Zisa Strong

On June 2, 2019, our family of 3 went on a bike ride just after dinner and before getting our 17-month-old, Adalyn, ready for bed. We rode through our familiar neighborhood, stopping and waving at the neighbors that were outside. We rode to the Seminole County Trail, a safe place to ride bikes or take a walk, we had ridden this trail many times before. That night I remember hearing my daughter giggle as the wind was blowing her hair. Since birth she had been amazed by the wind blowing her hair. While we stood at the traffic light, waiting to cross the street, a drugged driver jumped the curb and ran us over. Adalyn, passed away and my husband, Dane, sustained a catastrophic brain injury. He was not given more than 24 hours to live. My (Shannon) right leg was severely broken and I laid awake on the sidewalk, watching the scene unfold, unable to get to my daughter or my husband. I was in shock and in full panic. The paramedics took Adalyn first while I begged them to take me with them but knowing in my heart that they couldn't. Then they took Dane. I was "alone" on the sidewalk, "alone" was a feeling I would become familiar with over the next 16 months. 

The driver that hit us was on a multitude of illegal drugs and she did not have any insurance. The mounting medical bills fall on us to pay. I spent a total of 31 days in the hospital with 4 surgeries during that time. I have since been diagnosed with severe PTSD and require a lot of trauma work. Dane, survived the unsurvivable. He spent a total of 221 days in the hospital, the first 5 months in the ICU and the remaining time bouncing between the ICU and the Rehabilitation Floor.  I couldn't even begin to give you an accurate guess on the number of surgeries that he underwent at that hospital. On January 8, 2020, Dane was moved to a Brain and Spinal Cord Rehabilitation Center (which was out of network with our insurance company). On September 28, 2020, Dane was moved to a Memory Care Center (which is private pay only). At the age of 35 and new parents we were not concerned with long term care insurance, rather we were more concerned with our daughter's college fund. We simply have no insurance that will help with his long term care and he requires a lot of it still. It is incredibly expensive to try and save our home while providing Dane with the best medical care possible. Adalyn only ever made it to the trauma bay. She was pronounced dead at our local children's hospital, across the street from the trauma bay that held her parents. Her funeral took place on August 3, 2019. I was forced to face the ultimate heartbreak and I had to do it all while my husband laid in the ICU fighting for his life. 

These past 16 months have been hell on earth for me. For a grieving mother, we are all to aware of the 1440 minutes that make up one excruciating day without our child. If we are lucky enough to survive those 1440 minutes we get to do all over again the next day. Time has not been kind to me. There is no time to grieve because I have to be the medical voice of not only myself but also my husband. I have to figure what is best for the person that I used to talk to about everything and now cannot, and I have to face a man that looks like my husband but has a catastrophic brain injury and therefore is nothing like the man I married.

Our medical debt is outrageous and it is growing by the day. Over the past 16 months we have become known as Zisa Strong. This community and the one that surrounds my physically has kept me going when I honestly thought I had nothing left to give. I thank you for continuing to follow our journey and for your thoughts, prayers, and donations. We have come a long way but we still have such a long way to go.