Would you panic? God told me not to!

 July 11, 2023|Iraq Veteran, RRW VS VAMC, Veteran Healthcare

Robbyn Raquel & her daughter 2012

April 2012

Imagine sleeping beside your 12-year-old daughter when a seizure-like convulsion jolts you awake. You are conscious, yet you cannot see. There is only the most brilliant white light imaginable. And you cannot take a breath.

Not even the smallest one.

My diaphragm had stopped working.

It was paralyzed.

This happened while a cervical disc was entering my spinal cord at C5/6 in my neck. That disc would remain embedded in my spinal cord for more than seven months before I was finally seen by a neurosurgeon.

Immediately, I jumped to my feet.

I still could not see anything except brilliant white light. I still could not breathe.

Then I heard a voice.

“DO NOT PANIC.”

I will never forget the voice that saved my life.

In an instant, images flashed through my mind. I saw all the ways I had worked with breath throughout my life. I had been a runner. A swimmer. I understood breath.

And somehow, I knew what I needed to do.

I began trying to breathe.

At first, nothing.

Then again.

And again.

The breaths were so small they barely seemed real. But I kept trying. I was determined that I would breathe again.

Slowly, painfully, the air began to come.

A little more.

Then a little more.

Until eventually I could take a full breath.

As my diaphragm began to respond, my vision slowly returned.

Once my breathing stabilized, the reality of what had happened hit me.

I broke down in terror.

I called my mother.

I called my sister.

And I cried.

To be continued…

It is rare for someone to survive complete diaphragm paralysis. Respiratory failure is one of the most devastating consequences of spinal cord injury. I have known people with similar injuries who stopped breathing and did not survive.

Yet somehow, I did.

I believe I was spared for a reason.

For many years, I struggled to share this story. The medical trauma was profound, and this was not an isolated event. Healing enough to revisit these memories took time.

But I am here now.

And I am finally ready.

Thank you for walking this journey with me.

With love,

Robbyn Raquel Wallace