Some would judge me for the things I did. I know I didn’t always do the right thing, but you have to understand it all started with an accident. My therapist thinks it would be good for me to write the whole story, but before you judge me, consider the circumstances, what would you havedone?

I’ve had a few names in my life, it doesn’t matter what my name is now but then it was Kristen. I am sitting at a plain old wooden desk with a pen and composition notebook. No computer, internet access is closely monitored. My story begins with Darren. He was my first love. I think you always have a sweet spot for your first love. Darren was and always will be special to me, even after all thathappened.

I was a 27-year-old Firefighter Paramedic for Deerfield Beach Fire Rescue when we met, and it was magical. I had been working there for about 7 years and had already made Lieutenant. I was also an instructor for the new recruits still on probation. I was only 20 years old when I got hired on, the youngest ever to make probation and one of only about eight women in the department. My adopted mother Tricia was so proud ofthat.

She was in a wheelchair the day of my swearing-in ceremony. As I got down on one knee in front of her in my sparkly new uniform she tutted me away and slowly stood up. She had a headscarf covering her patchy bald scalp—she refused to wear a wig. She was so stubborn and so proud and just so lovely in her own Captain uniform from Waleska Fire Rescue. Even as her jacket slid from her slight shoulders, her face shone with pride. We both shook as she struggled to pin the badge We were alone in a room full of strangers and we tried so hard to keep our eyes from leaking. Tricia fostered me when I was 13 and a year later she adopted me and we moved away from Roswell to Waleska. Tricia had been offered a promotion to Captain to make the move. She said it was a fresh start for all of us. Tricia was the only mother I had everknown.

That day as she hugged me fiercely, she whispered, “I love you so much it hurts. You have NO limitations my little hummingbird.” That’s what she used to call me when she first brought me home. I would flutter from room to room, never resting for more than a second. She could see my heart racing and I always seemed to be preparing for flight. When I was a teenager and she called me a hummingbird I would laugh and say, “I’m not that pretty, more like afirefly!”

That day at the swearing in ceremony, as I sto