Paralyzed as a Teen in Ski Jump Accident, Mason Branstrator Goes Viral Sharing Look at His Adaptive Life (Exclusive)
"Nobody else could give me that hope. Nobody else could give me that optimism. It was something that had to come from within"
Mason Branstrator was just 17 when he broke his back while downhill skiing on Jan. 18, 2021.
Afterward, the Duluth, Minn., native was diagnosed as a T12 incomplete paraplegic, which affects lower body functions, including difficulty standing and walking, muscle spasms and more. During his early care and recovery, Branstrator focused on his social media to share firsthand tips for navigating life in a wheelchair, from filling his gas tank to lifting weights at the gym. He's built up approximately 1 million followers in the process.
Branstrator, now 20, just completed his freshman year studying business and entrepreneurship at Denver University in Colorado. But he opted not to go back in the fall, instead concentrating his energy on his social media career.
Here is his story, told to PEOPLE’s Susan Young, in his own words.
Before the accident, I was pretty much one of the most active kids you could be in Duluth. I lived out in the country and spent a lot of time on the lake, mountain biking, downhill skiing, just doing physical activity. I was the captain of my soccer team and the fastest 400m runner on my track team.
I had gone off that jump around 100 times, so I felt super comfortable doing it. As I was flying down the hill, the last thought I had was that I was going a little bit fast. And that’s the last thing I remember before everything went completely black.
I woke up in the intensive care unit and people were surrounding me. I was confused. I just thought my legs were broken. I remember the doctors saying, "We don't know if you'll ever be able to walk again." I think the scariest part was just trying to be so optimistic. But I was not able to comprehend at all how challenging those words were going to make my recovery.
Spinal cord injury is unpredictable and unique to every individual. One major factor is whether you are "complete" at the time of injury, which means there are no nerve signals being sent, or "incomplete," which means there are still signals getting through your spinal cord.
I was incomplete. Oftentimes if you're incomplete, there's recovery or a significant amount of recovery that takes place. A lot of that recovery can be dependent on your mindset and how much you're willing to put into it.
As I went through rehab, I had all of this recovery that was taking place. I was getting feeling back, I was starting to move muscles in my legs, my quads started firing a little bit. My hamstrings started firing other muscles. But I could never fully commit to my recovery because there was always this voice in the back of my head saying [like those doctors did], "You're never going to walk again."
There is the battle between walking and not walking that becomes a battle between hanging on to optimism and hope and trying to be realistic about what your physical picture actually looks like.
After about a year of really trying hard to walk, my legs just weren't responding in the way that I wanted them to. I could stand up, I could take steps with a walker and forearm crutches, but my wheelchair was just so much faster and easier.
I think it was about a year and a half in when I was starting to realize that even if I committed to rehab, I wouldn't get to a point where I'd be happy using walking over my wheelchair. These are the big decisions that you make when you have a spinal cord injury: Do I pour more money into physical rehab, or do I start thinking about what is functional for me?
We ended up using the rehab money to give me a minivan that allows me to take all my equipment everywhere and bring my friends.
I started to increase using all the things that were adaptive mobility and taking part in adaptive sports, including water skis, mountain bikes for paraplegics, and living my fullest life in the chair. I just started saying yes and exploring life because I was confident in myself.
Living with a spinal cord injury takes a lot of thinking outside the box and taking what the world has to offer. While I was at this tennis camp, I met one of the guys who was able to stand but not walk well. I watched him throw his wheelchair in the back of his pickup truck and kind of "monkey bar" his way back to the front seat by hanging from the top of the truck.
It clicked in my head, so I started developing my ability to do that.
My mom, Stacy, my dad, Donn, and my sister, Sydney have been so supportive and let me take the lead in my recovery. And that was empowering. There were also hard conversations about what my future is going to look like.
I think about going from being a scared 17-year-old in the ICU who had just found out they're paralyzed to me now: Almost four years later, I've completed a marathon, a triathlon, met hundreds of friends through my social media that are in wheelchairs, been able to share different types of mobility equipment with the world.
I'm living my dream of helping people that I had since even before I was paralyzed. I get the most wonderful messages from people saying how inspired they are and how watching me go out and do things has encouraged them to do the same.
The unknown is so scary. But imagining it in a positive way can make all the difference. I've been so grateful for all of the people that have supported me along my journey and become incredible resources for me to live this life.
You know, I used to hate swimming. I had a hole in my eardrum so it prevented me from dunking my head underwater. And that gave me fear.
But after my injury, I started thinking it was time to face another fear. In the triathlon, I did a mile swim in almost 35 minutes.
Swimming is a great analogy for doing anything in life. You just have to jump into that cold water. After my paralysis, I thought things were going to be so scary and hard, but once I started it wasn't so bad. I think the takeaway is you don't tell a teen who's vulnerable something that could take away part of their hope.
Nobody else could give me that hope. Nobody else could give me that optimism. It was something that had to come from within.
And that is the hardest part about life, is that nobody can do it for you. And we're all on our own path. It can be confusing. We can always get advice from the people around us, but ultimately we have to make the hard decisions for ourselves.
For more People news, make sure to sign up for our newsletter!
Read the original article on People.