Turbulence Made Me Stronger
My name is Gabi, and I’m 21 with peripheral neuropathy caused by a surgical injury. But honestly, that’s just a footnote—let me tell you how I got here.
Eyes on the sky
Back in 2022, I was fresh out of high school, ready to take on the world. I had a supportive family, a suitcase full of dreams, and one very intense goal: to become a fighter pilot. Not a “maybe someday” dream—a real goal. When people asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I didn’t even hesitate. “Fighter pilot,” I’d say, and nine out of ten times, they’d look at me like I had just grown a second head. That didn’t faze me. If you ask my mom, she’ll tell you I’m the most hard-headed person she knows. When I decide on something, I go all in—not halfway, no plan B.
The Fall, Literally
I headed off to college, joined ROTC, got involved in clubs, made new friends, and had the time of my life that first semester. I felt like I was flying already. Then came second semester, and let’s just say the universe had other plans. I managed to fracture both of my tibias at the same time—yes, both legs. My 19-year-old world felt like it had shattered along with my bones. I was devastated, angry, confused—mostly because there was no one to blame. Not even myself. (Trust me, I tried.)
Recovery was long, slow, and full of moments where I wanted to throw in the towel. But eventually, I learned to laugh at the absurdity of it all. I mean, how many people can say they’ve broken both legs at once and still tried to walk it off?
After I healed, things should’ve gone back to normal—but my legs had other ideas. The pain came back worse this time. Tests, treatments, more tests, weird stretches, and more ice than a hockey rink, but nothing helped. Finally, after a second round of testing, I was diagnosed with Chronic Exertional Compartment Syndrome. The only real solution? Surgery.
The Summer of Scars
In the summer of 2024, I had four leg surgeries. Four. In one summer. I practically had a punch card. The first one went well—I got some cool scars, including a six-and-a-half-inch beauty down my calf. Ten days later, I went in for my left leg, and that’s when the real fun started. I started passing out from the pain—turns out there was a massive hematoma behind my knee, and let me tell you, it felt like someone was trying to saw my leg off with a butter knife. (Sorry, Mom, I know you say childbirth is worse, but I’ll have to take a raincheck on that comparison.)
A week later, I was back in the operating room because my body decided stitches were so last season and started rejecting them like expired yogurt. That gave me a nice nine-inch scar as a consolation prize.
A New Kind of Pain
Five months post-op, I realized something was off. I couldn’t feel most of my legs. Not in the “wow this ice is cold” way—in the “am I touching my leg or the couch?” way. Then came the burning, stabbing, tingling pain that woke me up at night and reduced me to tears. After visiting specialist after specialist, I was finally diagnosed with peripheral neuropathy caused by surgical nerve damage.
And that, my friends, should’ve been the moment I gave up. But I didn’t. Because I’m still that hard-headed girl with a dream.
The Dream Evolves
Yes, I had to say goodbye to my goal of flying fighter jets. I was medically disqualified from military aviation, and that hurt more than all the surgeries combined. But dreams don’t die—they evolve. And mine became something just as thrilling. I want to be an agricultural pilot. A crop duster. I want to fly just a yard above the fields, my heart pounding, my adrenaline rushing, wind roaring. This summer [2025], I get my first shot at it. I’ll be working alongside an agricultural pilot, learning everything I can. Legs or no legs, pain or not, I’m getting in that cockpit.
Rewritten, Not Over
I’m not telling this story for pity. I’m telling it for anyone who feels like the world flipped their life upside down and then gave it a good shake for fun. You can be mad. You can cry. You can even cuss out the ceiling fan (I did). But don’t give up. Your story’s not over. It’s just being rewritten. And if you ever feel like giving up, just remember: Some girl out there broke both her legs at once and still learned how to fly.
