This article is based on the real-life events of Brandon Christiansen.

It all started on the night I had my last drink. I was a sophomore in college and it was the end of Hell Week for my fraternity. I was the president, and my frat brothers and I had made stops at three bars -- and drank at all three.

I wanted to go home, so I decided to walk (or should I say, stagger). It seemed like a good idea at the time -- after all, I wasn't going to drive drunk. It was a big mistake.

I was just around the corner from my school, Southern Methodist University (Dallas, TX). I left the bar and stumbled down the street toward my apartment, which was right by school. I walked down Yale Avenue toward the expressway, then under construction. I couldn't cross the bridge of the highway, and the sidewalk was closed. So, I walked on the road as best I could. Suddenly, the sound of a blaring horn awoke my senses. I turned around and saw a sight that will forever be etched in my memory -- a pair of headlights coming straight at me. After the impact, I had months to sleep off my night of fun with the guys.

When I finally woke up in the hospital three months later, I was confused. Waking up from a coma isn't like the movies -- I didn't instantly open my eyes and begin to talk; it took awhile. When I did completely regain consciousness, I was surrounded by my family, my girlfriend, and most of my fraternity brothers. I couldn't figure out where I was, or why I was there. I didn't talk until a couple of weeks later, but when I did, I asked, "What happened?" time and time again.

Because I had to learn everything over again, it took months for me to understand what had actually occurred the night of my accident. When I finally discovered what unfolded in the moments after I was blinded by the headlights, I was shocked. Those lights belonged to a semi-truck, which hit and propelled me high above the highway's overpass. I landed on two steel bars, piercing one of my arteries, and hung there upside down for the rest of the night, until a driver found me around 5:30 the next morning.

In addition to the piercing heart damage, my left shoulder and right wrist were broken. The doctors told my parents that the head wounds I suffered would cause permanent brain damage. They even tried to convince my parents to remove me from life support and donate the rest of my organs; luckily my parents wouldn't do it. They wanted to at least wait for my sister Jenny to fly in from Indonesia to see me one last time before they made such a big decision.

It turned out that three days was just enough time. By the time my sister arrived in Dallas, I had begun to show signs of recovery. The odds were against me, but my parents held on to the hope that I would one day wake up. When I finally came out of the coma, I defied the doctor's original prognosis. The days that followed, however, proved to be the greatest challenge of my life.

I had to be fed through a tube in my stomach, and I was hooked up to a breathing machine. It took me three months to regain my speech. I had to learn how to swallow, crawl, and walk all over again. I was literally like a baby. I even wore adult under-garments for nearly seven months. Those were hard days, but still, I felt lucky to even be alive. According to the doctors, the fact that I hung upside down after the accident, kept enough blood flowing to my brain to keep me alive. After I awoke from the coma, I went back to Illinois with my parents for more treatment and rehab. When I was well enough to return to Dallas, the doctors were amazed at my recovery. Even when I go back to the hospital for visits now, no one can believe I'm the same guy who laid there in a three-month coma.

Some people call it a miracle. I know God kept me alive because I have a story to tell... a purpose to protect others from falling victim to such a horrible event. Many people have asked me when and why I started drinking. I didn't do it because I had a terrible life or to escape my problems. I started drinking because I could get away with it, at an age as early as 11. I never thought taking a drink could cause harm to myself or anyone else. In college, it was the same way. Looking back, I guess my friends and I could have been considered alcoholics. We drank about six days a week. It was a destructive lifestyle, one acted out under the guise of "college life." I know now that if it hadn't been for my accident, I would be dead, or severely messed up mentally.

Even though the accident forced me to relearn life's basic functions all over again, I'm much smarter now because of it. I used to think I was indestructible. I thought I'd tasted life. Now I know that back then, I didn't have a clue as to what life was really about.

This article is based on the real-life events of Brandon Christiansen.

It all started on the night I had my last drink. I was a sophomore in college and it was the end of Hell Week for my fraternity. I was the president, and my frat brothers and I had made stops at three bars -- and drank at all three.

I wanted to go home, so I decided to walk (or should I say, stagger). It seemed like a good idea at the time -- after all, I wasn't going to drive drunk. It was a big mistake.

