Friends for Life

Angela Armstrong never thought the pain from the 80 fractures in her body would be any use to anyone. And Mary Jane Franck never thought there could be any teacher to help her through the agony of shattering a leg and losing half her foot.

But then they found each other.

Together, the two Ojai women have made miraculous recoveries--helping each other to journey back from that place they call “between worlds.” They share a hairdresser, an acupuncturist and the cycles of grieving and loss from their accidents. Together--and separately--they have touched and inspired many in the small Ojai community.

“In the web of life, sometimes things occur that touch the web,” Armstrong says, using a Native American metaphor to describe their horrible experiences--and recovery. “You don’t feel like it’s you personally. But everyone is touched.”

A year ago, a driver veered onto the wrong side of the road and hit 34-year-old Angela Armstrong’s car head-on. It took rescue workers half an hour to free her broken body from the wreckage of her 30-year-old Mercedes-Benz. Although 25 of her bones were broken in 80 places, the Ojai activist survived. But she lost 16 days of her life, an eye and her confidence in the process.

Four months ago, 35-year-old Mary Jane Franck turned her Yamaha 650 motorcycle in front of a car in Thousand Oaks. By the time she got to the hospital one foot was black and the toes were gone. Doctors saved her leg, but took her foot.

Today, these two friends sit on the porch in the winter sunshine--laughing and talking.

“She’s been my little angel,” says Franck affectionately, looking over her elevated leg from a wheelchair. Armstrong demures.

“She gave me a shot in the arm,” Armstrong said. “I was starting to feel discouraged. But spending time with her got me going again . . . seeing her fight, her energy.”

*

At rest in her porch chair, Armstrong has rosy cheeks, a healthy look. Her walking cane rests against her chair. There is no sign of the eight metal plates that now support the structure of the left side of her face. Only a black eye patch hints at her tragedy.

Franck too shines with ruddy good health. A new hiking boot on one foot, she looks like she could climb mountains--except for the metal contraption on her scarred right leg--which, after nine surgeries, holds her fragmented limb together with 18 metal pins.

Many in Ojai have turned out to lend a hand to these women, in a way that residents say defines their small, rural community. They held a candlelight vigil and a benefit concert to pay for Armstrong’s astronomical medical bills and round-the-clock care.

The community also rallied behind Franck. Fellow members of Ojai Presbyterian have showered her with pictures, cards and flowers. When she returned home after six weeks in traction and six surgeries, they cooked meals for her every night. They still bring her hot dinners three nights a week. Many families have taken her into their home.

But the road back is a lonely one, the women say.

*

Despite the outpouring of love and prayer--from people they know and people they don’t--both say few can understand the pain of recovery. The friendship these two share--ignited by their shared plight--has helped them both immeasurably, they say.

Armstrong was well along in her recovery when Franck had her motorcycle accident. She said she remembered seeing Franck once at a support group meeting and being impressed by her energy. Later, when she heard about Franck’s accident, friends urged Armstrong to send her a note. Their meeting would change everything.

“I was in a dark place in my recovery . . . this came at a time when I found out my eye wasn’t healing properly. I found out my ankle was frozen--and I might not get use of that joint back,” Armstrong said in her soft voice. “At first, I thought I hope I don’t get more depressed seeing someone else suffer.”

Instead, Armstrong left their first meeting infused with energy.

“I went home after that first day, and my boyfriend said, ‘What happened to you today?’ ”

For Armstrong, meeting Franck was a deep connection. It also made her feel her experience could have meaning.

“I felt like I wasn’t alone anymore. Mary Jane gave my experience a meaning--my experience could be of practical use to someone.”

For Franck too, the meeting was fortuitous, providing her with hope and inspiration.

“She was good for my mental health--for my soul,” Franck said. “She’s already walked the path.”

*

They share it all. Both have struggled with alcohol addiction in the past, and wanted to avoid pumping drugs into their body. Armstrong suggested that Franck change her medicine every few weeks to avoid getting addicted.

Both were intensely physical--Armstrong was an aerobics instructor, and Franck worked outside doing landscaping and construction. They say they share the pain of losing their physicality.

And both say they must struggle with the grieving of a loss of part of their bodies, mixed with gratitude for survival.

They endure the curious stares from people in stores. The humiliation and joy of learning to walk again in their 30s. The frustration of not being independent.

With months behind her, Armstrong passed along advice, health hints and helpful gifts.

Franck moved into a room on a farm at the same end of town as Armstrong. Several times a week Armstrong would stop by on her way home. When they talk now, they have a rhythm--interweaving and interrupting--like old friends. They say they have developed a shared language to express their pain.

Both women were uninsured at the time of their accidents. Homeless until 1993, and a recovering drug and alcohol abuser, Franck had put her life back together in Ojai, but had little cash to spare. For Armstrong, the insurance of the man who hit her recently came through.

Armstrong went to her hairstylist and her acupuncturist and told them about her friend. She asked if they would be willing to donate their services to Franck.

Veevees Krauthoff, who runs the hair salon Heaven, washed both women’s hair before they could move from their beds--driving out to their homes with special equipment so they wouldn’t have to shift their fragile, recovering bodies.

Krauthoff even invited Franck into her home for a week.

“Angela and Mary Jane kept the Christmas spirit going throughout the year,” she says. “Everyone wants to be together and share, and hold onto that energy. They are a vehicle for everyone to open up their hearts and give.”

At Armstrong’s request, Laurie Edgcomb, a licensed acupuncturist, offered her services to Franck at no charge.

*

By sticking more than a dozen hair-thin needles into the affected areas on Franck’s damaged leg, Edgcomb helps with nerve regeneration and relaxation. Franck says the treatments have stopped her “phantom pains”--a phenomenon whereby amputees feel pain in their missing limbs--and restored the color and circulation to her leg.

“Because they’ve both gone through a deep, intense experience where they lost mobility, and a body part--one lost an eye, one a foot--they can deeply connect,” Edgcomb says. “They can identify with each other’s stages of grief.”

For both, the hardest thing is not knowing if they will ever heal. But they say their experience has left them changed, with an understanding for the power of love they never knew existed.

“She’s been a godsend to me,” Franck says. “I’ve never been so loved in my entire life. I don’t have anything, and yet I’m the richest person in Ojai.”