A Haunting Tale of Challenge: Where Determination Meets Adversity

Halloween Then and Now; A World of Difference

A quick recap: only a year had passed since my parents and my sister, Sabrina, had visited me at college for Halloween, dressed as if they’d just stepped out of Revenge of the Nerds. I had laughed at their dedication, soaking in the fun despite the pain I was experiencing—pain I had yet to understand. At the time, I had no idea that cancer was quietly taking root inside me. Fast forward just one year, and everything had changed. Over the summer, I had been diagnosed with cancer and endured the fight of my life to save it.

Back in the Driver’s Seat

Empowered by Dr. Sterling’s approval to drive again and return to work part-time, I eagerly reached out to my childhood friend, Casey, confirming that I would join her for the Mall Crawl on Halloween. The plan was simple: I’d drive up—about 45 minutes—to meet her after her daytime plans and commitments, then stay overnight in her dorm with her roommates. Once there, I’d get to know her friends, and together, we’d prepare and costume up for our night out.

Finding My Rhythm: Navigating the Road and the Brace

In the weeks leading up to Halloween, I had been gradually reacquainting myself with driving—adjusting to my new mirror, learning how to navigate the road while wearing the restrictive brace, and sharpening my awareness of everything around me. It took focus, but by the time Halloween arrived, I felt ready. For the night’s festivities, I chose the same costume I’d worn the year before—warm, familiar, and effortlessly comfortable.

Halloween finally arrived, and I packed everything I needed—including my costume. My mom and I went over the plan one last time. I was to call when I arrived at Casey’s dorm. It was 1987, a time when cell phones existed but were a luxury only the wealthy could afford. My only lifeline to my parents or Casey was a telephone wired to the walls, meaning I had to reach my destination before I could check in.

Trapped in Motion: A Halloween Horror

Casey had plans during the day, so we set our meeting for that evening. I didn’t expect heavy traffic—most people would be home, handing out candy or trick-or-treating in their own neighborhoods. And at first, the drive was uneventful. The first few highways had reasonable traffic flow, and I found my rhythm behind the wheel. But everything changed when I merged onto the highway leading to the Mall Crawl.

Bumper to bumper, but still moving at a steady clip. No stop-and-go congestion—just constant motion. I settled into the center lane, avoiding the chaos of the fast lane and the unpredictability of vehicles merging on and off in the right lane. The wind had picked up, rushing over the highway like an invisible force.

Then, in an instant, disaster struck.

My hood flew up and slammed against my windshield. Completely blocking my view.

I was blind behind the wheel.

Panic surged through me, but I knew I couldn’t freeze. I couldn’t just slam on the brakes—not with cars packed around me, all traveling at speed. I didn’t want to hit anyone ahead of me, but I also couldn’t continue forward without seeing. My only option was to move—deliberately, carefully, without tipping into panic.

Thank goodness for the strip of mirrors. They were my only sightline, my saving grace in this moment of chaos.

I flicked on my hazard lights, praying that drivers around me would take notice. I had to slow down, but not so much that I became a collision risk. At the same time, I needed to inch right, navigating my way through lanes without seeing the road ahead. It was a delicate balance—too fast, I’d hit someone; too slow, I’d disrupt the flow and become a danger myself.

My heart pounded as I maneuvered through the highway, trusting the mirrors and sheer instinct. Somehow—through adrenaline, desperation, and perhaps a few unseen angels guiding me—I made it. First into the right lane, then onto the shoulder. Safe, but shaken.

The Accidental and Unconscious Raising of My Survivor Flag

I had survived. That was all that mattered in the moment. I didn’t yet see the pattern forming, the way survival would thread itself through my life again and again. But looking back, I’d realize—this wasn’t just one fight. It was the beginning of something deeper.

Improvising My Way Forward: Problem-Solving Under Pressure

Now, I had a new problem. The hood hinges had bent backward, making it impossible to simply close it. This wasn’t a quick fix—I had to wrestle it into submission.

Somehow, I pried the hood from my windshield, forcing it down close to its normal position. But once it was nearly there, a new realization hit—there was no way it was going to latch shut. I had to get resourceful, fast.

Looking back, I still wonder how I managed it given my physical condition. Moments like this make me pause and ask: How on Earth did I do that?

The only answer I have is that I stayed present. I didn’t let my mind spiral into everything that could go wrong—I didn’t have the time or space for that. Instead, I trusted the quiet instinct guiding me, the inner knowing of what had to come next. And when that next step revealed itself, I took it. No hesitation, no second-guessing.

Survival wasn’t about having all the answers—it was about meeting each challenge as it came, focusing my energy where it mattered most, and refusing to let fear take the wheel.

