Getting Hit by a Train Isn’T All Bad!

By Gary Kusa

My life had been in a downward spiral for quite some time, even before my encounter with that train. How ironic is it that while that while somewhere along the line I got off track, a train accident helped me to get back on track! Obviously, I would like everyone who reads this to be entertained, but the message of hope, faith, and perseverance was my main motivation in writing this book. There are so many people today that seem to have given up on their hopes and dreams for any number of reasons. Whether hope was lost due to poor choices (like me), handi-cap (like me), or any other reason (probably like me) you need to get over it, and not let past losses keep you from future gains!

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496907936

Gary Kusa

I am a 59 year old retired due to disability teacher from the Midwest, but currently residing in the Southwest. Despite having to use a walker as a result of an accident, I’ve been to all 50 states, exercise daily, continue to grow in faith, and hope that by using myself as an example that people from all walks of life will see that ALL things are possible with God (the Supreme Being of one’s chosen faith).

Book preview

Chapter One

In the Beginning

THE MAIN REASONS FOR WRITING this book are to inspire, to help the hopeless regain lost hope, to entertain, and to let people everywhere know that there can be good things to come out of bad experiences (even disabilities). Financial gain was not a big factor in sharing my story. If it were, I certainly would not have waited until my fifties to write this book. The thought of writing my memoirs has been about twenty-five years in the making. I could never get much on paper until a few years ago. However, through prayer God let me know that the time has come to share my autobiography with the world.

I suppose a huge obstacle in writing the story of my life was guilt. I have done some things that were not very God-like and did not wish to share my dirty laundry with the world. However, I now realize that my past is just that, PAST, and just because a person has made some poor choices in their life does not mean that they cannot have a successful future (unless, of course, one is running for a political office… which I am NOT!).

Some of the things that I am not proud of from my past are that I have been through multiple marriages, smoked marijuana (Yes, I inhaled!), and have broken a few of the ten commandments. I write about these topics as a way of letting people in all walks of life know that no matter what skeletons one may have in his or her closet, if you ask God for forgiveness and guidance, you can still accomplish great things, even though you may have to endure hardships to get there.

I have been married a total of four times in my life. Later, I will offer a few possible explanations as to why this occurred. I am not even going to attempt to justify my actions. Rather, I hope to offer some insight into my temporary insanity.

Before I go any further, I want readers to know that this is not just another religious book. Yes, it is true that I owe the turnaround in my life to Jesus, but I do not want others to think that I am just wishing to give my testimony to other believers. To me, that would be like preaching to the choir. Rather, my hope is to inspire others, regardless of their spiritual beliefs or the past you may have led, to never give up hope, and to believe that all things are possible when you ask the Lord for help, guidance, and forgiveness. I was a teacher for almost twenty years, and have dedicated my life to helping others. I firmly believe that anyone can do anything if they want it bad enough, and shared this feeling with my students on a daily basis.

Most autobiographies are written in chronological order, from birth to present. As you will hopefully see the further and further into the reading you get, I am not so typical, thus I will get right to the good stuff, and only refer to the less interesting, fairly insignificant events in my life when it is necessary to understand the big picture. I don’t mean to downplay any portion of my life. It is just that certain periods of my life are not pertinent to the message that I am trying to convey.

I grew up with two loving, caring parents who gave me the morals and ethics that guide me today. Neither of my parents was a college graduate, but that had nothing to do with their intelligence, and everything to do with being products of their environment. They were both born into middle class Midwestern families during the depression era. There was barely enough money to pay the bills each month, yet alone for college tuition. Nevertheless, my parents stressed the importance of education to me as long ago as I can remember.

My father was a history buff, and took us on vacations to many different destinations in the United States. The fact that I have now been to all fifty states can be in large part attributed to my father’s thirst for knowledge which he passed on to me. I think the most important principle that my parents instilled in me was that I could do most anything I wanted to if I desired it bad enough, and worked hard towards that goal. A favorite saying around my house growing up was, Work hard, but play hard too.

Two months after my high school graduation I was involved in a freak accident which turned out to be the first turning point in my life. Being and acting like a typical eighteen year old kid, I spent a lot of my spare time drinking. I grew up in Illinois where the law said that a person had to be twenty-one years of age to consume alcohol. However, just an hour and a half to the north of where I lived, in Wisconsin, their law was for eighteen year old drinking. Being young and naïve (and wanting to play), it seemed to me that the solution was a road trip.

One characteristic of being a teenager seems to be to live in the here and now: the need for immediate gratification. Never did I consider the question of how I would get home after spending a night on the town getting loaded.

