I work in a hospital as a nursing assistant. One day I was working, and my boss came to me and said that we need to talk. I thought, What did I do wrong? I am very outgoing and love people, so I enjoy my work to the fullest. I love to make people relaxed and laugh. We walked all the way to emergency—I work in the heart unit, which is quite a distance. We get there and two men in suits are waiting I joked, “Okay take me away!” No one laughs, and they proceed to tell my two girls were in a car accident. My oldest, seventeen, was dead, and my eleven-year-old was being flown to Albany Med. This was three years ago. I will not forget that feeling and the smell. My daughter was in surgery for over fifteen hours. She was paralyzed from the waist down from the seatbelt—it cut her straight through. I stayed at the hospital for five months. She had to learn to talk again, she had a visual disorder, and of course she had to learn to just sit up and function. She ended up weighing forty-eight pounds when she came out of coma a month after accident. I had to identify my oldest during all of this and have funeral. I am a single parent, plus I have a son who was younger—he happened to not be with the girls that day because he fell at school the day before and broke his foot. It was a long recovery and hard work; I will never get over the loss of Jessie, my oldest—every day I think about her. As for Corey, she is going strong. We go all over to try to get her to walk again. She is developing into a beautiful girl. She weighs 120 and is five feet and three inches. But when Mom, who is five foot one, has to carry her—it is hard. I still work full time, just longer days, so I am not away from my two children long. My mom watches them after school so I can keep supporting us.