I popped my trunk and scanned for anything I could use to secure the hood. I don’t remember exactly what I found—only that it worked. Whatever it was, I tied the hood down to the front of the car, making sure it was as secure as I could manage.

Survival Wasn’t Just Luck—It Was Adaptation and Resolve

With that handled, I climbed back into the driver’s seat and took a moment to steady myself. A few deep breaths, some quick meditation. The adrenaline was still surging, but I needed a clear head for what came next.

I was much closer to Casey’s dorm than to home, turning back wasn’t an option. It was 1987—no GPS, no instant digital solutions like today. Just paper maps and whatever directions were scribbled onto napkins or paper to guide me. With no way to find the nearest pay phone my only option was to continue driving.

I made the call to continue forward.

This time, I stuck to the right lane, keeping a cautious speed beneath the flow of traffic, hazard lights flashing. Mile by mile, I pressed on. And eventually, I made it. I had given myself plenty of time for the trip, so despite everything, I wasn’t too late.

I had survived—again.

A Harrowing Journey, A Night to Embrace

When I found Casey, I wasted no time recounting my harrowing drive—the chaos, the panic, the sheer disbelief that I had made it. She listened, wide-eyed, as I let the story spill out. Then, using her dorm phone, I called my mom.

I walked her through every nerve-wracking detail, reassuring her that despite everything, I was safe. We talked through the situation, weighing options, but in the end, the decision was simple: I had made it, and for tonight, there was nothing more to do. We would discuss it again tomorrow.

For now, I was here, with Casey and her friends, on the verge of a night we had planned and anticipated. After everything I had endured just to get to this moment, I wasn’t about to let fear dictate my night.

It was time to let go—at least for a little while—and enjoy Halloween.

My Haunting Reality Illuminated

Costumes on, excitement buzzing in the air—it was time to step into the night, to embrace the energy of Halloween and the unknown connections waiting ahead. But I had no idea the confrontation I was about to face.

Stepping into the crowd, I was met with an unsettling reality: I wasn’t like them. While they deepened friendships, laughed freely, and effortlessly moved through the night, I was set apart. Their lives were carefree, their bodies intact, untouched by the kind of battle I had fought. I felt like an outsider in every sense—physically marked by my brace, emotionally distanced by the weight of everything I had endured.

I stood out. And not in a way I wanted to.

I couldn’t shake the thought that if they had to look at me, if they truly saw me, maybe they’d fear that tragedy could touch them too. Like my presence was some warning of life’s fragility—something they weren’t ready to consider.

Among The Group, But Walking Alone

I had learned to fight for myself in the medical world, to advocate fiercely when it mattered most. But here, among my peers, I struggled to find that same voice. I felt like an observer, disconnected, searching for a way in but unable to find it. We simply didn’t have much common ground to stand on. But the truth was, this wasn’t just about the brace, or the circumstances of that night—it was something deeper, something fundamental.

Even if I hadn’t stood out physically, I still wouldn’t have fit in effortlessly. The casual ease with which people bonded—over current events, fashion, sports, small talk—it was foreign to me. Those surface-level exchanges that flowed so naturally for others always felt hollow to me. Life wasn’t just about convenience and conversation—it was about meaning, depth, the moments that left a mark. And yet, here I was, in a world where people found connection in the very things I struggled to grasp.

This wasn’t just an isolated feeling—it was a pattern, one I wouldn’t fully recognize until much later. The quiet divide between me and the world around me wasn’t something that had appeared here; it had always been there. I just hadn’t recognized it yet.

Moving Through the World on a Different Path

I was glad I had gone—grateful for the chance to reconnect with my old friend, to meet her new friends, to step into a night of independence. There was so much to appreciate, so many victories to hold onto.

Yet, even in the joy, a quiet question lingered beneath it all. Where did I truly fit in?

And so, the search began.

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Reflections on Survival and Our Desire to Fit In—Your Voice Is Welcome Here

Survival isn’t just luck—it’s adaptation, resolve, and the choice to rise. In a world that often encourages division, where it’s easy to feel defined by struggle, there’s hope for something greater waiting beyond.

This journey has been full of unexpected realizations, resilience, and self-discovery. We all face moments where we have to dig deep, where the path forward isn’t handed to us but forged through determination. Maybe you’ve felt set apart, isolated, or unsure where you belong. But survival is more than enduring—it’s about pushing past limitations and refusing to settle for anything less than growth.

This isn’t just about making it through; it’s about rewriting the narrative. Moving beyond obstacles instead of letting them define us. So, if you’ve ever felt caught between hardship and hope, if you’ve ever wondered what comes next—know that you have the power to raise beyond your current circumstances. To claim strength, to embrace resilience, and to step into something greater.

What does being a survivor mean to you? What helps you keep moving forward? How do you shift your perspective and open your mind to the possibilities? Let’s start a conversation—because together, we rise.