On a Saturday evening in August, shortly after my eighteenth birthday, my friend, Harry, and I took the ride over the state line for a night of getting drunk and listening to loud music. Unfortunately, I don’t remember too many details of that particular adventure for a couple of reasons. First, I was as a drunk as a skunk. Second, it took place over 35 YEARS AGO! Fortunately though, none of it matters to the story since it is what took place after leaving the nightclub that has relevance.

Although both Harry and I drank, he could obviously hold his liquor better than me, and offered to drive us home. I think that since I could hardly stand up had a lot to do with Harry’s generous offer, as well as my acceptance.

As soon as we got into the car to set out on our journey home, I passed out in the passenger seat. We were going down the interstate at seventy miles per hour when all of a sudden the car in front of us lost its’ muffler in the middle of the road. Harry swerved the car to avoid hitting the muffler. When he swerved, my arm which had been resting on the door of the car began to slide down. After he passed the muffler he again swerved to get back into our lane. That second swerve caused my arm to slide all the way down the door until it reached the handle, and the door began to open. Once back into our lane, Harry then straightened the wheel out, and that last sudden jerk of the vehicle was enough to cause me to be thrown from the car.

I didn’t just fall out of the car and hit the ground… end of story! That would have been too easy. Because we were going so fast, when I hit the ground I bounced and rolled almost twenty yards. Luckily, it was late and not many cars were on the road. When I came to a stop, I got to my hands and knees, and remembered seeing a car’s hubcaps going around and around me in circles. Harry had seen me eject from the vehicle, and was circling so that nobody could hit me.

After I realized what had happened, my first thought was, How embarrassing!, so I decided to get back in the car and take off. I yelled for Harry to stop, and was going to get back in the car. There was a problem though: I couldn’t walk. The accident had sobered me up, but I wasn’t able to think straight yet (kind of like when you first wake up, and before your first cup of coffee). Thinking this was temporary, I crawled to the car, (luckily the door was already opened), managed to get in and said to Harry, Let’s get out of here!

By the time we had arrived home, Harry had filled me in on all of the details of my adventure. It was late, and since my parents were already in bed, I said to Harry that he should take my car home, and I’d pick it up in the morning. When we pulled into my driveway, I said good night to Harry, and was planning to go to bed. Another obstacle: I still was unable to walk. I convinced Harry that I just needed to sleep it off, and would be fine in the morning, so he then carried me to bed.

When I woke to the smell of bacon, I figured I’d eat breakfast, and then have my mom take me to go get my car. ROADBLOCK: I still was unable to walk, and now I was getting mildly concerned. I called out to my mother for help. She came into my room, and convinced me that she needed to get an ambulance to take me to the hospital.

I was immediately admitted and told that they would be giving me a series of tests. A few days into my hospital stay, I was told by one doctor that I may not be able to walk anymore. He even told me that I may need to prepare for life in a wheelchair. My youthful exuberance, hard-headed nature, and desire to prove him wrong could not accept his diagnosis.

One of the many tests that I was given while I was in the hospital was a spinal tap. I was told that this can be the most painful thing a man can experience… . comparable to a woman giving birth. I was warned by the administering physician NOT to try to get up for anything for at least twelve hours after the procedure. The test itself wasn’t too bad, and when I was wheeled back to my room, and left alone I needed to go to the bathroom.

Once again, I didn’t heed the advice of my elders (Do you see a pattern here?) and got up. I felt fine and even was able to stand then walk to the restroom (rather than stay in bed and use a bedpan) while holding on to the walls of my room. Once I got back into bed, almost immediately I understood why I was told not to get up.

The pain in my spine was excruciating and swift. I can remember praying to God (which back then was a rare occurrence for me), and was bargaining for relief. I asked God to either take me or make the pain go away, even if it meant being confined to a wheelchair. My prayers were answered because just as quickly as the pain began it started to subside. I was even able to walk again even though I looked like I was drunk while doing so (Do you see the irony in that?). A few days later I was released from the hospital, and walked out on my own power. (Actually, hospital policy mandates that every patient be wheeled out in a wheelchair, but it makes for better reading to say that I walked out!). That spinal tap incident gave me a new respect for what a woman goes through during childbirth (Women, how do you do it… . especially more than once?).

Chapter Two

Twist My Arm!

WHEN ALL TESTING WAS COMPLETE and the results were in, the official diagnosis was a spinal degenerative disease. It is so rare that since only one in four million people had that same condition there wasn’t any money for research in that area. Therefore, doctors couldn’t tell me with any degree of certainty if the accident caused this to happen or if I had this problem lying dormant in my body already and the accident triggered it off.

As a matter of fact, an intern gave me some advice that seemed as reasonable as what the doctors were able to give me. He told me that my muscles would contract whenever I got cold. As I got older I may want to consider moving to a warmer climate. In the meantime though I may want to get regular massages in order