A HANDICAP CAR GETS FRANCESCA SOLURI HER FREEDOM

Rob Soluri is organizing this fundraiser.

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Just past 1 am on August 23, 2020, a sweet, fun-loving 23-year-old young woman named Francesca pulled out her smartphone to make a video. This wasn’t a social media post on Instagram or Tiktok. Or a cute lifestyle update to her friends. The video was made in case something happened her family would find this on her phone. Her message let them know that whatever happened next, she appreciated and loved them so so very much. And she was sorry for putting them through all this.

The all this she was referring to was the emergency high-risk surgery she was about to receive from a team of concerned neurosurgeons.

You see, the previous day, Francesca and two friends were hiking a 61-acre piece of American history high above Narragansett Bay. Known for its astonishing views of Newport Harbor, Ft. Wetherhill is an abandoned military fortress perched 100 rocky feet above ground level that is now a Rhode Island State Park.

The trio spent the day making their way up the vertical embankments and hillsides—a favored destination for hikers and history buffs. Graffiti artists claimed the bloated exterior and interior cement walls, floors and dozens of empty buildings as their unofficial legal canvasses. As a summer rain began, the three spotted a building that could provide shelter. Francesca climbed onto the wide cement windowsill pivoting to enter feet first. Expecting the inside floor to be ground level, she let go. The floor beneath that part of the room was missing. Time and space vanish as she free-fell approximately 8-10 feet into the darkness of an underground chamber below thumping the concrete floor at full velocity. If not for her extensive martial arts training, the outcome might have been fatal.

“It was just muscle memory” she explained. “I didn’t think, just reacted.” Sensei Keith stressed the correct way to fall, pushing Francesca and the other students down over and over teaching them to instinctively protect head with hands, tuck and roll upon impact when meeting the ground without tensing or resistance. Now she found herself in a narrow concrete crypt. Henry ran down the mountain calling 911 on route. Daria stood watch above. Francesca attempted to move but the pain had other ideas. She instead focused on two things: breathing and staying conscious. Keeping her eyes open to stay couscous led to her to reconnect with an old friend—meditation.

Unable to turn her head she found herself staring forward—she noticed 8 eyes were glaring back. She was face to little face with a massive spider.

“I’m petrified of spiders, but I couldn’t move. We were in this together like cellmates. After a while he seemed cute. The upside is I’m not afraid of spiders any longer. I do wish I had thought to name him.”

Hardly big enough for Francesca and her nameless friend, the concrete vault became over capacity when an EMS worker and a body board were lowered in. The paramedic said I can’t lift you; you’ll have to pull yourself on the board. Breathing itself was agonizing. Her neck, head, legs and feet were as unbending as the surrounding concrete and rebar. Fighting to stay conscious, she took a deep breathe…then pulled, screamed, sobbed and willed herself on that board. Carefully they raised her from the pit. EMS workers took shifts carrying the strapped-in Francesca down the wet, rocky trail sending thunderbolts of pain with every bump and movement during the agonizing 90-minute trek to the ambulance.

Arriving at Rhode Island Hospital in Provincetown, a Level 1 Trauma Center, she was rushed in for immediate x-rays. In a waiting room she lay painfully strapped and frozen for what seemed like an eternity. Suddenly three nurses burst in. One announced; a surgical team is prepping for emergency surgery and there are serious risks involved but there is no other option. We’re taking you in NOW! Before wheeling her to surgery she asked “may I please make a video for my family. In case…you know. Please?” Seeing the pleading in Francesca’s eyes, the nurse whispered a reluctant of course honey…just make it quick!

The spinal surgery went well into the early morning and when she finally awoke, she had a T12 Thoracic spinal fracture and an L1 Lumbar spinal cord injury leaving her with no feeling in her feet or lower legs. Involuntary, painful muscle contractions, partial paralysis, reduced muscle control and bladder and bowel dysfunction. Simply put; she had a severe, incomplete spinal cord injury with a permanent steel pole and screws through her spine. A paraplegic.

A six-week hospital stay and another full year of therapy followed. And ongoing PT 3 times a week now. Francesca is getting used to her new reality—forearm crutches for short distances and a wheelchair when she tires. Wheelchair all day when spasms prevent any leg control.

“I had to hit the reset button on my life because the world is set up differently for me now. I guess from here on I’m wheelchair girl” she said with zero sign of irritation or self-pity in her voice.

This remarkable young woman relies on friends to get around. Costly UBER rides when friends aren’t available has trashed her budget along with her schedule. She tries to be as independent as possible getting to physical therapy, food shopping and navigating life.

Everything for Francesca now is a conscious consideration as she fights daily to perform tasks we all (and she used to) take for granted. But fight she does. “I hate when people say I’m some hero or something. Believe me, I have bad days like everyone. The world just isn’t set up for me anymore. Life outside my apartment is an obstacle course. This is my world now, but honestly, my life is pretty amazing.”

She still has little feeling in her lower legs and two years after ‘FALL DAY’, she likely never will. In fact, as we speak, she’s recovering from another infection she got from a cut on her leg she couldn’t feel.

Francesca is in desperate need of a dependable handicap vehicle. With limited and sometimes no feeling in her legs or feet it needs to be hand control operated. She’s a petite girl and she would prefer a smaller vehicle. Just large enough to store her wheelchair in. Unfortunately, the price of cars is currently the highest in history. None of us can do anything about that. What we can do is help a brave, spirited, determined young woman remain as independent as possible.

The quote below is from her Occupational Therapist Sarah who Francesca worked with. Her words speak volumes to Francesca's grit, determination and inspirational attitude.

No, she can’t WALK how she used to. But a dependable hand control vehicle will allow Francesca to once again, RUN her own life. Help us make that a reality. Thank you in advance for your gift no matter what the amount!

Francesca added: “I’m so grateful to all my friends and family. And thank you everyone for your words of encouragement, your thoughts and your generosity. Namaste.”