Praying for a chance to walk again!

Hey, I’m Sinead Mccall born oct 4, 1990. I’m from Chicago, Illinois, and I AM here! I would have never imagined myself writing this story, that would not be just any simple story but my story. Not knowing how much of an understatement the words “ what a difference a second makes” until now. April 17, 2017 I woke up as a hair stylist. I woke up a music, friend, and dance loving queen. Marching to the beat of my own drum type of woman. I was fearless. I was a mother of a three year old with so much happiness and joy in my heart. A 26 year old living an unapologetic vibrant life and just learning how to really navigate through life. That day I met my sons father to take him to the store in the morning. Something that I would do without a doubt if asked, especially because I needed to stop at the store myself. Not thinking for one moment April 17th would be a day I would never forget, a day that turned my entire world around. That day we both got back into the car, and in the second it took me to put the car in reverse, I looked in my rear view mirror and screamed with fear when I saw a man running up to the side of a car with a gun! In a literal second, April 17th became a horrible memory that would leave me paralyzed and give me PTSD and dreams I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I was shot multiple times and my sons father was instantly killed. There wasn’t enough time or space to back up or pull out, and nowhere to run. I watched as the life left his body and blood poured from his body like something I’ve only seen in a movie. Only able to hear the last words he would say to me “pull off sinead”. How I wish it was that easy to say okay and drive off. The adrenaline inside me was so high I didn’t even know I was shot until finally getting the door open and falling out the car like a bag of potatoes. I could only remember praying and asking God to keep my son safe and covered. Asking God to keep me alive and begging my angels to get me up. That’s when it really hit me that I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get out of this horrible dream even if I wanted to. That day a total of 11 bullets entered that car and changed our lives forever, nearly making my son a double orphan in that moment. Through the grace of God my son still has one parent. I survived and my tomorrow is still happening. But now I wake up everyday to all the harsh realities; that my sons dad is dead, that although my spine was intact the bullet was lodged near it and fragments as well, that for right now I can’t feel my lower extremities, that I must undergo extensive rehab and not to mention reconstructive surgery on my elbow from being shot there too. For months I woke up crying out loud asking God why didn’t that boy just finish and take my life? Why would I be left this way? Crying every single day feeling extremely violated. Hating that woman I once knew was slowly leaving my body. Hating that the girl that once loved music now only wants silence. That vibrant girl that loved being around people only wanted to be alone, underneath a cover and scared out my mind that I’ll never be happy again. Scared I’ll never be able to play with my son the way we use to, scared I’ll never be loved and dance and laugh like I use to. I went from being the girl that kept my hair done, to not caring how I looked. I went from being that girl that loves music to not listening to music at all. It didn’t feel the same anymore. It felt like I could no longer relate to anything. I felt like I was becoming more and more invisible. I spent months in the hospital and nursing home full of older people looking at me and wondering why I was there. Months at a nursing facility that was too far to get frequent visits and a language barrier that made it impossible for a lot of staff to even understand what I needed. It was unfortunate that my family was unable to care for me at home because of cost and home moderations needed for my situation. I’m blessed my family and friends were able care for my son while gone, but the pain I felt not being able to be with my son everyday and watching as everybody else take care of him the way I once was hurt even more! I felt like it wasn’t fair for him! They tried to make things as normal as possible for him and for that I’m forever grateful. I never knew how much we as humans take all the little things for granted, until I found myself in tears everyday simply from needing help to sit up, needing help to take a shower and use the bathroom. Finding myself feeling like a slave to watching the clock everyday to do a task one would think is so simple as getting up to urine. To now having to urine in a bag and the humiliating feeling of being a child again just to do the number two. I can go on about those feelings but I’ll spare you the details. Screaming crying asking God why me! Grateful I had my little sister and Bestfriend to cry to on the days I felt like I just didn’t want to live this way anymore! I found myself not looking in a mirror at myself for months because I no longer liked the reflection. I had completely lost myself. I let the boy who did this to me and those doctors who told me I wouldn’t walk again take my hope. Until I told myself I’m goin to need that back! I spoke to God and he reminded me in different ways that he has the last say so in this. I began to do research that put me in place to meet and speak to people who were able to relate to my injury. That gave me the hope and strength I needed to pick my head up and know that with faith and consistent therapy, I can get back up again. That’s easier said then done. With insurance not paying for rehabilitation and not having a 401k or plan to fall back on I began to feel like once again I was stuck. The little money, although very grateful I receive from social security is being spent on sessions for me to get therapy, but it doesn’t cover much and only allows me to go two days out the week. My family tries to help when they can but with trying to help me take care of my son and having their own lives it’s impossible for that to be enough help to get me on my feet again. So I had to learn that in this I have to be vulnerable and ask for help even when I’m not use to it. I have to take risks and I’m willing to do whatever I can to get my life and take my happiness back. I want my son to know I’m still his hero and I’ll walk again. I want him to know those nights he woke up crying saying “mommy I saw u walking” will happen again for me! I want my son to remember that vibrant woman I was. So here I am asking for help!! I’m asking for anyone reading this to find it in your heart to help me financially with rehabilitation cost. Any type of donation would go strictly to my intensive therapy sessions. Being the very much so independent person I’m use to, this took a lot of courage to publicly ask for help, but I can’t do this alone. Nobody is prepared for situations like this. Well nobody that I know of, my family and friends do what they can. I’m just simply asking for your help to get a second chance at life! I’m praying and asking for help to walk again. Any type of donation would be greatly appreciated and I’ll be forever grateful!! I pray that my story gets out and it’s in your means to bless me with help to go to therapy more often. I will be moving back to Chicago from staying with my mom in Atlanta for a couple months. I was attending @nextstepatlanta paralysis recovery. In Chicago I’ll be attending @nextstepschicago for further therapy! I dream to be in a position to work with @neurofit360 as well! I have made my own go fund me account but I can be reached by my personal page inbox if needed @beautiful_nadie. Thank you for reading my story and I’m praying you can help!!