"GOOD THINGS ARE ALWAYS ON THE WAY"

In a Chapel talk, Addie McElveen ’21 reflected on an accident that changed her life — and who she is.

The thing about trauma is you either can recall everything that happened or nothing. I can remember everything.

I remember the strong current in the water while I sat on my surfboard, and the confidence I felt paddling toward my boat, like I had done countless times in my life. I remember seeing my friend Chloe standing at the back of the boat, ready to switch positions with me in the water.

But what I remember most vividly is the look of complete disbelief on my dad’s face when he pulled me out of the water. While I lay on my back screaming, “Help me, someone help me,” my dad yelled for help from other boaters. Chloe held my leg together with a towel, and I looked up to see her bawling.

As my brother called 911, I stared up at the sky. It was peaceful, yet everything else was not. As I looked at the sky, I prayed that I would make it through this and thanked God for the incredible life I had lived so far.

The adrenaline made me unable to feel pain until I was in the ambulance. I did not cry until I saw my mom in the emergency room.

When I was growing up in South Carolina, we were always around the water, and being out on the boat was just a thing that nearly every kid did. I learned to wakeboard when I was 6 years old, and one of my fondest summer memories was riding with my friends on a tube towed by the boat, getting thrown around.

Though we were warned to stay away from the propeller, it seemed unthinkable that we could be injured by one. Prior to the moment the boat propeller hit my left leg, I never really believed anything like this would happen to me.

The physical healing of my leg was a very lengthy process, and I’ve endured 12 surgeries, including one just a year ago. But the hardest part was healing from injuries you couldn’t see, like the severe PTSD that came along with my traumatic accident. Many nights were spent sleepless, or I would awake in a manic state due to nightmares about the accident or some other dramatic events, such as falling off of a cliff or saving my family from a shooter. When I woke up, I would believe I was in the hospital because of the events in the nightmare. At first, I could not wrap my head around my injury and how it was changing my life. Most of my flashbacks stem from the feeling of fear and helplessness and the thought that I might die from blood loss or lose my leg.

My accident happened on a Sunday, following just the first two days of eighth grade. This was a transition period for me. I had shifted from being someone who only cared only about gymnastics to someone who wanted to be with my friends and develop my own identity. Social media was influencing my thoughts about myself, and my family saw that I was growing disconnected from them.

I intentionally do not call my accident bad, because it wasn’t all bad; I choose to view my accident as a blessing because of the lessons I learned. In order to wake up, some of us need a wake-up call, and this was mine.

My whole world was turned upside down in a matter of seconds — not to mention the strain it put on my parents. One of the things that I struggle with most is making sure my dad does not feel guilty for my pain; it is called an accident for a reason.

Parts of being in the hospital were easy. The nurses were so nice, and I felt safe in the hands of the doctors. But I struggled with seeing the small child in the room across from me who, at the age of 2, was dealing with terminal cancer. That is what broke me. Knowing that even if I lost my leg, I would still live my life more or less to its full extent, and that seemed unfair compared to what other children in the hospital faced.

Witnessing others this way was new for me and unlocked a deeper sense of empathy. I’m not going to bash the person I was before my accident, but you probably would not recognize her compared to the person I have become because of the insight and belief systems I have developed as a result of my trauma.

My perception of the world around me is different now. My senses are heightened, so sometimes it can be difficult to release feelings of stress or anxiety. However, I appreciate the small yet beautiful moments that would go unnoticed before. What happened to me could have been multitudes worse, so I felt lucky to have avoided a serious life-hindering injury.

“Positivity… got me through the difficult days,” says Addie, here with Lucy Bland ’21 on an Outdoor Leadership trip last year. Despite 12 surgeries on her left leg following the boating accident, Addie ran cross country for three years.

I was determined to keep a positive attitude throughout the process, and I can say with confidence that I did just that. There were many moments of uncertainty regarding my leg, but I was lucky enough to, with time, make a full recovery. Still, healing is not linear. There are still days when I am constantly afraid something terrible is about to happen, or that my friends cannot calm my anxiety.

At the same time, I would not have decided to come to Episcopal if I had not been in my accident. While recovering from surgeries, I was homeschooled for a year by my mom and did an eighth-grade online program. This made me feel out of control of everything. I could not take a regular shower for about half of the year and couldn’t walk normally for a year. I sat in the hospital bed for about a month trying to imagine what it felt like to walk or to stand up on a surfboard.

I began my ninth-grade year in a wheelchair at a high school of 5,000 students. I was eager to become independent and in control of my life again, which led me to look at boarding school. I felt like a small fish in a big pond at my local school, and I wanted to get to know my teachers and peers on a more personal level. I also had a new outlook on life and wanted to take advantage of every opportunity that came my way, like Episcopal. So here I am now, four and a half years later. I am still recovering, but I am proud of myself for the way I handled this hardship.

As a sophomore, I asked Rev. Carmody, the EHS head chaplain, if I could give a talk in Chapel. Her reply was, “I would wait, Addie. Your story is not finished yet.” That is one of the truest things anyone has ever said to me. We all have our struggles big or small. They are all equally important to our lives, and the way you face a horrible situation shows more about you than the difficult thing you are experiencing.

So I urge you to not run from the so-called bad things in life but to embrace them with your most true and unique self. One day, when you’re surfing the perfect wave or doing what you love most, you will appreciate it more than you would ever imagine. Good things are always on the way; you just have to believe they’re coming to you.

I have chosen to not allow my accident to define me as a person, but to rather enjoy life through this new perspective I have been given. I realized that life is precious, but that does not mean you ever have to stop taking risks. I also know that my accident could have been much more extensive if I had been hit anywhere else. As we all know, life is never going to stop presenting its challenges, and everyone deals with their own personal battles. We get to decide how we face those challenges. Positivity, even in the hardest of times, got me through the difficult days, along with faith that things would get better.

Today I get the privilege of walking to class and surfing during the summers. I was even able to run three seasons on the cross country team, something that at one point seemed impossible.

Most important, I have had the incredible privilege of being an Episcopal student these past three years and would not change my experience for the world because it led me here.