Over the last eleven years I have heard bits and pieces from different people of what really happened the night I got ran over. Last weekend, when two of my friends from college visited Puerto Rico, they told me what they remember from that night.

Apparently, I was supposed to meet them at one of the bars but I was late. They didn’t think much of it at first because they all knew I was always late. I think they’re exaggerating a little, I know I take little while to be ready but it couldn’t have been known by everyone. Anyway, they had been calling me and I didn’t pick up the phone and they started to think that was weird.

After like two hours more people showed up and said there were a lot of cops on Comstock Avenue, the avenue right outside campus, that someone had been run over. That’s when they really worried. They kept calling and finally a cop answered my phone and he told my friend I had been run over, they were taking me to the university hospital.

A group of them quickly headed to the hospital to see what happened but they never imagined it was something that bad. They said they thought it was just like a broken leg. I was already in surgery when they got to the hospital so they didn’t see me immediately.

I already knew my brother had to give them permission for them to perform a surgery on me. Until now, I always thought it was the first craniotomy, but because that one was an emergency, they didn’t need anyone’s permission. They did need his permission for the second craniotomy to stop the swelling on the other side of my head.

My friends said they were there with him and were able to hear everything the doctors told him. That he was really strong and was able to keep it all together, until they pulled him away and told him he had to say goodbye to me. That’s when he broke down.

I always knew my brother loves me, he was and is always there for me, always has and always s, but I didn’t know they told him he would have to say goodbye to me at any point. I wasn’t told exactly what happened but they just said he wasn’t able to handle it anymore. I know I wouldn’t have been able to handle it either, not for as long as he did. I can’t and don’t even want to imagine someone telling me that I have to say goodbye to my brother. I know I would break into a million pieces. I hate that he had to go through that.

I don’t think I will ever get the whole story since I was alone when it happened and I don’t remember and it was difficult hearing all of this, especially since it’s difficult for people to talk about but it made me more sure of what I already knew: I am lucky to be surrounded by people who love me. That is the best thing in the world and having people who are there for me and with me is what makes me unstoppable. Without them and the support they give me, I wouldn’t have come this far. I am very sorry I made them go through this.

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