Wills 's Story

Well my story..... I came back to Australia for my mates wedding, just having motorcycled around the states, worked and lived an amazing life in London, offered three jobs around eastern and southern Africa, travelled through Central America during civil war and lived some amazing experiences there. On a high with experiences, with the passion of life that was just out of site. I walked around with the biggest smile and loved life sooo much.

Then one day I woke up...... 40 kilos lighter, pain, excruciating pain in my right leg and all through me, tubes everywhere, coming out all over my body. I tried to talk but I had a tube coming out of my throat so I couldn't. I had no idea what had happened I just woke up like this. It was when I could talk that I found out what had happened. I had a head on (car accident) with a 4wd on a country road outside the gold coast in Qld. I was going 38kms an hour up a hill in a van; they were doing 100kms.

I sustained a smashed pelvis, dislocated knee, lacerated liver, fractured spine and head injuries (the vans cargo, a diesel engine smashed through driver's cabin crushing Will). I went through two hundred units of blood products in the first twenty four hours and was in a coma for five weeks. My leg was so badly crushed I got gangrene so the doctors had to cut my leg off to the hip. They did it through 4 operations; I was told the blood was dripping off the bed when they were taking me to theatre leaving a trail on the floor between each of the operation. They tried to keep a stump but the injuries were so bad they couldn't.

I developed a severe haematoma on the back of the head (a bloody big bruise) and was expected to be a vegetable. The doctors advised my friends to turn the life support off, but the nurses recognised a spark or could see I had a bloody thick noggin for a head and told them to keep me on. Five weeks later I woke up.

The pain coming from my right leg was phantom pain. Imagine getting your toes and crushing them in a vice then getting a red hot knife and stabbing your thigh every five minutes. So again I didn't know I lost my leg until I could talk, because of the pain and because I couldn't move from the muscle wastage. Then I found out through a joke; as procedure the nursing staff put your hands and feet (or in my case foot) in contraction with splints and special boots while your in a coma. I saw she was only putting one on me (I had just started to talk. I had the tracky removed from my throat and had to reprogram my mouth to form words. I had a speech therapist to help me talk again she was hot so it didn't take too long). So I asked why she was only putting one on, what about the other leg. The Nurse looked at me and laughed and said you only have one leg. She thought I was joking she then said "don't you know you only have one leg?"

Then thought my willy! I asked straight away if I could still use my willy and she didn't know!!! So I asked if she could find out (no not what you're thinking) from the doctor if there was any injury there. So she got a doctor and I asked him if my willy was alright. He told me there wasn't any evidence to say there was anything wrong. Thank flamin goodness!

Then reality set in and I realised the fact that I had lost my leg. I was a bricklayer by trade, tree climber (lumberjack), cocktail flair bartender (like Tom Cruise in Cocktail); everything I did was with my body. I had no idea what my future was to entail.

I cried, I cried all night.

My recovery was quick. I was in and out of hospital in ten weeks including the coma. My strength come back fast as I was really fit before the accident. I just wanted my old life back. There is nothing worse than seeing and feeling this body crippled and in such pain. I had relearn to talk, relearn to use my hands, relearn to move in this new body which was now skin and bone. Anyway I got out quick and on the road to start a new life. I had a few complications along the way. I developed symptoms of leukaemia, as my body was in shock. It turned out to be just a scare but at the time it was all I needed. When I came out of hospital I had compressed nerve damage in my left arm and had to develop my hand skills again. I then developed a blockage of the kidney which needed another operation. Both of these complications were caused by lying still for such a long time in the coma.

I just wanted my old life back, just wanted to walk, run and jump on a plane and start travelling again. I never felt sorry for myself; I was just sooo flamin angry. I finally become happy with who I was and gotten over my past as a child. So out came the vendetta on anyone who saw me with a disability. The attitude of I can do anything and I can do it better than you!

When I got the all clear with my kidney and arm, the next week I went cannoning and abseiling. I joined a gym, took up rollerblading, took up skiing, competed in two skiing World Cups, climbed the Three Sisters from bottom to top, did the Inca Trail (something I had always dreamed of doing) on crutches and carried my own pack. I don't use an artificial leg because my leg was taken off so high. As well as many other things.

I was doing it all for the wrong reasons! I just needed to sit and grieve over my accident. Accept my new life, find my true passions and start living this "new" life instead I did the opposite. I kept trying to become the person I was with two legs. There was no acceptance of my new life. I just kept trying to bring that old life back. Too outsiders my life I guess looked exciting. I met many celebrities and sporting personalities even the prime minister, but that whole time I was so scared of really accepting my life. Basically I just didn't want too. I started doing motivational talks to people about just going for it, making the change and opportunity. At the time I thought I was talking truth but really I was just talking shit!!

I took up mountain bike riding, downhill and cross country. I learnt massage therapy, developed new styles and even lectured. I finally started to sit down and listen; listen to my tummy and what I truly wanted.

My bike riding is starting to take a new level. I'm getting faster, faster than a lot of two leggers and I'm not trying to prove anything, just having fun. I am really becoming contented with in this body. I used to hate it, but I'm now actually accepting it and beginning to love it.

Six years later I'm becoming happy with me. Not being angry with the life that was taken away but excited about the future in the new body I call me.