An inspiring story

Chris,

I was deeply sadden to hear about your accident. I am glad to see all of the support you and Anna have among friends and family.

I remember coming across a story of a professional football player who injured his neck and was paralyze from the waist down. I have posted the article below describing his recovery to walk again and later his return to a successful football career.

Those who has visited Chris already, thank you for the updates.

My hearts, thoughts and prayers are with you Chris.

Ben



Three years after doctors told him he'd never walk again, the Destroyers' JoJo Polk is a rising star in the Arena Football League.

By RODNEY MCKISSIC
News Sports Reporter
3/10/2003

As JoJo Polk describes how he slammed headfirst into a wall during an Arena football game in South Carolina nearly three years ago, he keeps pausing, trying to articulate what transpired.
"It was a blur and then my vision started coming back to me," said Polk, 24. "When it came back, there was a bunch of people standing around me. It takes awhile for your hearing to come back, too."

Polk, who was playing for the Tulsa Talons of arenafootball2, at first couldn't hear the trainer ask him to move his arms and legs. Seconds later, he couldn't hear the trainer demand that he move his arms and legs. He didn't know his neck was broken or that his promising career in the Arena league had begun to slip away. All Polk knew was that he had broken up a pass - that's what he got paid to do - and that a win on that day would put the Talons in the af2 playoffs. Then his hearing returned.

"JoJo," the trainer said, "move your hands, please, move your legs."

"I am," Polk finally said. "What's wrong?"

Three days later, doctors informed Polk he would never walk again. Three years later, however, Polk is a defensive specialist for the Buffalo Destroyers and among the Arena Football League's brightest young stars.

Polk has a team-high 28.5 tackles, six pass breakups and two interceptions for the Destroyers, who are x-x after their win/loss Saturday night at Tampa Bay.

Medically, the odds were not on Polk's side that he would ever play football, or walk, again. Roughly 200,000 Americans are living with spinal cord injuries, most caused by automobile accidents, gunshot wounds, falls or recreational sporting activities, according to the National Spinal Cord Injury Statistical Center at the University of Alabama-Birmingham. Of those who retain some sensation, only about 28 percent walk again, most supported by a cane, crutches or braces. Then there are patients whose recoveries defy statistical logic.

"Football is all he's ever dreamed of doing," said Cyrese Powell, Polk's mother, who lives in New Orleans. "The fact that he was injured doing the one thing that he loved most was almost ironic, but he's strong willed, very strong willed. The doctors said that's what pulled him through, his determination, his own determination, no matter what others were telling him - and most of it was negative. He had his own goals."


Worst fear confirmed

Polk has a body full of football energy, with the ability to run 40 yards in 4.3 seconds. At age 2, Polk told his mother he wanted to be a football player, and she later taught him how to catch passes and throw a tight spiral.

In 1999, Polk was a first-team All-Lone Star Conference defensive back in his senior season at Division II Northeastern State in Oklahoma.

But in July 2000, in one fear-provoking play, Polk cracked his C-6 vertebrate and was left without the use of his hands and legs.

Polk was baiting the quarterback before breaking up the pass but tripped over the intended receiver and slammed headfirst into the board. The trainers told him to be still, but Polk turned his head slightly and saw paramedics running toward him with a spinal board.

"I knew they were taking me to the hospital," Polk said.

He was taken to Trident Medical Center in Charleston, S.C., where a doctor told him what he already feared.

"I better tell you now," the doctor said. "You're paralyzed from the waist down."

Polk could bend his elbows but could barely move his fingers or flex his wrists. He had no motor function in his legs. The preliminary hope was he would recover enough use of his hand to operate a motorized wheelchair, to feed himself, shave and brush his teeth. But after being told his walking days were over he started making plans to compete in the Special Olympics.

"I cried like a baby," Polk said. "Then I thought about it and I said, "It might be God's will.' I tried to make the best out of it. I tried to make the nurses laugh and make my mom laugh. I knew I had everyone on my side. I've always been the vocal one, so why change now?"

Polk was trying to remain strong for his mother. Powell was trying to do the same for her son.

"It was the fear of the unknown," said Powell, who flew to South Carolina immediately following the accident. "There was no sleeping. To walk into a room and see your child lying still, a perfectly healthy human specimen . . . he couldn't move anything except his head at the time. I was emotional and I tried not to show it all to him."

Powell was taught by her mother that prayer works miracles. Two weeks later, her prayers were answered.


Rapid recovery

Each day after the accident, Polk sat in his bed trying to move his legs. Then, one day, while watching television, he felt a twitch. Polk pressed the call button for the nurses until they arrived. Later, the doctor examining him dismissed it as normal.

"Naw man," Polk said. "I felt this."

Polk began to make an astonishing recovery. Soon he walked with the aid of crutches. Two crutches soon became one. Doctors debated whether to perform surgery but decided on rehabilitation instead. Polk was placed in a device called a halo, a bulky metal brace that was screwed into his forehead and stabilized his neck in order to allow it to heal. He eventually was transferred to Tulane Medical Center in New Orleans.

He was supposed to be in the halo for three to six months, but Polk was healing at such a rapid rate that he remained in the device for only a month and was ready for rehab.

It helped that Polk was young, in remarkable physical condition and committed to playing football again. Polk lost his ability to feel and had to learn how to hold a spoon and fork. He had to perform tasks such as picking up grains of rice and placing them in a cup just to strengthen his fingers.

Before the accident, picking up 25-pound dumbbells was as easy as lifting a paper cup, but Polk couldn't pick up even a 5-pound dumbbell. Still, there was no time for self-pity.

"I worked hard," he said. "I started getting stronger, much stronger than anyone ever anticipated."


Running start

His legs got strong enough that four months after the accident he was walking under his own power. His rehab was improving and he was moved to the Tulane Sports Medical Center, but when he felt the doctors were hindering his progress, Polk decided to work out on his own.

"All of the sudden I was running," he said. "I was doing everything I needed to do."

In November 2000, almost a month after he took his first steps, Polk began playing in a flag football league to see if he could run and cover.

"That's when I knew I could play again," Polk said. "Once I started getting better, I knew I wanted to play ball. I had gotten things in the mail from the XFL, but, of course, I was injured so I couldn't go. I just wanted to play."

Powell wasn't so sure and expressed her concerns in a conversation laden with tears.

"I had to support his decision," Powell said. "I couldn't belittle him."

While contemplating his next move, Polk received a phone call from Marshall Foreman, the defensive coordinator for the Grand Rapids Rampage. He had a new employment opportunity in mind for Polk.

"You ready?" Foreman asked.

"Ready for what?" Polk shot back.

"You ready?"

"Who is this?"

"This is Coach Foreman. I'm ready to bring you into camp. Don't . . . come . . . if . . . you . . . ain't . . . ready. I told them you were the real deal."

"I'm ready."


Out of mind

In 2001, Polk played without pain and was running around and running his mouth again. Once during practice he broke up a pass, ran into the receiver and they both crashed into the wall. Everyone was frozen in silence as they waited for Polk to get up.

"The whole practice got quiet," he said. "I hopped up and ran back into the huddle, but everyone was staring at me. I looked around and (Grand Rapids coach Mike Trigg) said, "Don't ever do that again.' I think I earned some respect because they saw that I was going to give 100 percent no matter what."

The memory of the accident is blurry, and that's the way Polk and Powell like it. Polk likes to point to the holes in his forehead where the halo rested, but the marks are barely visible. And he never thinks about getting injured again.

"You can say my story is like a storybook," Polk said. "I was able to come back.

e-mail: rmckissic@buffnews.com

http://www.buffalonews.com/editorial...10/1043799.asp