Glenn E. Mangurian
My life as I knew it ended on May 26, 2001. With no warning, one of my spinal discs ruptured. Despite two surgeries and months of rehabilitation, I was paralyzed from the waist down and permanently confined to a wheelchair. I was 52.
Only a day earlier, I had been a happy, healthy, successful man in full charge of my life and career. The next day, I was a paraplegic in almost unbearable pain, stunned at my fate, enraged at my helplessness. I was scared to death.
If you’re still reading these words, here’s a promise: no self-pity. None. Zero. Nothing I say now or later means that I feel ...