When was the last time you did something for the first time?

Six days before my 33rd birthday, I decided to do things I had not yet done in my life. On that day – while lounging on my bed at the exquisite Fort Ilocandia in Laoag, Ilocos Norte – I woke up to a beautiful morning asking myself: "When was the last time I did something for the first time?"

My question was answered when the exciting invitation to go up, up and away on a hot air balloon came. I jumped out of the bed and dashed to the beach front of the hotel where the guide was starting to heat up the hot air balloon. Nothing beat the excitement of being on a big basket while my friends and I went up in the air. After 20 minutes of being suspended in mid-air, we went down. We had a beautiful landing. It was exhilarating to ride the hot air balloon, and, mind you, I rode it twice in a matter of an hour. If only for the very liberating feeling it brought me, I wanted to ride the hot air balloon forever.

It was a fantastic way to start the morning. Our group’s ecstatic experience was followed by a fabulous breakfast fare of dinuguang chicharon, papaitan, poki-poki, bagnet with bagoong, among other Iloco specialties. My teeth were still wrestling with the crunchy bagnet when somebody in our long table mentioned about driving an ATV (all-terrain vehicle) and parasailing as part of our stay at Fort Ilocandia.

Everybody was excited. But no one in the group could match my excitement. When I was in Bali last August, I wanted to do parasailing but I opted not to do it because no one would take my photograph as my friends were busy having Balinese massage. With this offer at Fort Ilocandia, my long-time dream of freeing myself via parasailing would be fulfilled. Only, when we got back to the hotel, the wind did not cooperate thereby blowing my chance to parasail. I was assured nonetheless that we could do parasailing at 2 p.m. "when it is not too windy."

Fret I did not because I could still do the ATV. It was also my first time to ride the all-terrain vehicle. The ATV was actually a sand buggy, a very-easy-small motorcycle with four wheels. With just one push of the button and it would start. Because the track was by the beach, I prepared myself to drive on the sand. There was also a trail that led to the forest. There were 15 of us in the group. The operator began to start the engines of 15 ATVs. I chose the green sand buggy.

My first 20 minutes of ATV ride was glorious. I was on my own, carting my own wheels, creating my own space, making my own pace. It was challenging every time I got stuck in the sand. When this happened, I would press the gas button hardly as I pumped the body of the ATV so I could get out of the sand trap.

The more I increased my speed, the more I courted danger. I was going wild. The scent of the screeching rubber that mixed well with the smell of gas and the cool breeze of the ocean was intoxicating. I drove as fast as I could.

I drove like hell I did not see the curve in front of me. I hit the curve... and flew as high as 20 feet above the ground. I somersaulted twice in the air... fell flat on my face... then the ATV fell on me. A few inches from where I landed was a big log buried in the sand with a sharp, protruding branch. Had I landed there, I could have been skewed and skewered to death.

As I was spinning in the air, snippets of my life flashed before me as if they were embossed tapestries on the azure sea. As I twirled twice in mid-air, I still thought of covering my face with my bare hands. Thank God I was wearing a helmet!

By virtue of adrenaline rush, I was able to stand up shortly after my fall. I was able to get up notwithstanding the ATV on my back. My friends, who witnessed my accident, were all startled. Someone thought I was just joking about my fall because I was able to give them a Sandara Park wave and uttered her famous line: "Mahal ko kayo!" I even asked my best friend Christine Dayrit to take my photograph as I assembled the ATV back on the track. I asked for another photo op while I was kissing my trusty, four-year-old Happy Feet (which had traveled with me from UP Los Baños to South Africa) good bye because its straps snapped when I fell. Except for a small and shallow scratch below my right knee, I figured miraculously unscathed in that accident. Or so I thought.

Not a belly-aching-cry-baby that I was, I managed to still join the group in our trek that would lead us to the forest track. Because I was not traumatized by my accident, I continued to drive, let alone I drove unshod. In the first five minutes, I was still okay, running past many of my friends. A few minutes after, I slowed down and everybody drove past me. Everybody was driving fast this time, so fast I could hardly catch up with them. Until I was left behind and left alone in the path. In the middle of my slow driving, I stopped because of a pinching pain in my right chest. From pinching, the pain became excruciating. I couldn’t shout for help because I was too weak to shout. After mustering enough strength, I managed to wave my left hand to my friends who were half a kilometer away from me already. The guide came back and found me frozen in my seat. I couldn’t move because it was too painful to move. Even breathing caused me pain. Sneezing, coughing, even the caressing of the blowing breeze brought me pain.

Three men had to carry me to be transferred to a bigger bike so I could be transported faster to the recreation center where I was given first aid. First aid was a glass of water, bandage, tourniquet and two sticks of cigarette. I needed to smoke to forget about the pain. Then they put me on a stretcher. I was riveting in pain. I felt like it was my end. Inside the ambulance, I was throwing up. I was brought first to a private hospital in Laoag but the hospital had no doctor. Whew! I only got my pain killer shot after 20 minutes when I was brought to a government hospital where they did my X-ray. Thank God I had no fractured ribs or bones or whatsoever. I had contusions all over. "Lamog na lamog ang laman mo sa loob, sa right side," the attending doctor told me. After a pain shot, I was sent back to the hotel. Never mind if I was still in pain.

At the beach front of the hotel, the wind was calm, perfect for parasailing. But I couldn’t ride the wind anymore. I was crying. I had no broken bones. Only broken pride.

Later that afternoon, we caught our flight back to Manila. I was on a wheelchair still grimacing in pain. The ice pack that had been making love to my chest for almost six hours seemed not to abate the pain.

I was wheeled out of the plane upon reaching the domestic airport in Manila. From there, an ambulance rushed me to Medical City where I underwent several tests. Thankfully, my orthopedic doctor reassured me that I had no broken bones except that I had smashed cartilage and that "was the problem" for crushed cartilage takes its own time to heal. I was given pain killers and two months to bed rest. Ouch!

In those days, pain and I had become close allies every day. Like a friend, pain would not leave me.

It took me months before I could walk normally and freely sans the stabbing pain that I used to experience every time I would go up and down the stairs. Are you kidding me? I did not dare.

My second lease on life is something I celebrate every day. It has been exactly two months and one day since I first experienced to live a normal life again. At times, pain proves to be a fiercely loyal friend. But I’m not complaining. Yes, I would love to ride the ATV again; this time with much caution. And yes, I would still have my tryst with the wind via parasailing.

Take care of yourselves.

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For your new beginnings, please e-mail me at [email protected].