After work one August night in 1982 crashed at my dorm, woke up and registered for my senior year and drove home to my parents house. Got up Saturday morning, drove to the beach picking up three buddies on the way, they informed me there was a surfing contest at the inlet.

Drove to Sebastian and three seconds life changed. Dove off the jetty, bounced off the bottom of the Atlantic then slowly floated up face down behind the break.

Waited for my head to clear in order to roll over and swim for shore. Unfortunately, it didn't work. Realizing that I need to take a breath soon, raised my elbow (learning later about no triceps) as a swell went by, rolling me over on my back.

Took a breath, relax, no problem stars had gone away, head was clearing, now will just roll over and swim for shore, still didn't work. Then someone started towing me (there were 10,000 people there) and, then put me on a long board, then some sort of stretcher at the beach, into a 4 x 4 vehicle at the water line, to a gurney in the parking lot and into an ambulance.

Got discharged from rehab on Friday and on Saturday morning two of my nurses picked me up in a candy apple red T top Corvette and as we drove down A1A, the friend who bought my '71 Satellite pulled up to the stop sign right as we drove by. Another friend bought my bike, a ?76 750 Yamaha swing back with a driveshaft.

For most of the 80s had to drive to Orlando to get any help with the SCI then they built Sea Pines and met Dr. Miller. He wore scrubs and flip-flops and had an Atari game in his office, my kind of guy. Remember him telling me to shut up and listen and would learn something, always did.

Knew two things after breaking my neck 1) could not live with my parents and 2) could not count on Social Security. Didn't have a penny to my name, so after finishing my degree in Business and couldn't get a job, went back to school and getting a degree in computers.

From working full-time, Scuba diving, waterskiing, chess tournaments, traveling the country and living in hotels for months from Burbank to Birmingham, Nashua to Key West, am now paying the price. One of my biggest problems is accepting help and yesterday was admitted to hospice, is there any interest in what happened in between? Does my story interest anyone, is it any different than anyone else's? My demise is not imminent, just takes a little bit to get your head around the label.