Today, I questioned my life.

Is this it?

It's been a little over a year since the car crash that landed me in a NJ ER. My first serious car accident.

It's been a while since I've publicly posted. So I wanted my first post back in years to be all triumphant, like a great comeback. I mean, it wasn't that long ago I was staring at the ceiling of a hospital in Cincinnati, Ohio wondering what had come of my life.

Since then, I had finally fulfilled a lifelong dream of moving to NYC, with a new job I love surrounded by amazing, talented colleagues and leaders I could envision a future with.

Everything was finally falling into place,

but here we were again.

Just 2 months into my new life in NYC, driving alone on the NJ highway when traffic came to a complete stop. Impact. 60 Mph from behind by a distracted uninsured driver, slamming me into the car ahead, a family vehicle. Three cars involved. Two totaled. The family and I were sent to the ER.

This incident led to a second ER, 93 separate appointments with 22 different doctors at 13 different hospitals/locations including 4 brain/neck/spine MRI/MRA’s, 7 different medications, 2 surgeries, 3 epidural steroid injections. 68 physical therapy appointments between 2 locations. 12 acupuncture/chiropractor appointments.

Over $186,000 of medical bills, a failed lawsuit, and a separation from my company.

Funnily enough, that night I laid in the hospital, I felt the neck brace and IV placed into my arm were an overreaction.

Maybe, because this time, I still held a bright optimism for the life I had ahead of me.

It reminded me of the last time I had been in a hospital.

Bright.

The room harshly lit with a slight blueish tint that never fully lit the corners.

Getting rolled around loosely covered by a thin fabric, while I count the black-speckled rectangular tiles on the ceiling.

Deja Vu.

But this time it's just a small headache. Surely I'd be back in no time.

How naive.

2 days, and it became unbearable. An inescapable concussion migraine that flared up for hours at the glance of a screen (the very thing I was forced to rely on for support), vomiting, nosebleeds. 5 herniations in my back. I couldn't stop myself from fainting.

Then, the constant hum of NYC, to me once the sound of life itself, became a nightmarish deterrent for me to even walk outside. Birthday spent at the doctor's office. Independence day dependent on noise-canceling airpods, avoiding the very show I looked forward to. Christmas spent alone.

What was a doctor's recommendation, became an order.

1 week, 2 weeks, 3 weeks, 5 weeks, 8 weeks, 4 months, 1 year one foot in, one foot out of the job I had so looked forward to.

Even from the beginning, I thought it’d be over just next week. Just next week. Just one more damn week. But as reality set in, I hate to admit that that optimism slowly faded away.

I became bitter.

Why God?

Why me?

Was this some kind of cruel joke?

Moving into NYC, I adamantly declared I'd be grateful for any problems faced. Now it felt that my career, the relationships I was forming, the new life I was starting, had all collapsed overnight.

I already experienced the grief of losing someone I loved.

And so finally, the depression set in.

I wept many nights.

Life moves on, with or without you.

I used to hate the phrase, “nobody cares”, but stuck in a room, watching the world blur outside my window, from the highs of achieving my dreams, I fell back down to earth and was forced to face a stark reality.

My distress didn't stop a single subway, a single meeting, or a single plan. Everyone is busy with their own lives. Everyone has their own problems. Many worse than mine. This wasn't cynicism. It was a freeing, humbling reality.

“The world keeps spinning”

And the world kept spinning it did.

Slowly, I watched the seasons cycle. Walking down the streets of NYC, with an invisible injury, surrounded by more people than I'd ever seen in my life, I had never felt more alone.

Sometimes I cried.

And sometimes the rain covered for me,

cleaning the streets whilst leaving behind an indelible scent of petrichor. And as I started to go on long walks again, the noise of NYC that irritated my ears for so long slowly transformed back into the hum of life I always dreamed it to be.

I saw change.

My distress didn’t stop a single subway, a single celebration, or a single marriage. Romance blossoming, proposals popping, the nervousness of first dates, dreams being chased.

This is NYC.

And so I finally surrendered myself to feel how I feel.

Finally, acceptance.

What's to make of all this?

I’m not so sure, my story isn't over just yet, but suddenly, the world looks a little different.

I still don't have the triumphant comeback I wanted.

So this is my public declaration.

To those who know me, knew me, or don’t.

I won’t take a single moment for granted.

Sincerely,
Kyu-Hun Lee

To all individuals who rooted for me throughout this time, thank you.
And to anyone who read this far, thank you too.