I was just around the corner from my school, Southern Methodist University (Dallas, TX). I left the bar and stumbled down the street toward my apartment, which was right by school. I walked down Yale Avenue toward the expressway, then under construction. I couldn't cross the bridge of the highway, and the sidewalk was closed. So, I walked on the road as best I could. Suddenly, the sound of a blaring horn awoke my senses. I turned around and saw a sight that will forever be etched in my memory -- a pair of headlights coming straight at me. After the impact, I had months to sleep off my night of fun with the guys.

When I finally woke up in the hospital three months later, I was confused. Waking up from a coma isn't like the movies -- I didn't instantly open my eyes and begin to talk; it took awhile. When I did completely regain consciousness, I was surrounded by my family, my girlfriend, and most of my fraternity brothers. I couldn't figure out where I was, or why I was there. I didn't talk until a couple of weeks later, but when I did, I asked, "What happened?" time and time again.

Because I had to learn everything over again, it took months for me to understand what had actually occurred the night of my accident. When I finally discovered what unfolded in the moments after I was blinded by the headlights, I was shocked. Those lights belonged to a semi-truck, which hit and propelled me high above the highway's overpass. I landed on two steel bars, piercing one of my arteries, and hung there upside down for the rest of the night, until a driver found me around 5:30 the next morning.

In addition to the piercing heart damage, my left shoulder and right wrist were broken. The doctors told my parents that the head wounds I suffered would cause permanent brain damage. They even tried to convince my parents to remove me from life support and donate the rest of my organs; luckily my parents wouldn't do it. They wanted to at least wait for my sister Jenny to fly in from Indonesia to see me one last time before they made such a big decision.

It turned out that three days was just enough time. By the time my sister arrived in Dallas, I had begun to show signs of recovery. The odds were against me, but my parents held on to the hope that I would one day wake up. When I finally came out of the coma, I defied the doctor's original prognosis. The days that followed, however, proved to be the greatest challenge of my life.

I had to be fed through a tube in my stomach, and I was hooked up to a breathing machine. It took me three months to regain my speech. I had to learn how to swallow, crawl, and walk all over again. I was literally like a baby. I even wore adult under-garments for nearly seven months. Those were hard days, but still, I felt lucky to even be alive. According to the doctors, the fact that I hung upside down after the accident, kept enough blood flowing to my brain to keep me alive. After I awoke from the coma, I went back to Illinois with my parents for more treatment and rehab. When I was well enough to return to Dallas, the doctors were amazed at my recovery. Even when I go back to the hospital for visits now, no one can believe I'm the same guy who laid there in a three-month coma.

Some people call it a miracle. I know God kept me alive because I have a story to tell... a purpose to protect others from falling victim to such a horrible event. Many people have asked me when and why I started drinking. I didn't do it because I had a terrible life or to escape my problems. I started drinking because I could get away with it, at an age as early as 11. I never thought taking a drink could cause harm to myself or anyone else. In college, it was the same way. Looking back, I guess my friends and I could have been considered alcoholics. We drank about six days a week. It was a destructive lifestyle, one acted out under the guise of "college life." I know now that if it hadn't been for my accident, I would be dead, or severely messed up mentally.

Even though the accident forced me to relearn life's basic functions all over again, I'm much smarter now because of it. I used to think I was indestructible. I thought I'd tasted life. Now I know that back then, I didn't have a clue as to what life was really about.

• For Help
  If someone you know has an alcohol problem, you may wish to talk to others about your experience. Al-Anon Family Groups, which includes Alateen, have been in existence for more than 49 years as a community resource providing support to those affected by someone else's drinking. Today, there are about 30,000 Al-Anon and Alateen groups meeting in 112 countries. Meetings are anonymous and confidential. There are no dues or fees for membership. For meeting information call 888-4AL-ANON, or log onto www.al-anon.org/alateen.html.
  
  For further assistance, contact the National Council on Alcoholism at 800-NCA-CALL; the American Council on Alcoholism at 800-527-5344; or the National Clearinghouse for Alcohol and Drug Information at 800-729-6686.



• What to Do (and Not Do) When a Friend Has a Problem
  Don't confront a friend while he or she is under the influence. You won't be talking to a person who's in their right mind. Since they could be quite unstable, confronting them while they're drunk may only make matters worse.
  
  Don't be judgmental. You may or may not know exactly what drives the person to do what he or she does.
  
  Do be specific. Tell your friend exactly which of his or her behaviors concern you.
  
  Don't be confrontational or try to outnumber him or her.
  
  Do be caring and concerned when communicating.

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