Barbara Ramsay was on her way home from a graduation party when the accident happened. Before then, her life had been relatively normal- she grew up in Boston, with a heavy accent and a big attitude to match. Her parents were kind, her father a policeman and her mother a stay at home Mom. She had a brother in the army and she had a dog, and she'd known since birth that she wanted to be a librarian. She had a degree in English and acceptance to three of the best grad programs in the North East. Before the car accident, Babs Ramsay was very, very normal.
Not to say that she wasn't vibrant- because she always had been. With a shock of red hair, hazel eyes, and a touch disposition since the moment she was born, Babs had the tendency to stand out in a crowd. Still, spelling bees wins and class president and tons of MySpace friends did not a wild life make, and everything Babs did was pretty on par with what the rest of the kids her age were doing- getting drunk on prom night and then crying when her boyfriend dumped her, hating her college roommate, learning French but wishing she learned Spanish. Normal.
However, that all changed very quickly when she woke up one day in a hospital bed and found that her legs just didn't work any more. This was a peculiar place to be- to know that her limbs were there, that she could see them, but it was like they were no longer a part of her. She needed surgery, they said. Then her muscles would be in atrophy from lack of use, and she'd need physical therapy. After they fixed the spinal injury, it didn't mean she'd be walking again. They couldn't promise that.
So Babs started to prepare herself for a life in a wheelchair. She figured there was no use in getting her hopes up, so she just didn't. Usually a very positive person, though maybe a little too realistic, Babs found herself, fo the first time in her life, thinking that no good would come of anything at all. Her friends smacked stickers on her wheelchair, rolled her in and out of nice restaurants, did her hair and helped her into nice dresses. "Life isn't over," they said, but they didn't really know what they were talking about.
Despite all that, despite all the bad thoughts and the negative vibes, one day Babs woke up and her legs worked again. Well, it wasn't that simple- after years of surgery and therapy, one day, it just wasn't a problem any more. After years of grueling work and a lot of perserverance she didn't really have faith in, she woke up one day and none of it mattered any more. Which was great- really, it was fucking great. But how do you move on with your life when you had started to plan that you would never live it?
First, Babs went back to school. This was a solid decision, because grad school started to eat up all of her time. It was hard to think about things when she had to memorize so many inane things she thought she'd never actually use in real life. She wandered around with a cane, made jokes about Doctor House, and kept a wheelchair in her bedroom- you know, just in case.
Slowly, a new Babs emerged- an amalgation of the Babs before the accident and the Babs after. Still sharp witted, still too realistic for her own good, still very lucky and very affectionate, but suddenly more aware. Suddenly, and sadly, more fearful. The first trip into a car after the accident sent her into a full-fledged panic attack, and night after night she woke up from dreams of sirens and broken glass and blood.
But if she'd learned anything in all that doom and gloom, she'd learned you had to face things head on. That you couldn't spend your whole life waiting for the car to hit you before you decided to start moving.