By Lindsey Kin
Tracy Todd was an active lady who loved sport and outdoor activities, yet, her life changed irrevocably when a tragic accident left her a quadriplegic. Todd talks from the heart, and this is her story…
At school, Todd excelled in sport, especially athletics and gymnastics. After school, she went on to complete her degree in teaching, and like most students, she says she had a zest for life, and would never say “no” to a good party. “I could have been labelled as an adrenalin junkie,” says Todd. “I would grab every opportunity to go rock climbing; abseiling; para-sailing; skiing; and sky diving,” she says, adding that the day she jumped out of an aeroplane was one of the best days of her life.
Before her accident, Todd admits that she had an arrogant attitude towards life and believed that she was totally invincible and that nothing would ever happen to her. “I never really knew what life was about.”
During her student years, Todd fell in love. She got engaged; married; and thereafter came the miracle of a child, her baby boy, Chad. Todd moved back to Nelspruit and began teaching. “The busier I was, the happier I seemed to be. I ran marathons; played club hockey; went to the gym; and did show jumping,” she says. Physically, Todd was fit; firm; and healthy.
In April 1998, Todd; her husband; and 10-month-old baby went on their first family holiday to the Eastern Cape. “I remember lying on the beach watching my little boy play with the sand and in the sea water for the first time, and feeling so content that my life had always gone exactly according to plan. My life had never been touched by great emotional or physical pain, and I had never experienced the loss of a loved one,” she says. “My life had never been hit by tragedy or trauma, and I had no idea what life was really all about. However little did I know, I was about to find out,” she says.

On Easter Monday, Todd and her family were returning to Nelspruit from their holiday. They had been driving for about 12 hours. “My little boy became extremely distressed and tired of being in his car seat; he needed his nappy changed and a bottle,” says Todd. She asked her husband to stop the car, but they decided to push on until the next town.
“I couldn’t bare my baby’s heart-wrenching sobs any longer,” say Todd, so she made the decision to take off her seatbelt and climb over to the backseat to take Chad out of his car seat. Just as she was about to start changing his nappy, they were involved in a car accident. The car rolled, landing on its roof.
Todd hit her head on the roof. She says that during the accident, she “never lost consciousness” and was aware of everything going on around her. “I watched my hand fall to my lap,” says Todd. She knew immediately that she had broken her neck. Todd could hear Chad crying somewhere in the back seat of the car, but was unable to turn her head to see where he was. Miraculously, Todd’s husband; Chad; and the little dog they took with them on holiday were not injured in the accident. She, however, woke up in ICU attached to a ventilator.
“I had always had a tremendous fear of being kept alive on machines,” says Todd. Knowing this, her husband told her that the doctor had assured him that there would be a chance she would come off the ventilator.
Todd says that she remembers “the fear and heartache” she felt when the doctor gently broke the news she would be paralysed forever. “I had never been so scared in all my life. There I lay, unable to move; unable to talk because of the ventilator; and unable to breathe on my own at that stage,” she says. Fortunately for Todd, being young; fit; and healthy, she was weaned off the ventilator faster than expected and was then moved into the spinal unit for rehabilitation. This was the start of a long, hard road to recovery and re-building of a new life in a new body.
Todd explains that sometimes she thinks, “If I had my seatbelt on that day, there is probably a good chance that I would not be in this wheelchair today. I thought it would take five minutes to change his nappy, but all it took was one split second and all of our lives were turned upside down forever.”
Todd has been left paralysed from the neck down and is only able to move her head from side to side, and lift her shoulders - this is the sum total of her physical independence. She needs someone with her 24-hours-a-day to do absolutely everything for her; she says that one of the hardest things she has had to come to terms with is the utter loss of privacy and independence. “I need someone to wash me; dress me; feed me; brush my teeth; and even turn me over at night in bed,” says Todd. She finds that she gets very frustrated, and it’s the smallest things that do so. She says, “The next time your head or your nose itches, sit on your hands and see how long you last.” She guarantees it will feel as if you are being tortured. Another frustration for her is at night. “When I’m cold and I can’t pull up my duvet I have to call someone to help me; or when I am hot and I can’t kick-off my blanket, I have to ask someone to come and help me.” Todd remembers sitting in her lounge one night reading next to the lamp. “That night, there was a moth flying around the lamp, and it kept flying onto my face. I then took in a deep breath in an attempt to blow the moth away, but I accidentally sucked the moth into my mouth,” says Todd, adding, “take it from me, moths are not very appetising.”
Even though life chose Todd, by the mere fact that she survived this tragic accident, she was not ready to choose life, because her trauma and tragedy did not end there. A year after the accident, Todd and her husband got divorced and she lost custody of her son. ”I went into such a deep depression and considered suicide. There was one problem, however - my arms would not work, and no-one amongst my family or friends was willing to help me commit suicide,” says Todd. But today, as a Christian, Todd says her son can be proud to call her ‘mom’, because she can live her life with dignity, and she has learnt that “there is nothing in life that is so bad that we need to take our own life.”
Todd says that she is still a typical woman, and loves to cry. “It’s not a very pleasant experience though, because the tears run down my cheeks and tickle them; and the snot runs into my mouth and I can’t blow my nose,” she says, and admits that every now and again she has a good cry because it’s an emotional release for her, and helps with healing.
