(Mission Times Courier, San Diego, CA) - Bill Lundstrom doesn’t remember the accident. He can’t even recall what he did most of that day. He remembers having breakfast, but after that, nothing. He doesn’t remember riding his motorcycle to Julian with his buddy. Doesn’t remember having apple pie. He has no memory of getting on the bike to go back home or seeing a car suddenly make a left-hand turn into his lane...
He woke up three weeks later from a medically induced coma and knew immediately he was not the same man. He was paralyzed from the waist down. He had suffered a brain injury. He had had a stroke. He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t swallow.
It was 10 years ago. He was 27.
When people talk of comebacks, they often refer to athletes coming back from a down year or an injury. Or an actor coming back from of a flop and starring in a gem.
Lundstrom’s comeback is more inspiring. And, fittingly, it has been recognized. The College Area resident was honored at the Sharp HealthCare Foundation’s 2012
Victories of Spirit event held June 1. Along with three others, he was honored with the Eagle Spirit Award.
This annual ceremony, now in its 22nd year, celebrates former rehabilitation patients who have made great personal achievements and helped others.
It’s little wonder that Lundstrom was honored. In the decade since his accident, he’s fought hard to help those with similar injuries to enjoy a more vibrant lifestyle. For instance, he started a nonprofit called Fighting Chair Sports, which allowed for those with spinal cord injuries to go ocean sport fishing. He cofounded a wheelchair lacrosse league. And he’s a board member of HeadNorth, which helps those with spinal cord injuries regain their lives. According to the organization, there are as many as 3,000 survivors of spinal cord injuries living in San Diego County.
“My life is too short to sit at home and not get out and live it,” Lundstrom said.
Jerome Stenehjem, the medical director of the Sharp Memorial Rehabilitation Center where Lundstrom underwent care, said Lundstrom is a rare human being.
“He’s not defined by his disabilities,” Stenehjem said. “He’s moved on with a measure of confidence and grace that you rarely see. He’s very special.”
These injuries can, of course, cause zap the very life out of people. “It’s a tremendous challenge,” Stenehjem said. “He makes it look easy. And it’s not easy.”
Lundstrom certainly didn’t have it easy – not from the beginning. His very survival was in question, given the extent of his injuries. “I was in pretty rough shape,” he said.
The most frustrating part was he couldn’t communicate. His thoughts were lucid, but he couldn’t speak or use his hands to write. His family and friends were a big help, he said. They were constantly present at the Palomar Medical Center, which is where he had been sent after the accident.
Through them, he began understanding the extent of his injuries. He was also allowed to have a say in where he would do his rehab: Either locally or in some other part of the country. He wanted to stay close to home, so he went to the Sharp facility, which is where he spent the next two months relearning basic skills, such as speaking.
Initially, he was bitter and depressed, which is to be expected. He held anger toward the woman driver who hit him. But, in time, he moved on. “My life is too short to think about that anymore,” he said.
Instead, he went about living life. For instance, as soon as he was released from rehab, he and a friend [who happens to be a Chicago Bears fan] went to see the Green Bay Packers take on the Bears at Lambeau Field in Green Bay.
“It’s the coldest I ever been in my life,” he joked. But it proved to him that he could indeed reclaim his life.
A civil engineer, he went back to work. A fisherman, he went fishing again.
But there was a problem with that – it was difficult for him to get around in the boat. So his dad bought a bigger boat that was able to accommodate him. But Lundstrom didn’t think it was fair that he alone got this perk.
That’s why he started Fighting Chair Sports, which offered free fishing trips to people in similar conditions. Unfortunately, the boat proved too expensive for the family to keep.
Lundstrom didn’t stop there. He and a buddy, Ryan Baker, learned that there was no organized wheelchair lacrosse league in the nation, so the two of them started one. “Right now, it’s a labor of love, but I hope it can become more.”
On the personal side, in the ensuing years, he started his own civil engineering business, got married and now has a 2-year-old son.
Some kind of a comeback, no?
“When I got stuck in this position, a lot of people helped me,” he said. “So I want to help others. It’s sort of what you’re supposed to do, right?”
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