I could tell when the beam was finally lifted off me only because I could feel the air on my left leg. But I could hardly move it, and the right one just felt like it was dead. I couldn’t move it. I couldn’t feel it. If they had told me it wasn’t there, I would have believed them. But I wasn’t too worried about it at that point. I was alive and knew I was going to have a long road to recovery ahead of me. First things first—just get me out.
