Surviving a head-on collision offers Fairfield woman second chance at life 

The results of head-on motor-vehicle collisions are often catastrophic, yet surviving such a traumatic event has prompted one woman’s profound transformation and appreciation for second chances. 

In June of 2022, Suzanne “Super Suz” Seymour was driving along route 116 in Hinesburg, when a large pick-up truck with a fully loaded trailer came around a blind corner – in her lane.  

“There was no time to think, no time to do much of anything. My only thought was, ‘Is this it? Is this the moment of my death? We all wonder about the moment of our death,” says Seymour, “I definitely thought this might be my time of reckoning.” 

As the two vehicles collided, Seymour says she clasped the steering wheel and somehow veered enough to spin out, hitting a tree. 

“I remember the impact – then pain, darkness, and quiet,” Seymour recalls. She then heard a woman’s voice, whom she now refers to as ‘the Angel,’ saying, ‘you’re going to be okay – but don’t move.’” 

In that moment, she remembers thinking, “Oh my God, I survived?” 

What Seymour had in fact survived was a combination of serious injuries. The impact had fractured her right femur, which was protruding from the skin. The tibia was fractured, as well as her wrist and nine ribs, all on the right side of her body. She had sustained a frontal lobe contusion, other superficial wounds, and some internal damage to her abdomen.  

“In a kind of comedy of errors, the ambulance went to the wrong location, so it was even later before I got to the hospital,” she says. 

Arriving at UVMMC, Seymour immediately underwent a blood transfusion and was placed in critical care. 

“I stayed in the ICU for five days. My first surgery was the next morning, in which they managed to put the femur back inside.” 

Surgery to repair Seymour’s femur was completed with open reduction and internal fixation (ORIF), to realign and reconnect the fractured bones. Seymour’s ORIF involved positioning hardware to ensure proper healing, especially as the lower leg bone was shattered at the knee, known as a tibial plateau fracture. 

“My tibia plate was also crushed so they had to re-sculpt that back with cadaver bone,” Seymour says, about the flat area of the tibia that her thigh bone rests on.  

“I was then set up with what I called the birdcage, a metal rod screwed into my leg for bone placement and holding. And then had a second surgery a few days later, where they inserted two plates and many screws into my leg to keep it stable and assist with healing and stability.” 

With her right forearm also in a cast, Seymour’s mobility was null, so a hoist was used to maneuver her in the bed. 

“I had a lot of problems at the beginning. I could not sit up on my own, could not turn, I had a lot of difficulties, even eating,” she says. “Everything hurt – I was quite a sight.” 

Once released back to her home in Fairfield, Seymour received daily support from friends, family, and practitioners. “Home Health came to my house a few times a week, occupational therapy once a week, physical therapy twice a week. They were very good at helping me begin the long, hard journey toward healing,” she says. 

As a lifelong student -and practitioner of massage therapy, Seymour quickly recognized how debilitating the intense pain and lack of movement had become. As the Proprietor of Planet Massage in Colchester Seymour has served clients for decades under the mantra of ‘Changing the World, One Body at a Time,’ emphasizing the importance of massage as prevention rather than just treatment. 

“Avid massage helps blood flow, helps the muscles, skin and nerves all to stay pliable, strong and healthy,” says Seymour, who recalls such hypersensitivity that she could not even be touched on the leg without extreme pain. 

Needing to desensitize her nerves, the occupational therapist gave her a kit of delicate items: a feather, piece of foam and a cotton ball, to touch her skin with. That same weekend, Seymour says, a friend came by with a tuning fork and placed the vibrating metal onto her limbs. 

“It was the first thing that felt good,” she recalls. Practicing with the tuning fork over the weekend, she says, she was finally able to withstand touch. 

As Seymour’s bones were set on the path toward recovery, she was referred to begin rehabilitative physical therapy at NMC. 

Long Road Ahead 

“Movement equals function,” says Laurie Austin, PT, who directed Seymour during her year of land rehabilitation at Cobblestone. “Getting the patient moving quickly is imperative to minimize loss of joint mobility and muscle wasting after such an incident as Suzanne’s.” 

Seymour began her journey with Aqua Therapy at Branon’s Pools in August of 2022, under the guidance of Katie Guerino, PT. Aquatic therapy provides an environment for gravity-lessened movement for individuals with too much pain or physical restriction to move against gravity. 

“It was the most amazing day for me, feeling almost like my old self. Because once I got in the water, all of the pain of being on land with gravity dissipated,” Seymour recalls. 

“The hydrostatic pressure of water when a limb is submerged applies compression to the tissues which increases blood flow and lymphatic drainage; pushing excess fluid out of the swollen area  and can be very effective in reducing edema,” Austin explains, adding that a patient’s reduced gravity in the water can also lessen their fear of movement, providing an environment that instills confidence in their ability to move. 

“Once that confidence is there and once the patient is moving freely in the water and able to progress, the therapist at the pool then transitions them to a land-based environment which is what is necessary for normal function.” 

