Saturday, May 23, 2020

11 years: this one goes out to...

It's May 23 again, the day of my accident, a day that will always cause me to slow down and think. It's been eleven years since that pivotal day.

I could not have predicted how my life would change. Nor could I have predicted the amazing people I have had the pleasure of meeting.

On this important day in my life, I want to talk about one person in particular. Someone who fills my color-blind eyes with love and vibrant hues that I did not fathom was possible.

That person is Zainab Alwan, who I am proud to call my wife.

As many of you know, medical school was tough. I perhaps too eagerly started just a year after my accident and was not prepared. I surprisingly met Zainab during this troublesome time.

If I were to describe all the ways my life has changed over the past eleven years, I would write forever. I didn't choose the wheelchair life; I was put into this position without asking for it. I have heard people say that people like me with disabilities are inspirational or are heroes, but we are just ordinary people dealing with the circumstances in life that we have been given. We never asked for this and most of us would not wish this upon anyone.

What is astonishing, though, is how Zainab sacrificed so many things in her life and willingly decided to be by my side despite all the changes in her life that she has made and would have to continue to make.

Now that is commendable.

That is what makes a hero.

Because of my medical training, she has moved with me to three different states, putting her own career as an accomplished lawyer on the backburner.

As a formerly extremely active person who still loves the outdoors, I had to accept the fact that I could never play certain sports, go to certain parks or travel to certain places, or experience many of the things that I before took for granted. Things as simple as feeling the sand between by toes or running into oncoming waves on a beach are things that I can watch others do and if I close my eyes, I can picture myself doing, but that will never again be possible for me. Zainab, who is healthy and able-bodied and also loves those things, knowingly sacrificed doing them because she knows I would not be able to join her.

Over the past eleven years, one main thing that kept me focused was my goal of being the best physician that I could be. When I have any issues, she is the person I go to and she always gives me helpful feedback and advice to help me further excel.

When we go out (or rather when we used to go out before the pandemic), she does not only have to think about and manage herself, but also our son, Laith, and me. It's not uncommon for her to be on busy streets unloading Laith, Laith's stroller and bag, and then my wheelchair while making sure we are all safe. Flying is a whole ordeal in itself.

She is always speaking up for the rights of those with disabilities, even if I am shy and insist that things are not an issue for me. She wants things to be equal and all right for everyone.

Not only is she the most amazing person to me, she is the best and most selfless mother I have seen. From before our son, Laith, was born, she has been planning what to do so he can have the best, healthiest life possible. She survived a traumatic childbirth in which I nearly lost her, and I froze up, unknowingly reliving other traumatic events in my life and not knowing how to handle things. A few hours later, despite dangerously low hemoglobin levels and excruciating pain, she was somehow up and doing things on her own again, thinking only about her son and about me. That's Zainab.

Laith is now almost seventeen months old and I still am physically unable to pick him up out of his crib or lie him down, I cannot put him in his highchair to feed him, I cannot put him in and take him out of the bath tub to bathe him. I've seen her get by with little to no sleep for months while she took care of Laith on her own.  She does all these things and so, so much more.

I of course know what it is like to be unwillingly thrust into a life that is completely different than anything one could imagine or prepare for, but I cannot imagine what it is like to see that life and knowingly choose to become a part of it, accepting all the difficulties with patience and a smile.

For that, I will be always be grateful for Zainab Alwan, the best human I know.

Love conquers all.