For Quadriplegic Accident Victim, New Son Spurs Rebirth of Hope

Joe Drohn’s death wish went away at 10:42 p.m. on Nov. 4.

At that moment, months of self-pity gave way as Drohn watched from his wheelchair as his third son was born. As a nurse in the delivery room at La Palma Intercommunity Hospital arranged Drohn’s arms so he could cradle the infant, he forgot the hours he had spent weighing death versus life as a quadriplegic.

Drohn said the birth of Michael Anthony was a lift to a life he believed was not worth saving after a swimming pool accident on June 2, three months after the baby was conceived.

Longing for a Way Out

Going from able-bodied to 90% paralyzed in one snap of the neck left Drohn longing for a way out.

“I just wanted to see my family one more time, and then, boom, die,” he remembers thinking as paramedics wheeled him into an Orange County trauma center after the accident.

For weeks, he angrily resented the physicians who kept him awake--and alive.

And on Thursday, Drohn toasted those who saved him as he celebrated Thanksgiving with his wife, Jennifer, 21, and three sons at the La Palma hospital, where he has been since late June.

Michael’s birth, he said, has given the couple hope that somehow things will work out.

“(Michael) was an important part of bringing me out,” said Drohn, 23, a former construction worker who specialized in operating heavy equipment and mine blasting. “It was like my heart was dead. You can ask any quad--when the accident happens, you give up.”

Not any more. The couple are making plans. By Christmas, Drohn may be able to go home to their La Palma apartment. Next spring, Drohn wants to move east for more therapy at the University of Michigan. Eventually he hopes to enroll in law school and become an attorney to fight for the rights of the handicapped. “I don’t have much these days,” he said, “but I’ve still got my mouth.”

While doctors and therapists say Drohn’s spirit is alive again, a host of hurdles remain, not the least of which is money.

Family Income Stopped

The couple face paying Drohn’s mounting medical bills while raising three boys--the oldest is only 2 1/2--with no steady income. Drohn was the family breadwinner, and since the accident his wife has been too busy caring for the boys and visiting the hospital to work. A family attorney says Drohn’s surgeries, hospital stay and rehabilitation have cost more than $200,000 so far. For now, the couple, who married three years ago, are living on savings and help from family members.

Some relief may come from a suit the couple will file in connection with Drohn’s accident, said lawyer Gordon Phillips, who represents them.

Phillips said Drohn was injured at a Santa Ana home when he was knocked from the diving board and hit the bottom of a pool, snapping his neck and dislocating his spine. The pool, the attorney said, was only six feet deep, too shallow for a diving board. Local and state building standards require that a pool with a diving board be at least eight feet deep.

But even if the Drohns win the case, Phillips said it could be years before they receive any money.

“The average life span of a civil case in Orange County is three years--and then there is the whole appeal process,” Phillips said. “In the meantime, what happens to people like the Drohns? They must somehow survive. Is that justice?”

Fairness is something Drohn said he has pondered often in recent months.

A big man at 6-foot-4, Drohn always has excelled--in athletics and the work place--because of his physical attributes, acquaintances say. At the time of the accident, he weighed 250 pounds. He had biceps the size of fence posts. He began playing football at age 5, and by the time he graduated from high school he was an all-star, headed to Michigan State on a scholarship.

Obvious Love of Sports

His love of sports was evident during a recent hospital interview. Drohn was wearing high-top basketball shoes, sweats and a football jersey.

While his size helped earn glory on the gridiron, his build earned Drohn a living in construction. He said he thrived on the life style--hard labor, a steady tan and good money. Drohn even survived a string of job-site accidents, including one in which a bulldozer rolled over and crushed his face, requiring months of reconstructive surgery.

Now his body, once the source of so much pride, has become a source of frustration, particularly when he is in public and people stare as he operates his motorized wheelchair.

On a recent trip with his wife to the Los Cerritos Mall in Cerritos, Drohn stopped and talked with a young boy with multiple sclerosis who also was in a wheelchair.

“We were in a record store, and I couldn’t stop looking at him,” said Drohn, who lost nearly 100 pounds after the accident but now has his weight back to about 190. “What hurt the most was seeing his chair. I realized that’s how I looked--weak and dependent.

First Time to Be Scared

“I’m scared to leave this hospital and face the outside world. And never, never in my whole life have I been scared. I’ve never been dependent on anyone.”

Much of the load will fall on Drohn’s wife, a quiet woman, who doctors said has displayed remarkable resilience. Her brother moved in soon after the accident to help with the housework and the boys, freeing her to spend time at the hospital, learning how to care for Joe.

“It’s been a big change,” she said. “There’s so much to learn, like bathing and changing him. I’m not nervous. I can’t afford to be. We must simply go from here.”

Despite his limited movement, doctors say Drohn is lucky.

Fred Nowroozi, a specialist in physical medicine and rehabilitation, said that if Drohn’s spine had been broken a bit higher he might have been killed or ended up on a respirator permanently.

Lever Controls Chair

Because Drohn can move his shoulders, he is able to maneuver his 233-pound wheelchair by pushing a large lever attached to a belt around his waist. By rotating his shoulders, he can swing his arms into the switch, which moves the chair forward and backward as well as controls the angle of the seat. Through hours of therapy, Drohn also has learned to partially feed himself and sit upright on the floor for short periods.

But it is the simple things, like rubbing his eyes or combing his hair, that Drohn misses most.

“When my oldest son picks up a ball and wants to play catch, I can’t be there for him,” said Drohn, who was living in Las Vegas but looking for work in Southern California at the time of the accident. Soon after, Drohn’s wife moved to La Palma. “We take so much for granted. Then when it’s gone. . . .”

Nowroozi, who works with Drohn daily, said there is little chance that Drohn will ever regain much use of his lower body. Nonetheless, the doctor said, Drohn can play an active role in raising his children because he still has his mind and some movement. He already has learned how to hold the couple’s newborn, and in time may be able to help feed little Michael Anthony.

He Coached With Voice

During the birth, Drohn coached his wife through labor just as he did during the delivery of the couple’s first two children.

At first, Drohn scoffed at the idea of being present during Michael’s birth. But his wife insisted he be there, and when the hospital was willing to help him, he agreed. Unlike other men who participate in the birth process, Drohn could only deliver comfort through his voice.

“Because he couldn’t use his hands, he had to work extra hard to soothe her with words,” said Karen Wielinga, the chief nurse in obstetrics at La Palma who assisted in the birth. “Joe was excellent. As soon as the boy arrived, he asked if he had all of his fingers and toes. Then he just smiled.”

Said Drohn of the experience:

“It was something. The baby hadn’t even been in the warmer and I’m holding him, looking at those big hands and feet. I don’t know what’s going to happen down the road, but I’m going to make damn sure I’m around to see that little guy grow up.”