Towards the end of 2022, Seymour began land therapy at Cobblestone to tackle her greatest challenge, which was walking, according to Austin. 

“Initially her right knee and hip strength were not adequate to support her body weight. As she said, ‘I am learning to walk all over again,’ which can be very frustrating for the adult population given this is something we do every day without thinking about it.” 

Seymour wore a Superman t-shirt into Cobblestone one day and says that Austin started calling her Super Suz, “And, wouldn’t you know it, the name stuck,” she says. 

“We had been working together for a few months and I coined her nickname as I felt it was a testament of who she is as a person – so committed to her personal investment. She had her ups and downs during her rehab, but I was inspired by her ability to rise-up from adversity, her near death experience,” says Austin.  

“Laurie was always encouraging me to believe in myself, not to let anything stop me, and I could achieve great things. She’s the best physical therapist I’ve ever worked with,” says Seymour. 

“She took the encouragement I offered and built on it,” Austin adds. “She dedicated many out-of-clinic hours to her rehab to meet her goals. I admire her for her dedication as if not for this, her outcome would have been, I feel, much different.”  

Another memorable moment for both the patient and therapist was when Seymour took her first steps, facing herself in the mirror. 

“Her greatest triumph was taking her first steps without an assistive device in the parallel bars. It was affirmation that her hard work had yielded a limb that supported her weight enough to take a step on her own. We both yelled out in excitement,” Austin remembers. 

“I cried the first time I actually looked at myself in the mirror and saw something – somebody I didn’t recognize: an older woman with huge scars, barely able to stand upright with the help of the parallel bars, who looked defeated,” Seymour recalls.  

“Patients always remember how they used to look or what they used to be able to do. Many people are in denial for a longtime and they report performance that is not in line with what is observed in the clinic,” Austin says. 

“The point where a patient is fully in the moment and the realization of where they are in their recovery can be very emotional and can be a triumph in itself,” says Austin, recognizing her own emotion in those moments, too. 

 Although her prescribed therapy ended this past spring, Seymour continued to utilize the open gym at Cobblestone and purchased a membership at Branon’s Pools.  

“I continue to swim, anywhere from four to six times a week. It’s one of the few places where I am free, with flexibility,” says Seymour. 

“I am still dealing with the aftermath of being in a wheelchair for four months. The atrophy completely took me by surprise. I had no idea, even as a muscular therapist, that the rate of atrophy would be so severe and so debilitating in just a few months,” she says. “It has taken me over two years to regain my strength, my walking gait, and my ability to stand upright with no canes, walking staffs, or walkers.” 

Seymour says that this experience has changed her, for the better. “People say I’m a different person, and I am. I lived the disabled life for two years and I saw and experienced things that make me totally understand why people give up.” 

Many people were kind, generous and very patient with her, she says, while others made her feel invisible or non-existent. 

“Do your best to give human dignity to those of us in this injured state; a smile or a hug, can go a long way in helping people find their way back to good health. Truly, that is neighbor helping neighbor. Your kindness can make all the difference,” Seymour says. 

“Each and every one of us as human beings deserve to be whole. This I mean in both the physical and mental sense,” says Austin. 

“Suzanne is someone I will never forget. She is an inspiring, wonderful human being. She came to me a broken, fragile bird that in the end, left with wings spread. To me personally, she validated my profession and helped solidify in my own mind, the reason I chose PT as my profession – to help others blossom and flourish both from their inner self and in their environment.” 

Seymour hopes to spread inspiration through her story and wants to bring joy and laughter to others during their pain. She discovered the value of joy for herself through Karaoke and says she began utilizing it as a form of weekly therapy. 

“Karaoke was the impetus for getting my leg-brain connection working again,” says Seymour. “The tapping of my foot along with the beat of the music allowed for a reconnection to occur.” 

The unexpected gift during Karaoke, she says, was by being short-winded after a song or two made her realize that her diaphragm was atrophied and needed to be worked.  

“My core was destroyed, decimated beyond just the abdominals,” she says. “There’s harmony and balance in the voice. Our voice is our instrument, and we should all be practicing our human instruments.” 

Seymour says she is continuing to figure out what life with an injury looks like one day at a time. “It’s been very humbling, but I’m standing on top of my own legs,” she says, “rather than walking incorrectly and doing more damage to myself.” 

Second Chances 

“Suz had said to me that she felt she had a second chance in life, coming to near death in her accident. She took that chance and turned the daunting task of recovery over months of hard work into her reality,” says Austin.  

“It’s very hard to imagine being in so much pain. No one would choose to have that be the path that their life descends into: the darkness, the long road, the difficulty,” says Seymour. 

“I never gave up believing I would walk again, that I would be able to do everything I had ever done before. No one can do this work for you – you must find the strength from inside to do it yourself. You must have the desire to live.” 

“Life is delicate,” she says, “and every day that we wake up is a second chance.” 

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Story & Photos: Sarah Parsons West 

For Northwestern Medical Center