Like many kids, I loved fast jets and desperately wanted to fly them. Little did I know how hard I’d have to work for it.
During high school wood shop, tragedy struck in less than a second. A grab, a jolt, then fluid; I just lost a fight with a table saw. I watched my dream of being a military pilot draining away as the blood poured down my arm. Lying in the surgery room that evening, the doctor told me I might lose three fingers. I woke up scared the next day to find my entire forearm wrapped up to the size of a boxer’s glove.