Oh, no, not another T-shirt company! (eyes rolling)

I get it. The internet is flooded with so many creative people pushing T-shirts, hoping to make thousands in passive income. I would absolutely love that, but I am pushing more of a story with an inspirational message than encouraging everyone to clutter their closets with another article of clothing (although my shit is pretty cool!)

MY STORY:

On December 20, 2019, my life was suddenly altered forever. After spending an amazing day goofing off and last minute Christmas shopping with my childhood bestie, I was on my way home when I was hit head-on by a drunk driver. The impact was so sudden and hard that my Hyundai was launched on top of a guardrail, teetering ass-end first over a 60-foot embankment. It took the rescue crew over an hour to extract me from the crumpled mess because they had to hook it to a wench so they could use the jaws of life to yank my door open and pry the whole dashboard out of my crushed legs.

Just let that sit for a moment (I had to after typing that last sentence): I sat in the freezing cold for over an hour with the dashboard embedded in my legs and I was conscience the whole time. No drugs to kill the pain, just the comfort of the EMT’s who hustled their assess off to get me out safely and alive!

There definitely was a moment when I realized that I could die. I didn’t know for sure if there was any internal organ damage, or that I might bleed out from a severed femoral artery after the dash was lifted. I do remember saying to the EMT, a sweet young girl who was sitting in the back seat to help keep me calm (which, oddly, I was), that I could not die because I cannot leave my sister. Unfortunately, my brother died in a car accident when he was 29 years old, and my parents died fairly young, and now it’s only her and I left. I did not want to abandon her.

Obviously, I survived the extraction. By that time, my whole body began to shake uncontrollably from shock, blood loss, and adrenaline depletion. The tremors were like giant earthquakes coursing through my limbs, not like the tiny shivers you get from feeling cold. Someone was asking me if I knew the Lord’s Prayer, which I do, but couldn’t get the words out. Part of me did not want to say it because it felt so final, like I was making peace with meeting my Maker, and I wasn’t ready for that.

I remember the sharp, angry squealing of metal as they pried the door open and the dashboard off my legs, lifting me as quickly as possible onto a stretcher. The pain was indescribable as my legs flopped helplessly like broken twigs. I was loaded into an ambulance that transported me to the Medi-vac helicopter that landed somewhere down the road. As soon as I was settled in and ready to fly to Morristown Hospital, I was finally given the good stuff to kill the pain, and I mean it was good stuff!

Not only did I suffer from compound fractures of both femurs, my left forearm was broken, as was my right foot and ankle, a few ribs, and a mild concussion. Considering the force force of the impact, I was damn lucky that’s all that happened! The doctors said I would most likely be in the hospital for 4 months (I was out in 2), and I would need an assistive device to help me walk for the rest of my life (I was back to running by August the same year). I had it in my head that there was absolutely no way I was giving up my business as a full-time massage therapist to possibly be forced to work behind a desk for someone else for the rest of my life. Once I made a solid, without-a-doubt decision that I was going to get back to as normal possible, all feelings of doubt and anxiety was replaced with a profound sense of peace.

Believe it or not, I had some good times in the hospital. I am still blown away by the outpouring of love and support from family, friends, acquaintances, even people I didn’t really know! On Christmas Day, my fiancé, sister and her family bought Christmas to my room, determined to make the best of the holiday for all of us- especially since I was scheduled for surgery the next morning. I was surrounded by gifts, love and laughter as I tried to stay awake through my painkiller-induced haze. I realized how much my fiancé (Steve) really loved me after sleeping on the cold, hard floor next to my bed, as well as not even flinching after seeing me in a diaper and still thinking I’m “sexy”, haha! He regularly bought nutritious food from my favorite local take-out from Spoonful, in Milford, PA (Lord knows hospital food is not made to support sustenance and healing!)

