Burn Survivor Story | Elisabeth Newman | Grossman Burn Centers

June 26, 1991

“Doctor, how is she doing?” said my mom in a panicked voice, tears streaming down her face.

“We don’t know yet. She is pretty drugged up, so you can go in and see her.” The doctor didn’t look very optimistic. My mother walked into the hospital room where I was lying with an IV stuck in my neck and a bag of blood going into my wrist.

“Hi mommy! Don’t worry; I’m going to be just fine. Why are you crying mommy?” I said with a smile on my face.

Everyone’s faces challenges in his life, whether they are great or small. These roadblocks impact that person’s life in their appearance, their circumstances, or their character. Demanding situations can either make or break a person’s character, depending on what direction they choose to follow and how they choose to deal with the difficult situation set before them.

When I was five years old, I faced the greatest challenge that I have ever faced in my life. This one incident will affect me and my family for the rest of our lives.

In June of ’91, I was burned in a hot spring in Mammoth, California, our vacation spot that summer. My family was swimming in a river, a popular tourist spot, surrounded by hot springs connected to its banks marked off by warning tape. A hot spring is a natural Jacuzzi with temperatures that vary from a comfortable 90 up to 300 degrees. As I was getting out of the river, I waded into a hot spring that was blocked off only by a strip of “Caution” tape, which had fallen into the water. Although I was only in the water for a few seconds, the water was hot enough to give me third degree burns reaching to the top of my thighs. A stranger quickly pulled me out. In retrospect, I specifically remember my dad telling me that the hot springs were dangerous and to be careful.

That was the last day I would ever look normal in a bathing suit. I have to remind myself what that was like now, to look normal. After being pulled out of the boiling water by two strangers, I was rushed to the local hospital where it was determined that I needed more serious care. I was then flown by helicopter to Grossman Burn Center in Sherman Oaks, California where I would remain in the intensive care unit for the next two months. Those months were harder for my parents than they were for me, as I was on heavy medication for the extreme pain. When I was first admitted, the doctors didn’t think I would live because of infection to my burn sites.

The result of this incident included fifteen surgeries, and a bill large enough to induce a heart attack in anyone. During these two months (the first was in intensive care), I had skin grafts taken from my back and arms and put onto my legs. Every day I spent an hour in a hyper baric chamber to increase and speed up tissue healing. I also had to endure daily “whirlpool”, which scrubbed off the dead skin from my legs so that new skin would grow and infection wouldn’t take over.

The hospital was forty-five minutes from my house, which meant one of my parents had to stay at the hospital with me every night. I can only imagine what the situation was like at home with one parent being gone, the other in a frenzy, and my brothers and sisters confused and worried.

Eventually, doctors admitted that I would live but would never be able to regain full motion in my legs and may not have any toes. I had to relearn how to walk through hours of physical therapy and stretching. During the last several weeks, I was taught how to walk again by a physical therapist. Going through this therapy is what inspired me to become a physical therapist, so that I could help others who have had a similar experience to mine and understand their pain and distress.

August 13, 1991

After eight weeks, I came home from the hospital two weeks before my sixth birthday and was miraculously able to walk into my own home with the help of a walker.

A few years later, I was out into dance classes and gymnastics classes so that my skin could stretch according to my growth rate. I also wore pressure garments for almost four years so that the scar tissue would not keloid and harden. Because I was so young, I had not yet learned how to be hurt by others’ rude remarks in regards to my scars and pressure garments. As I grew older, however, it became more and more difficult for me to ignore them. The bottom hit in seventh grade while I was at summer camp. Normally, this was the time to flirt with boys and have fun running around in a bathing suit and shorts. It was that week that I realized why boys didn’t pay as much attention to me as to my other friends. I hid in my cabin for a whole day, I remember, hating God and wondering why this had to happen to me.

In the beginning of my junior year, I needed one last surgery to remove some scar tissue that had built up around the back of my knee causing me pain. I had a Z-plasty, a fairly simple day surgery, during my Thanksgiving break thinking that I would only have to miss a few days of school. The surgery completely failed and left me needing skin graft, a much more significant surgery, after Christmas. The result was missing over a month of school. Although my teachers were gracious, it was impossible to bounce back academically after such a long absence.

This event has been a challenge to me because I have permanent scars on my legs. I’m different from my friends and family in an obvious way. People constantly stare and make strange and sometimes rude remarks. This has forced me to always be self-confident and strong. I had two options of how I could have dealt with this challenge. I could have been a pout about it, or I could have seen that bad things happen in life and that I have to move on. Obviously, I chose the latter option, and I choose to have this attitude every day.

For as long as I can remember, I have been a stubborn and frank woman and known for my strength and vivacity. Perhaps I was born that way or was made so by my accident. I wear shorts and swim suits now with full abandon, and mostly don’t even remember what it was like to look “normal”. This is my normality, this is my life, and this is what was given to me. I know that I will never be called the woman with great legs or be just an average girl, but I also know that there is so much more to life than looks and being a replica of every other female. Most importantly, I proved the doctors wrong. I have excelled in a number of sports and continue to dance as if nothing had ever happened, and of course I have toes.

I am scarred. I won’t try to sugarcoat it or to extract pity from the hearts of those who see me. I’m scarred and I will be so for the rest of my life, and I am proud of this. Of everything in my life, I am most proud of this. My physical scars inadvertently separate me from other people and will continue to draw stares and unthinkably rude questions. Despite what others consider to be a major detail, I love my life and all that has been a part of it, including my accident and its repercussions. I thank God everyday for the life that he has given me; I wouldn’t change my life or my appearance for the world.

I also have learned so much from being burned and being different from others. I have learned a lot about myself and who I want to become. This challenge is one that I will continue to face for the rest of my life.

This challenge that I faced, being burned in a hot spring, is something that I will always have to brave. Although some adversities may seem temporary, they can still have a large negative or positive impact on a person’s life. That person can choose to accept the difficulty of life with open arms and be a better person because of it, or let the tough situation win and give up when it seems impossible. I encourage everyone to face each and every challenge, great or small, with a mind to win and an attitude to succeed.

I am proud that I have overcome this adversary in my life and have not let it deter me from being as great as I can be. As the years have passed, I have become only more grateful for my legs and the fact that I am set apart. My scars have given me such great independence and personal stature. One of the biggest rewards of my life is to be able to talk to both strangers and friends who have various scars about my experience and how I choose to be free from the constraints of scrutiny from other people. I am so grateful that I’m alive and have more than full range of motion. I have learned the greatest lessons through being burned, greater lessons than anything I’ve learned in school: be yourself, love who you are (if you don’t then change), and in all situations by joyful.

No one and nothing is going to get this girl down!