Sometimes everything changes in an instant.
Houston police officer Jason Roy woke up the morning of May 3, 2011 not knowing what the day would bring. One shift…one traffic stop…one second led to the longest journey of his life.
“I put the car in park and I was going to walk out to the car. The guy took off, I got back into the police car.” Even though he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt all day prior to the stop, at the point right before Roy began to pursue, he says something told him to put on his belt. “Boom. So we’re chasing. Not fifteen seconds later we were rolling over before we came to rest in that ditch.”
Photos from that day show a severely mangled cruiser. The roof had caved inward and the front hood crumpled like an accordion. Roy says he was conscious the whole time, slouched over the driver’s side window. “The car door was on my neck and I was leaning outside the door. The seatbelt was the only thing that kept me in the car. My partner in the car… had a scratch on his arm and that was it.” It turned out Roy’s injuries were much more severe.
At the hospital, x-rays showed he had broken multiple vertebrae and suffered a stroke. “They were very worried about me surviving through the night, let alone ever being able to walk again,” Roy remembers. “Initially I was diagnosed as a quadriplegic.” Doctors classified him as “Asia A” which means complete paralyzation with no movement in the upper or lower extremities.
It was a tough year. Following his release from the hospital Roy said he had to “deal with life,” meaning depression, suicide, adjusting to his spinal cord injury. He came home, too, to his seven-month-old son. Everything took some adjusting.
Between 2011 and 2013 Roy continued forward, despite severe challenges. Doctors’ appointments, assistance from family and friends become a way of life. Rehab become (and still is) a new job, his routine. Despite the severity of his injuries, as time went on doctors and family were surprised with Roy’s progress. He somehow managed to reach milestones after milestone. He vowed to walk out of the hospital on his own—and then he did.
Three and a half years later Roy still goes to therapy. Though now he has more on his plate. Last year he finished writing his first book, “From Zero to a Hundred: Finding My Purpose through My Pain” and founded the Zero 2 a Hundred Foundation. When he was in the hospital, over the course of lots of rehabilitation, Roy says he was struck by the many kids and parents who struggled to afford treatment for their brain and spinal cord injuries. He wanted to do something to help. “I made a promise to myself that if I ever was going to get up and walk again, that I was going to create something where I could give back to kids and young adults that I could relate to and that could relate to me,” he says.
According to statistics from the Boston Children’s Hospital, children account for only five percent of individuals who sustain spinal cord injuries; 60 to 75 percent of all spinal cord injuries occur in the neck area; 20 percent affect the chest or upper back; and the remaining 5 to 20 percent involve the spinal cord and lower back (((how it happens Want to: Raising awareness—kids jumping in lakes, etc.
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The new foundation aims to assist kids in the Houston area with spinal cord injuries, as medical facility costs and expenses alone are exorbitant (((mentioned stating at [tier] for just one month cost)))). The foundation is in the process of raising money with events planned for 2015, to include a 5k in February and a partnership with Project Walk. Roy says a partnership is in the works with Microsoft to give kids tablets to create apps and get paid.
“We’re reintegrating (kids) into society,” he says. “We’re letting them know hey, we haven’t forgotten about you; you can still be useful and you can still have a life after a spinal cord injury.”
The name Zero2aHundred isn’t about the latest fast car or bike. Instead, Roy says, it represents the highs and lows everybody faces in life. “The zero for me is when I was paralyzed,” he says. “See, everybody will have a zero in their life; it doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll have to be paralyzed, but everybody will suffer some type of loss…whether it’s loss of a loved one or loss of a friend, a job, depression, cancer, sickness…anything that’s happened. When I was paralyzed for me that was my zero. And I wanted to get back to 100. Physically I’m not at 100, but I’m at 100 living life to the fullest. So that’s what it means—it means being at your lowest point and wanting to get back to 100, whatever 100 is in your life.”
Roy stresses that technology affects his life (and the lives of others with brain and spinal cord injuries) in profound ways—not just in regards to prevention and treatment… but quality of life after an injury. “Before I got hurt they (at the police department) were introducing body cameras and things like that. When I was working every patrol car didn’t have video. Technology has become a valuable part of society in general, but it’s very, very valuable for kids and young adults who can’t use their arms and legs,” says Roy. Tech helps kids be more independent. He says systems like EyeGaze from LC Technologies Inc., in particular, are game changers. EyeGaze Edge is an eye-operated communication and control system that empowers people with disabilities to communicate and interact with the world. By looking at control keys or cells displayed on a screen, a user can generate speech either by typing a message or selecting pre-programmed phrases. Individuals are using Eyegaze to write books and attend school. “Tech is how we operate. It’s how we survive,” says Roy.
Although the foundation is focused on Houston right now, Roy is prepping for growth. He says the goal is to help 8-10 kids a year meet their rehab needs, whether it’s a month of inpatient care or providing a wheelchair or some type of exercise equipment for at-home rehab. Eventually he’d like to take the organization worldwide.
He envisions a school for kids with disabilities—a place where they can learn at school and then, as part of recess or physical education, receive therapy on-site.
But first the group needs the finances, the volunteers and the equipment to operate--basically things that are critical to any nonprofit. “…iPad laptops, vehicles….anything like that to go out and say hey, this is who we are and this is what we want to do,” he says.
Roy medically retired in 2012 but keeps in touch. He speaks to cadets about the dangers involved with high speed pursuits. He worked with the department to produce a video addressed importance of wearing a seatbelt. “I do know that now every time you do sit in your patrol and and you sign on they put a disclaimer saying you are required to wear your seatbelt, kind of like an acknowledgement before you can even start [the car],” says Roy. It’s a safety measure, accountability measure.
Back when he worked for the gang division Roy was in and out of the car all the time. He admits it can be tough to change old habits and says “to be honest, there were a lot of times I didn’t wear my seatbelt just because it was so uncomfortable. But they do save lives. You just never know; you could be at a stoplight, somebody T-bones you, they hit you from behind and you’re not wearing your seatbelt; you don’t know what’s going to happen.”
His message to anyone struggling, whether with injuries or finances or isolation: “Never give up, never quit.
“Being a police officer you deal with loss, you deal with a stressful job…everyone looks at the police officer as being the hero, the strong and brave person, but inside that inform is a human being.”
Now he is an author, and advocate and most of all a proud father of a spirited four-year-old boy. Roy is grateful to be where he is today, to get up and walk, and go out and try to inspire the lives of young adults. “I’m still dealing with it and I know how hard it is to just get through the day.” He credits his faith in God for helping him get through the lowest points. “I had to believe in something. I couldn’t see. I had to believe in that and that’s what got me through the suicide, the depression, the defeat, the loneliness. That’s for me and I can’t speak about it enough. You’ve got to believe in something.”