Todd has learned a lot of her coping and life skills from her son. She remembers when Chad was about 13-months-old and learning how to walk, he was toddling along and fell and grazed his knees and began to cry. “As a mom, all I wanted to do was pick him up and kiss his knees better,” but she couldn’t. She looked at him and said “Boy, kiss it better.” Chad leaned forward and went “mwah, mwah,” and kissed both his knees. He then got up, with his tear stained face and carried on playing. Todd says she looked at her son and thought, “Do you know what, if my son at 13-months can get up and carry on with life after a fall, then so can I.”
Chad has also taught Todd how to relax a little as a mom. She remembers a day when he was playing outside and the dog had defecated right where he was playing. “My son begun to crawl towards it with great gusto and when he got to it, he stuck his hands in and started eating it, and I could do nothing to stop it,” she laughs. The more she kept saying, “no, boy,” the more he kept going “num-num.” It was on this day that she learnt that she cannot be in control of everything that her son does. She adds, “he didn’t come to too much harm, he just had dirty hands and smelly breath.”
Todd remembers the first day she laughed after the accident for the first time. She and Chad were in town, and she was talking to a good-looking man. Her little boy was climbing up and down her wheelchair as he usually does, and then he lifted up her blouse right above her head and she could not get him to put the blouse down. Smiling, she says, “Do you think I could get the guy to help me,” – typical”. Eventually, Todd just sat there and laughed, and it was at that moment, for the first time that she really laughed again (after her accident). “That day, my son taught me that it is okay to laugh at myself, and laugh with others,” she says, adding “you can’t get through life without a sense of humour.”
The old ‘adrenalin-junkie Tracy’ resurfaced unexpectedly one day when a complete stranger offered her a flip in his micro-light, and she accepted. “As we were flying up above Gods beautiful creation, I felt so free, and normal, and so alive. When we came back to land, I could see my empty wheelchair waiting for me and I choked up that I had to get back into it,” says Todd. However, she has come to realise that this ‘thing’- her battery-powered chin controlled wheelchair is her tool for mobility and freedom.
Most people see a wheelchair as a source of confinement, but for Todd, it is her independence. She admits, “Here I have this wonderful machine that is like my legs, I just walk differently to you, that’s all.” Todd explains that being paralysed doesn’t mean she does not have exactly the same needs as we do. She too needs to feel attractive; have her hair done; go to the mall to go shopping; go out with friends; hug; and kiss, the only difference is that she has to have someone help her fulfil these needs. She also shares that: “it’s the small things in life” that she misses, like being able to hug her son. She says, “The next time you hear your favourite song, get up and dance just because you can.” Todd also misses clapping her hands as a form of expression; waving to say hello; use her hands as she jokes, “I’m a teacher, and you know us teachers like to use our hands when we are talking and explaining things”; and being able to walk on the grass, and feel the grass on her feet - “It’s the smallest things in life I miss the most.”
Todd says that she has a wonderful support system. At home, her Care Assistants are “angels from heaven,” and she knows that “no amount of money could re-pay them for what they do for her.” She also has wonderful friends, that would drop anything to help her, whether day or night. However, she has learned that humans by nature are “quite selfish, and that if they are not getting anything out of a relationship in return, they don’t hang around.” Even though Todd is paralysed from the neck down, she is still capable of being a friend. She has learned that we need to “take time to listen to one another,” and that “time is a gift that I now have”. Todd’s parents, who have assisted her physically; financially; and emotionally, have taught her what unconditional love is all about. “I was living in a perfect world and didn’t appreciate what I had until I lost it, constantly complaining and never satisfied, I didn’t realise how much I actually had to be grateful for, until I lost it all,” says Todd.
“For as long as you are breathing, there’s life; and as long as there is life, there is hope,” say Todd, and it is for this reason she continues to live a full, meaningful life, and grabs every opportunity that comes her way. She has gotten involved with various organisations in her area, helping other people with disabilities and making a difference in their lives. She also does inspirational talks around the country, and most recently, has started a
blog that she is thoroughly enjoying, and uses as an outlet to reach many more people. Her dream is to write her autobiography, saying that “there’d be nothing nicer than going into Exclusive Books and seeing my book on the shelf.”

Before ending off her inspirational talk – and boy, was it ‘lump in my throat’ inspirational - she said we need to start counting our blessings, and not add up our troubles. “We are going through difficult times especially in our country,” says Todd. She knows first-hand that it is so easy to be negative and to complain, but believes we need to wake up in the morning and think, “what have I got to be grateful for today?”
Her motto in life: “who needs to walk when you can soar,” and she ended off by saying, “if I, as a quadriplegic, can continue to live a full meaningful life, just imagine the potential that each and every one of you has. We can continue to make a difference, continue to share and connect; and go out there and be a meaningful part of society.”
Overall, the event was thoroughly enjoyed and non-perishable food items were donated by all attendees.
“The food and drinks will long be forgotten but the message of an experienced and professional motivational speaker will stay with the audience forever,” part of Hospice in the West’s commitment to sharing the care in 2010!