Amanda Lacey, 21
Five years ago, when I was 16, I was vice president of Little Elm High School’s chapter of Students Against Drunk Driving. We put together a SADD-sponsored Valentine’s Day dance, and I stayed after to help clean up. We left after 1 a.m., and I was driving two of my friends home. A drunk driver pulled out in front of me. The headlights of the car came toward me and my friend yelled, “Amanda, he’s in your lane!” The next thing I remember, the paramedics came, put a plastic sheet over me, and sawed me out of the car. I was CareFlited to Methodist Hospital. I died twice on the way. I remember looking down at my right leg. There were screws coming in one side and out the other. My left leg was in a cast. I also had fractured ribs, a fractured collarbone, a dislocated jaw, a broken nose, a shattered cheekbone, and bruised lungs—plus neck, back, and hip injuries. They almost had to amputate my leg, but I had a muscle transplant. It was eight months before I could put weight on my left leg and a year and a half for the right leg. I just had my 28th surgery to tighten two screws in my right leg and connect a tendon to my big toe. I just got my first job. I work at Chili’s. I attend Collin County Community College, and I want to work with handicapped children. The guy who hit me received five years in jail, and he got out August 13. I have spoken to him, his wife, and his kid. I forgave him.
Lisa Lee, 40
and son Palmer, 2
I was on my way to Minor Emergency in Paris, Texas, where I worked as a nurse. I was running early. I’m usually late. There were two boys that skipped school, and they were passing another car as the road ran around a small curve and up a little hill. I had never thought that the hill was dangerous. They stayed in the passing lane and hit me head on. I don’t remember anything from that day. This is what my mom told to me. Both of the boys died at the scene. I broke my right ankle and fractured my fibula. I fractured my tibia, too, and lost a 4-inch piece of it. I also broke the femur in my right leg. That femur shot out the back of my pelvis. I fractured my hips in two. I basically split in half. My liver was lacerated, my left lung collapsed, and my jaw was broken in three places. I was a mess. They had to give me 13 units of blood. I was CareFlited to Baylor Hospital in Dallas. They had to take my temperature down by putting ice bags on my privates and all over my body. I was that way for a week. My mom told me I woke up once and started speaking Spanish. I don’t remember that. They thought I was going to die and then they said that I was going to be a vegetable. I was in a coma for 23 days. I had to relearn how to walk, and I had to go through physical therapy. Now I work for the EMS division of the American Medical Response in Hunt County.
It was a healthy pregnancy. When Chandler was born, he looked totally normal. I thought he was just dark. You couldn’t even tell he was sick. But then his tummy swelled really big, and the doctors did some tests and found that his liver numbers were jumping around. When he was 5 weeks old, they did a liver biopsy, and the doctors said his liver was shot. The only option was to do a liver transplant. It was so unexpected. They didn’t think he was going to be a liver candidate. They didn’t think he would survive the surgery. We had everyone in the family tested to see if they were a match, but no one was. Then he got really sick, and the doctors didn’t think he’d make it 10 days. They talked to us about living donors but told us I couldn’t do it because I just had Chandler. They went ahead and ran tests on me and found that I was a match. At seven and a half weeks postpartum, we went into surgery for the liver transplant. We both pulled through the surgery. Now he’s 17 months old and screams at the top of his lungs.