The Driving Force

By Norman Conley

     For all those who don't know me, my name is Norman Conley; on August 22, 1970, I went squirrel hunting. I was sitting behind some underbrush watching two squirrels play, and I thought to myself, "How beautiful they are, it must be a sin to kill them.  I wonder what it feels like to be shot." Then a split-second later, two shots rang out.  I had been accidentally shot twice by one of the guys that I was hunting with. I fell onto my side; the last thing I remember seeing is the beautiful blue sky through the top of a huge oak tree, and I thought to myself, "How beautiful the sky is."  I knew I had been shot, but it was too late to do anything about it; within a couple of seconds, I passed out.
     It took several minutes to get me to a hospital; they had to go call an ambulance, and they had to carry me out of the woods by hand. After arriving at the hospital, my neck was so badly swollen that they had to do a Tracheotomy so I could breathe. I laid there several hours before they did surgery on me; there were so many pellets, and so spread out that they chose to remove the ones that entered my spinal column.  Those were the ones that caused the problem.
     I remained in a coma; battling double pneumonia, and extremely high fevers.  Soon, I began having brain seizures, caused from the shot to the head. The seizures came more frequently with time, and became so violent that my family couldn't stand to watch me suffer any longer. The doctor thought my heart would explode. By this time, my wife was willing to give me up to death, rather than watch me suffer any more; she prayed that God would either heal me or take my life.
     Soon the seizures stopped. My body had gone through such torment that I was just skin and bone, I weighed 235 pounds at the time of the accident, now it was doubtful that I'd weigh 110 pounds. A little while later, I woke out of the coma to find that I was totally paralyzed and unable to speak. I couldn't even blink my eyes, and at first, I was blind. With time my sight came back. It seemed as if I were trapped in a nightmare, and I wanted desperately to wake up.
     The doctors told my family that I wouldn't live, but when I kept living, they were sure I'd be nothing more than a living vegetable because my brain was totally destroyed. Several times my temperature spiked too high to be registered, and my blood pressure would drop too low to be detected. They gave me up for dead each time; surely I would have died if it had not been for the prayers of my family, and the mercy of God.
     While in the coma, there were times when I was semiconscious, so I knew some of what was going on. I had wanted to give up and die, then I dreamed that someone was trying to kill my wife, so from that day on, I fought to live, to protect my wife.
     As the weeks went by, I began to turn my head from side to side. It took total concentration, and several minutes to do it. If someone were to lift my arm or leg and dropped it, it would drop like a rock.
     In time, I left the hospital and went to a private nursing home. As the months went by, some movement slowly came back into my limbs, but I had no coordination at all. From there I went to live with my wife at my in-law's home for a few months. Then I was accepted in the Chicago Rehabilitation Center. While there, I went through even more suffering; I didn't receive good care, and I only ate one meal a day, that was when my family was there in time to feed me. After six weeks, they sent me home, tagged as a hopeless case, never to walk again. Then a couple of months later, my father-in-law passed away, so we decided to move to Chattanooga.
     I went through several years of deep depression; being confined to a house didn't help matters. I spent my life sitting in a recliner or lying in bed, it was very rough, but I managed to hold on to the Lord and kept believing that some day I'd be able to walk again. I discovered that self-pity was like quicksand, the longer I wallowed in it, the deeper I sank. My wife took excellent care of me; she was always there to lift me up in spirit, but at times, that was a full-time job.
     Then while searching for some type of speech device, I discovered that I could receive physical therapy. With a lot of faith, prayer, pain, hard work and help from the physical therapist, I reached the point where we thought that I'd be able to walk, but I needed surgery to correct a very bad case of footdrop. So we found a doctor that could do the surgery, he had doubts that it would work, but my faith was so strong, that he was willing to give it a try; and a few weeks later, I took my first steps in five long years of being confined to a chair or bed.
     In time, I was able to locate and obtain a speech synthesizer to talk for me. It will say anything, but it's slow, and since it's synthesized speech, some words are hard to understand. This really helped me out, now I can ask questions and make my thoughts known verbally, instead of spelling everything out on an alphabet board. The alphabet board was a great help, before I had it, anyone wanting to talk to me had to repeat the alphabet a "blue million" times, and I'd look to the right when they reached the letter I needed to spell out whatever I wanted to say. This was painstakingly slow, and at times I felt as if I would explode before I could get out what I was saying. Since my parents couldn't read, I couldn't talk to them without someone to interpret for me. I thank God for the speech device, but I still believe that some day, I'll be able to verbally speak with my own voice.
     Something kept driving me to get as well as I possibly could. When I first started walking, I used a walker for a month, then I graduated to forearm crutches. For some reason, I was never satisfied with my life, I had to try to get back the life that I was cheated out of. About a year later, I put away the crutches, and started using a single cane; in time, I put away the cane also, and walked by faith.
     In 1984, I took the GED test and got a high school diploma. My parents were disabled by illness, so I had dropped out of school at the age of 16 and got a job to help out financially. I wanted to attend school at Chattanooga State, but was told that I couldn't go there because I didn't have a personal attendant to help me.
     Over the years, I held on to my dreams, even though it looked as if they were out of my reach, but I had to set goals and strive to reach them. I managed to get an old IBM compatible computer, and taught myself how to use it. I discovered that I had a talent with computers; my knowledge and skill was greater than most people that use computers for a living. Yet I wasn't satisfied, my thirst for knowledge kept pulling me forward.
     So in the Fall of '93, I applied to enroll at Chattanooga State again, Vocational Rehab agreed to help me. I thought I wanted a degree in Micro Computers, but after two semesters, I changed my major to Advertising Arts. This would allow me to combine art and computers, two things that I was not only good at, but I enjoyed working with both. It would be hard for me because I still have nerve damage that causes me to be slower than the other students. I felt that I had to at least give it a try, I have a talent and I hate to see it wasted.
      I've had to take some time off from school to have corrective surgery on my feet; then my mother-in-law got sick and needed someone to stay with her, I took off for a year and stayed with her, so my wife could work. Then in November of 1998, I took a bad fall, and broke a vertebra in my neck. That really set me back; there were doubts that I'd walk again. Had the break been a little worse, my doctor said I'd have died instantly, it was the vertebra that controls the breathing. Each different doctor that sees my x-rays are awed in amazement, there are approximately 90 shotgun pellets in my face and skull, more or less… They wonder who I am, what happened to me and how I lived.
     Anyway, God saw fit to let me recover, and return to school. I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel; in May of 2001, I graduated with a degree in Applied Science and Art (Advertising Arts); I can do graphic design, page layout and web sites.
     I feel that anyone can reach their goals if they are willing to work for what they want. Although I have overcome many obstacles, I don't think I'm a success story, there is so much of my life missing. I can't take all the credit for where I am today. Above all, I give God credit, then my wife, Shirley, many doctors and physical therapists. Also our families and friends that sent up thousands of prayers for me. What God has done for me, He will do for anyone.
     Some people think I look retarded, but I assure you, I am not. Handicapped people are like everyone else, we have the same feelings and thoughts, but we have to work harder to get the same results. Don't judge people by how they look, get to know them before judging them.
     You know, we all have so much to be thankful for, every day should be a day of thanksgiving to God, He deserves much more praise then we give him. I didn't testify today to lift myself up, I testified so you could see how God has worked his mighty works in my life, so He could receive the glory. I know I wouldn't be here without God, and I thank Him for giving me a wonderful, loving wife that stood by me from beginning to the end, It has been equally as hard on her, not many women would have done that. Without Shirley, I wouldn't have a reason for living.