'I'm learning to live'

COEUR d’ALENE — Thursday was a good day for Tricia McCullough. She received injections for pain.

“It’s a new thing I’m trying,” she said. “Hopefully, it helps.”

The 24-year-old deals with a lot of muscle pain and a lot of headaches since the accident that paralyzed her nearly two years ago.

Today, she lives in Coeur d’Alene, assisted by family and friends, and waits for admission to Craig Hospital, a neurorehabilitation and research hospital in Englewood, Colo.

A typical day can involve doctor’s appointments and massage therapies. She works on things at home, reads, watches movies and plays with her dog, Piper.

The 2-year-old miniature Australian shepherd was with McCullough when the crash happened and remains her rock.

“I wouldn’t be able to not have her with me,” McCullough said.

She looked into having Piper trained to be an official service dog, but it would be expensive and require more than half a year apart.

That’s something McCullough could not commit to doing.

“I don’t want to go seven months without her,” she said.

McCullough grew up in Coeur d’Alene. She was studying nursing at Carroll College in Helena, Mont., and was set to graduate with a four-year degree when she left her parents’ home after a 2021 Christmas visit. She was about 30 miles east of Missoula on Interstate 90 in a 2004 Dodge Ram when she hit black ice and lost control.

The truck crashed into a guardrail and overturned. McCullough was trapped, upside down, for about an hour before being rescued and airlifted to Providence St. Patrick Hospital in Missoula.

Beloved Piper, although secured in a harness, was thrown from the truck and fled.

Her skittish companion was missing for two 4-degree nights and was the subject of a search that included a foot pursuit up a mountain before being found with the help of a K-9 rescue group and reunited with Tricia.

Dave McCullough, Tricia's father, said she suffered a broken neck, a broken arm and was tragically paralyzed.

Hope remains for a full recovery, and the family continues to pray.

"There's a lot of new protocol out there," Dave previously told The Press. "They're getting people to walk again."

Physical progress has been slow for McCullough, if it is happening at all.

She can move her shoulders and arms, somewhat, and turn her head. But she can’t use her hands and does not have movement from the chest down.

She readily admits she has struggled to stay positive, to have faith.

“I’m not doing well on that front, at all,” she said. “I just kind of do what I have to do so far, for now, I guess.”

Hope to one day walk or run again, water ski or go for a bike ride, to return to the active life she knew, is fading.

The lack of improvement in movement is discouraging.

“I am pretty certain of the fact that I won't get any more returns,” she said.

So she is doing her best to come to terms with life as it is today.

“I’m learning to live and learning to manage living how I am now,” she said.

Since the crash, people have sent her information on various treatments, some experimental. They share research they have found on recovery from injuries such as hers.

It's nice but doesn't lift McCullough's spirits.

“I don’t have a lot of hope on that front,” she said.

She said there are illnesses, such as cancer, that command the most attention of researchers and the most money from donors.

"They would rather figure out how to cure cancer rather than how to cure paralysis," she said.

When she was initially injured, she received letters and pictures from strangers sharing stories they hoped she might find encouraging. Others sent donations with uplifting messages.

“That was really nice to read through those,” she said. “It’s nice to hear about people caring."

Accessibility, or lack thereof, has become a huge issue. She often comes up against obstacles in public and has no way to move them or go around them.

"It’s something I’ve never thought about before, but I run into this all the time,” she said.

For instance, if a hairdresser is on the second floor and there’s no elevator, she can’t get there. Or if there isn’t space to use the side ramp for her van, it keeps her from coming or going.

People are helpful when she is out and about. A visit to the farmers market, for instance, usually results in encounters with encouragers and well-wishers.

“It's a matter of being more aware of people that aren’t you,” she said.

McCullough is determined to return to Carroll College and finish her nursing degree. She had just one semester left when the crash happened.

A career in health care is still a goal.

"It's been so long," she said. “I’m not really willing to go back and restart a whole bachelor’s degree. I don't want to just throw it all away.”

She's been searching online for places to live in Helena, but no luck, yet.

"I'll keep looking," she said.

In late August, she finally received her customized wheelchair that helps with independence and convenience.

“It normally takes two months,” she said. “It’s taken a year and a half to get mine.”

It has a wider range of motions than the loaner wheelchair and is quieter, smoother and narrower, allowing for easier navigation. It can tilt and elevate, has improved suspension and includes protective padding for her legs and guardrails that help her body and arms maintain position.

Touchscreen buttons make it simpler to control and headlights show the way on evening walks with Piper.

“It’s a prettier color, so that’s always good,” she said, laughing.

There are new interests.

She connected with a crochet group that meets at the Hayden Library and is trying to figure out how to crochet without being able to use her hands.

“It would be great if I could do that,” she said.

McCullough is also looking into adaptive snow skiing — which allows people with disabilities to ski - and returning to the slopes come winter.

And the deep blue still calls.

Before the accident, she spent summers swimming, skiing, tubing, rafting and reading by a lake or river.

She would like to be able to take a dip into one of North Idaho’s lakes and is hoping to find a place with a lift that would allow her to do that off a dock or boat.

"I love the water," she said.