I never imagined my life hanging in the balance at just 51 years old. After decades building a successful acting career known for portraying tough action heroes who laugh in the face of danger, I considered myself blessed with a vibrantly healthy body that let me perform my own daring stunts on screen. My athleticism became trademark bravado daring ever more risky endeavors off camera too like professional snowcat driving across rugged mountain ranges near my Nevada ranch retreat. I took for granted the smooth resilience always bouncing back from adventure mishaps with little more than superficial bruises and amusing anecdotes to share over drinks later recounting daring escapades cheating the odds yet again. But in a heartbeat on one frigid winter morning, that illusion of immunity from harm would be shattered beyond recognition. In the isolated quiet of my snow covered ranch, a horrifying accident triggered by a momentary lapse of attention would bring my entire world crashing down. In seconds, the powerful machinery I rode flipped violently, rocketing me onto hard packed rocky terrain with enough traumatic impact that death lingered a high probability, and permanent paralysis a near certainty if even possible to stabilize my demolished anatomy enough to survive initial emergency surgery, let alone endure the arduous rehabilitation required attempting meaningful recovery. What transpired in the harrowing hours and days thereafter as I clung to life by the most fragile threads would forever transform not just my broken body and athletic prowess I took for granted, but fundamentally shift my identity and priorities moving forward after glimpsing my mortality in such graphic terminal terms. The grueling gauntlet of close to 30 major emergency surgeries and endless complications in the first year alone brought hurdles of almost insurmountable physical and emotional trauma to overcome. Only recently have I emerged on the other side of intensive rehabilitation stable enough to begin sharing my story of both the devastating injuries that nearly killed me as well as immense gratitude for the heroic medical teams whose quick response and tireless trauma interventions enabled my second chance despite initially minimal odds surviving such overwhelming systemic damage, let alone eventually walk again after weeks of ICU delirium unsure if permanent paralysis or worse had already overtaken body and mind too broken to recover former faculties against such irrevocable obliteration from milliseconds violence inflicted. While still relying on mobility aids that serve as ever present reminders of the catastrophic toll paid relearning simplest tasks requiring fluid athleticism before, and likely facing chronic pain and increased disability long term from significant permanent tissue damage and surgical reinforcements holding together demolished anatomy, I feel only humility and resilience having endured the depths of trauma few fully return from. By awe for our human capacity adapting even when so much is lost, and by grace of compassionate healers serving selflessly on frontlines willing fight back from the abyss others would have reasonably deemed hopeless case dismissed palliative pathways instead. My impossible improbable survival story and tireless rehabilitation continuing moving forward now aims help advocate support for often overlooked heroes specialize piecing together such overwhelming odds defying profound existential wreckage with masterful expertise, care and courage holding space emergence looking into the darkness sometimes barely flickering lights signals tenacious spirits still viewing glass half full somehow...