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Albert Camus

Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.

Monday, August 17, 2015

a true story of loss, faith, and a rare love - Fractured Not Broken by M. Weidenbenner, Kelly Schaefer

AWARD-WINNING and BESTSELLING AUTHOR
Parts of this memoir appeared on ESPN and in Rosie.
Fractured Not Broken is a true story of loss, faith, and a rare love that only happens in nonfiction.


Description:

AWARD-WINNING and BESTSELLING AUTHOR

Parts of this memoir appeared on ESPN and in Rosie.

Fractured Not Broken is a true story of loss, faith, and a rare love that only happens in nonfiction.

In a sweeping and heart-wrenching narrative, Kelly exposes the truth about what happened after a drunk driver rendered her a quadriplegic. She shares how she found her way back—through faith and pain, her community, her family, and the love of a man she’d prayed for.

"This book has been a true encouragement to me. Thank you Kelly for sharing your story— the loss and the unexpected joy— so that each reader can be uplifted knowing there is a full, rich life available to those who lean in to our Lord Jesus."  Renee Bondi Award-Winning Singer and Songwriter

"Life has its tragic moments of defeat, setbacks, and fracturing for everyone. Kelly's story proves, however, that individual momentum, personal progress, and genuine achievement can still be attained. Her courage and optimism are uplifting. Open these pages and experience the joy of ultimate victory."  - Dr. Dennis E. Hensley, Author Jesus in All Four Seasons

"This is a real life story of heroic virtue—especially of courage, humility, and generosity—a triumph of faith, hope and love. This story involves the very essence of the human spirit, family, and community. To know Kelly and her journey of miracles is to know that with God all things are possible." -Most Reverend Charles C. Thompson Bishop of Evansville

EXCERPT





Fractured Accident Scene
from Chapter 8

Circular lights blared down on me. Hot searing pain stabbed my neck. I cried out, but my voice came out garbled and weak. My lips were parched.

“We’re giving you something for pain right now, Kelly,” the nurse said. She shot the fluid from a needle into my IV bag and the pain ebbed.

It’s all over, Kelly,” the surgeon said, his blue mask resting on his forehead below his surgical cap. “You did well. I put five screws and two plates in at the back of your neck. I used bone from your hip and fused C-3 to C-4 and C-4 to C-5. Your hip and neck will be sore here.” He pointed to his hip and the back of his neck. “It’ll take a while to recover. The nurses will slowly elevate you to a more upright position, and eventually you’ll start physical therapy, but for now, think baby steps.”

Will I walk? I tried to remember if he’d told me. Maybe I missed that part of the conversation. The drugs were probably making me forget. Before I could ask him, the surgeon faded into darkness.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a different location. They must have wheeled me somewhere else, but I didn’t know where, and I didn’t know how much time had passed. My head was locked in a brace, so I was unable to figure out my surroundings. Where was Mom? What day was it? Was it morning or night? Was it yesterday that Eric and I were riding horses together?

Then in a blink, everything rushed back—the accident, the surgery. Eric was still at the other hospital, recovering. Was he okay? I need you, Eric. Dear God, please make this nightmare go away. Why me? I closed my eyes, working to succumb to the drugs.

Suddenly, a glob of phlegm caught in the back of my throat. I had to cough, but I couldn’t. My eyes flicked open. Fluorescent lights. Suspended ceiling. I couldn’t turn my head. I was drowning! Who was there? Anyone? I needed to sit up. To cough. Choking. I can’t. Breathe. Please. Someone help me. Where was the call button? There wasn’t one. Even if there was, I couldn’t press it. I was trapped inside my own body. No air. I couldn’t even…cry… out.

I saw myself from above—outside of my body, my hair gnarled and splayed on the pillow. A silver brace encircled my neck, its appendages sitting on my shoulders, lifting my chin. Tubes sprouting like spider tentacles twisting around my body. Was this how I would die?

Two nurses rushed to my side. “We have to intubate you,” one nurse said. “Stay calm.” Stay calm? I wanted to shout the worse swear word not in the dictionary. If only. I. Could. Breathe.

One nurse approached me with a long tube. “I’m going to insert this through your nose to clear your windpipe. Try to relax.”

My eyes must have bulged, but after the tube was inserted, the mucous thinned, and I could finally breathe. The air filled my lungs and tears dripped down my face.

Never in my life had fear strangled and gripped my life so closely. The realization that I could no longer rely on myself for anything slammed into my chest. And even though I could finally breathe, the air in my lungs thinned. I was more alone than I’d ever been.


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About the authors:

Kelly is a true heroine, finding God as she battles with a life as a quadriplegic. Overcoming obstacles every day, she's a speaker, teacher, and Skittles lover. Michelle, Kelly's aunt, is an award-winning and bestselling author who penned Kelly's memoir to bring others hope. She writes stories that move her, and this one is close to her heart.

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Michelle Weidenbenner is a fulltime employee of God’s kingdom, writing and encouraging writers every day. She’s often a sucker for emotional stories, her sensitive side fueling the passion for her character’s plights, often giving her the ability to show readers the “other” side of the story.

She grew up in the burbs of Detroit with five brothers. No sisters. Each time her mom brought the boy bundle home from the hospital Michelle cried, certain her mom liked boys better than girls. But when her brothers pitched in with the cooking, cleaning, and babysitting—without drama, Michelle discovered having brothers wasn’t so bad. They even taught her how to take direct criticism without flinching, which comes in handy with book reviews.

Michelle is living her dream—writing every day and thanking God for the stories He puts in her path. When Michelle isn’t writing she’s winning ugly on the tennis court. She’s known as “Queen of the Rim Shots.” No joke. It’s ugly.

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1 comment:

Julie Baswell said...

Sounds like an amazing story.