My sister came as often as possible, also armed with nutritious food. Her and my niece also gave me a mani-pedi, tried washing my hair with rinse-less shampoo provided by the hospital, and wielded tweezers to tame the unwanted visitors on my face. They helped me feel less “icky” since I hadn’t been able to properly bathe or groom for weeks. So many people made the effort to visit me often, bringing lots of hugs, laughter, encouragement, puzzle books, flowers, food. I am forever grateful!

The staff at Morristown Medical Center were amazing! It seemed the nurses enjoyed visiting my room because it was filled with positivity and laughter- at least until night time when the pain became unbearable. I began to understand why some people become addicted pain killers. I was very conscience of this possibility and gradually weaned myself off of them (which was not easy) before going to in-patient rehab where I knew only Oxycodine would be administered (which did nothing for me!)

There’s SO MUCH that happened during my healing journey, I would need to write a book, but I will do my best to get the most important points across without boring the hell out of you!

During the most challenging times of my recovery, I found solace and strength in the love and support of my family and friends. Their unwavering belief in me fueled my determination to overcome the obstacles ahead, and I was also determined to be a good role model for the many young nieces and nephews in my life. I also realized that I was not the only one suffering, and if I remained positive and determined, it would help heal my loved ones as well.

It wasn’t just the love and support from the army of loved ones in my life that helped me along my journey; it was the power of movement and the transformative effects that I learned from being a gymnast in my youth, the many years of working as a massage therapist, teaching fitness and yoga, and my love for nature and hiking. I was also fortunate to grow up in a house full of music and dancing, which is embedded in my soul and I can’t go a day without it!

As I navigated through the healing process, I discovered the profound impact these activities had on my physical and mental well-being. They became my therapy and my path to reclaiming my body and spirit. Understanding the connection between mind, body, spirit and movement became my guiding light, especially during the tumultuous and certain times of Covid, which happened almost immediately after I came home from rehab. I was in a state where I felt that nothing worse could happen to me, but if it did, I could handle it- and that gave me a profound sense of peace.

THE BIRTH OF CRANKY SKELLY

The Cranky Skelly with broken legs materialized out of a moment with a brief scuffle with my phone camera as I was attempting to post something on Instagram (which is one of my least favorite tasks!) I wanted to create a short video on demonstrating yoga poses to help promote happiness- but wound up wasting precious time fumbling with equipment, resulting in a cranky mood that prompted me to call my non-existing video “Cranky Yoga” instead of “Happy Yoga”. Being more of an imaginative and creative person, a vision of a cranky-faced skeleton performing Tree-pose with middle fingers in the air materialized in my head. I took the idea to my nephew’s wife, Nicole Tuttle, who is an amazing graphic artist, and she bought Cranky Skelly to life!

The other graphic designer is my niece, Emma Boyd, a graduate from Savannah College of Art and Design, who designed the rest of the Cranky Skellys. I love that this is a family and friends-oriented company. They are my biggest supporters, wearing and promoting my products everywhere!

OUR GOALS

We love to help promote positivity and healing through movement, kindness and compassion towards ourselves and others. Cranky Yoga is a brand that celebrates the resilience of the human spirit and promotes a positive attitude towards life’s challenges. Our logo, with it’s skeleton in Tree Pose giving the middle finger symbolizes defiance in the face of adversity, a rebellious spirit that refuses to be defeated.

Every t-shirt we sell not only carries the story of my journey, but the journey of all the kick-ass warriors who triumph over adversity. It’s a reminder to embrace your inner strength and resilience. By wearing our t-shirts, you not only show your support for Cranky Yoga but also become part of a community that believes in the power of movement, positivity and to practice compassion and kindness towards ourselves and others.

Thank you for joining us on this journey. Together, we can inspire others to find their own path to healing, embrace the joy of movement, and stand against the challenges that life throws our way.

Bust most of all, and above all else, BE KIND- because in the end, kindness is all that matters :)

With love and gratitude,

Sandra Partridge, “Cranky” creator