel for the weekend. The best-friend that
was with me the night of my accident, Jamie, was in jail. I asked my other
best-friend Mike if he wanted to come and spend the weekend in Victoria with me
to see the "BMX Nationals," he really flipped out and before I hung
up the phone, he was already in my driveway.
It was going to be a great experience for us
both, lots of pretty girls our age and lots of food. "The Sunshine
Foundation" planned to present the new bike to me at "The BMX
Nationals" in Victoria. Most of my
BMX friends were there at "The BMX Nationals", there were lots of
T.V. camera’s and radio station equipment there too. The builder of my bicycle was also the owner
of Esquimalt Cycle, which also happened to be one of the only shops in
Esquimalt that really catered to the BMX bicycle riders. The store was located
just before entering Victoria, a perfect spot.
Phil Montag, the owner, even though he was older, he still raced and
raced well. He even had a cool race
name, "fossil phil". Phil announced that "The Sunshine
foundation" was at the Nationals today to present a trophy bicycle to a
racer who was injured in a motor vehicle accident. The rider was in "The Gorge Road
Rehabilitation Hospital" getting better, everyone cheered for that. Before the Robertson bicycle (the bike I was
rundown on) I owned a Quad-angle bicycle that was just like the bicycle that
Tony Hawk owned and showed off in all his skateboarder movies. My bicycle
looked way nicer, with a hot-hot paint job, custom painted by the boy's down at
Nanaimo Harley Davidson. My Quad-angle
was a jet black bicycle, with one side dip in a (white) mother of pearl paint,
with 69 coats of clear, I added that just to get some big laughs from the boy's
at the shop, that’s where I got all my painting work done. My quad-angle was the bike I owned before I
owned my Robinson. The Robinson I owned after my quad-angle, was a super
dark-dark green almost black with a spooky green glow to it, probably because
it really did glow in the dark all the time. Like you couldn’t shut the glow
off; it was almost like the paint was alive. The Auburn cr20rx was my 3rd
custom trophy bicycle that I was lucky enough to own. The paint on that was
normal gloss black and 18 karat gold. The 3 nurses that were on staff that
weekend were all cheering for me, and said that they listened to the radio
broadcast and heard the whole production. My favourite night nurse stayed at
work, just to welcome me back and to see my trophy bicycle. I was so proud of my dream bicycle! I even displayed it in my hospital room. Only two people in the world got the
privilege to ever ride my Auburn, the night staff nurse who welcomed me back
and myself, well I couldn’t really ride it.
But then I
was so lonely there my Mom thought I could try Nanaimo Hospital's in-patient
therapy for a two month trial period, to see if that hospital could work. I was so excited about being way closer to
home. My friends could even come see me; it would be great being home every
night for dinner! No more hospital
dinners. Although being there would mean I’d need to use an alias name, so that
the freaky old man, that ran me down originally, could not find me if he called
in to the hospital, I was known as "Anthony Adam's" or "Tony
Adam's". I felt that the name was great; I would have loved to of kept it.
The new name would move me to the top of every list, my original name “Tim
Parnett” always made me come in at the bottom of the of a list. Alphabetical
order, you know, man it sucked. They use
it on important lists such as the hospital dinner line or the laundry line and
the list of people going to see a movie line.
It's also was my cousin's name and my grandfather’s name too; so that
kept a reminder to me to always keep my family close, just like Kevin says. He’s one of my racing team-mates that always
say’s "Always keep your family close, cause who else do you have in the
game". Speaking of
family, my Mom and Dad would come up to the hospital most nights, because now I
lived so close. At Nanaimo’s hospital, I was in the recovery end of the
hospital, no one there was in too much danger of dying, so the crash cart light
was not on, all that meant was that patience could travel in the halls no one was
going to run you down if you’re in the way. I was a little lonely even there not
being able to be the center of attention was hurting me. James was working with
my Dad together, because I was still hurt. I guess James told my Dad about this
girl I was extremely interested to surprised me I guess James, told Anna, that
I wanted to see her. After dinner her and her friend came up to the hospital to
see me. I’m guessing James told my dad that Anna, was more mature than any
other girl I knew, in the upstairs area because when Anna, came to visit my dad
was in the room. Anna, was a younger girl built like a mature lady, when my dad
saw that he did not want to leave the room because of what he read in the book
about brain injured people wanting to touch her goods. My dad was very worried
about her reaction if I made unwise and immature move. If I made that immature
move, she could of hit me in the head causing more of an injury, that’s why my
dad would not leave my side when she was visiting me.
There’s a
story going around most hospitals about a little girl who got decapitated from
being hit by a crash cart, when they were speeding it in to the operating room.
That story may, have some un-true parts, but I can see some ways it could be
true. I told my Mom about it and she said that the staff probably just made it
up, cause there was way too many people in the halls, just in case the story is
true, I’m going to stay in my room a bit more and only go from point A to point
B and not wheel around in the halls anymore, just until this scare passes. My Mom read
everyone in my room a bedtime story before she left to help us fall asleep. The
story she read was called "The Ring of Bright Water and The Tales of
Knop”. That story seemed to really help all of us sleep so, much better than
the hospitals sleeping meds would. The
other men in the room thought that too and they were very thankful for my Mom
doing that. I had friends in Nanaimo
that would come to see me and I had family there too, so I felt my stay at the
Nanaimo Hospital was a good experience, if only they were better equipped to
handle my injury. After a lot of
arguing, I agreed to return to "George Road Rehabilitation Hospital"
again, for my recovery. I enjoyed being
home and all but, I knew that if I wanted to make a better recovery I couldn't
stay in Nanaimo; their hospital could not pass a Mother's strict regulations.
About a week before I went back to "The George Road Rehabilitation
Hospital", I was outside waiting for my Mom to come up, she said she was
going to bring someone.
just finished my therapy sessions in “The
Nanaimo hospital” for the day and was outside working on my book. Mom and Morgan came, I was just sitting there
writing away at the table when that candy-ass acted like he lost control of his
truck. Letting it bang into the table I
was working at, talk about freak me green.
I'm sure if the shoe was on the other foot I would have probably done
something as bad or even worse to him. My 2 month trial period was up at the Nanaimo
hospital and I had to be honest with my workers and my family and tell the
truth, The Nanaimo Hospital wasn't good, it was more geared to the elderly
who've suffered a stroke. I had to say
good- bye to friends again and go through with all that missing them stuff, no
one should need to do that more than once in their lives. I didn't want to go
to Victoria again, but I knew if I wanted a more normal life, I needed to get
to the "Gorge Road Rehabilitation Hospital".
to read more buy my book.
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