I just finished another vigorous workout and can feel the effects on my body.
The sweat beads on my forehead and my muscles ache as I rest. It is satisfying to reach my goal.
What’s different about this workout, however, is that it has nothing to do with the gym or with weight loss. So much of the past three months have found me focused on making my body healthy and being a dedicated contestant in the Biggest Loser competition at The Forum ó yet today and every day since Dec. 26 have found me channeling that same determination toward healing my literally broken body.
Let me explain.
The morning of Dec. 26, I was involved in a serious auto accident while on my way to work at Chick-Fil-A. Trapped in the car for just under an hour, most of which I don’t remember, I quickly found myself embroiled in a nightmare. There is a sharp moment in my mind at which my memory dissolves into a blur of concerned faces, confusing noises, and constant, blinding pain. Those are the sights and sounds that haunt my sleep even now, beginning at the moment of impact and lasting until the time they pulled me out of the car, whisking me to the emergency room. In between, there is a space of time maddeningly barren of coherent thought.
What isn’t empty is the list of injuries my body sustained. I have lacerations on my spleen and liver, fractures in my ribs and pelvic bones, bruising on my lungs ó for that matter, bruising all over my body, including my very first black eye! I broke three of my front teeth and bit through my tongue, making eating a painful experience.
Additionally, I received a laceration more than six inches long on my upper left arm requiring multiple stitches, as well as many smaller glass cuts here, there and everywhere. Put plainly, my skin is a disgusting mess and my body literally feels as though I’ve been hit by a truck!
You may be asking yourself what all of this has to do with the Biggest Loser contest. Well, it turns out there is no workout more vigorous than the act of getting out of bed with a fractured pelvis. During my surprisingly short stay in the hospital, I impressed the staff with my stubborn resolution to accomplish whatever was necessary for my healing. Maybe they should have spoken with my trainer, Matt Marsh, who could’ve told them that I don’t believe in quitting, that mediocre is not an acceptable substitute for excellence, and that simply because something is difficult does not mean it is impossible.
All of these traits I showed in my daily workout times are now integral in the simplest aspects of my life.
Every day of my recovery, I must choose to deny the physical pain and emotional frustration I am feeling, to overcome my circumstances with a positive attitude and firm diligence. I must choose to focus on how well prepared my body was, with the strongest muscles I’ve ever had helping me accomplish my goals, and organs that have been conditioned to work effectively in the face of trauma.
And I must choose to stay grateful.
Yes, there is a sadness and a grieving that I cannot deny and I do not pretend that any of this has been easy.
But the truth is, I have never felt more loved in all of my life than since the day this accident happened.
Seeing my crushed car showed me, without any doubt, that God was (and is) with me every step of the way and that the Biggest Loser contest wasn’t just about me being healthy for the rest of my life.
I trust that God prepared me for the challenge I am now facing and I am so excited to share the details with each and every person I meet.
Biting through my tongue hasn’t stopped me from praising my Savior and thanking Him for this gift I call my life.
So many people will forever be engraved on my heart with the ink of gratitude. My family, who have lovingly and tenaciously been by my side night and day; my church family and friends, who won’t let me be too prideful and refuse whatever they have to share with me.
Police officers, EMTs, firemen, and countless nurses and doctors who cared enough to smile and look me in the eye and reassure me that no, indeed, I wouldn’t be dying.
They took my fears seriously and then set them aside as they worked diligently to save my life and give me professional service.
There has been a steady stream of visitors and emails and phone calls, all from people who genuinely love me and truly are praying for my healing and recovery.
For every single one of these people ó and you know who you are ó I am forever grateful to be witness to the love of Christ in action.
And I am forever grateful to be a real live, walking, talking miracle.
Dwayne Creel Jr. A son, Dwayne Allen, was born to Dwayne Allen Creel Sr. and Tricia Denton Creel of Salisbury... read more