Fundraising for wheelchair

My name is Kettrin. In March 2013, after finishing work on a Friday, I went to a party. But sadly, not everyone goes out with good intentions. At 2:30 in the morning, I became the victim of a stray bullet.

Lying on the ground, I closed my eyes and prayed. I thanked God for my life and asked Him for another chance. The bullet was a .22 caliber small, yet capable of causing fatal internal bleeding. I wasn’t bleeding outwardly, only swelling badly. Then I began to sing a worship song I had learned as a child in church. At that very moment, the blood finally began to flow and that was what kept me alive.

I couldn’t have imagined that my life was about to change forever. A tiny bullet, fired by someone who had been celebrating with me just moments before, brought consequences I never sought.

At the hospital, I underwent emergency surgery. The doctor told me the projectile was lodged in my spinal cord, and that I would never walk again I would need a wheelchair for the rest of my life. I respected his profession and the care he had given me, but with a tear streaming down my face, I answered:
“You are not the Doctor of doctors. Jesus is.”

Right after, I called a missionary who was a friend of my aunt. She prayed for me and said with conviction: “That bullet will not be in your spinal cord.” I believed her. And during the surgery, the miracle happened: the bullet was not in my spinal cord. Even more incredible it had shattered into four pieces. To remove them, the doctors had to break my spine.

Just four days later, still in the hospital, I began to regain sensation. Soon afterward, I was transferred to CRER, a rehabilitation and recovery hospital, where I stayed for 90 days.

At only 20 years old, I had to relearn how to live: how to eat, how to bathe, how to dress myself. Those were intense days days of pain, but also days of discovery. Days when I held back my tears just to bring smiles to my fellow patients. Little by little, I regained movement in my feet, gained control of my torso, and left the hospital ready to face the world again.

It is not easy to start over after losing your steps. It is not simple to leave for a party walking and return home in a wheelchair. But life taught me something precious: life is good!

It is a blessing to live, to smile, to celebrate every moment. It is a privilege to use my pain and my testimony as a voice of authority to tell anyone: No matter how big your struggle is, never give up on life!

Celebrate the miracle of life. Treasure your family, your friends. Be grateful to God for every breath, every new day, every victory no matter how small.

Forgive those who hurt you. Love those who stood by you when you needed it most. Because it is with those people that the journey is truly worth continuing.