Beyond Survival: Karrie Ann’s Journey of Resilience and Rebirth

What makes you a Beautiful Disaster?

I am a domestic violence and stroke survivor.

Why do you identify with the Beautiful Disaster brand?

I have embraced the Phoenix philosophy since 2004.

Tell us your Beautiful Disaster story.

On a clear, sunny evening around 7:30 PM on August 14, 2021, I had a motorcycle accident.

I was riding into the sun, mourning my mother who had passed just three weeks prior, and I was less than a mile from home. I had spent most of the day at Little Sodus Inn and was on my way back when I lost control of my 2017 Iron 883 Sportster, crashing into a six-foot-tall Rose of Sharon bush/tree at an estimated 55 mph.

Needless to say, my HJC helmet did not protect my face. It appears that I bit the handlebars of my bike upon impact. A branch tore through my jeans, leaving a large hole in my left thigh. Unfortunately, I wasn’t wearing my visor because I wanted to feel the wind on my face, and there is speculation that either a branch or the force of the impact caused me to lose my right eye.

I ended up face-down next to the tree I had collided with, while my bike landed on the other side of the tree line.

That night, fate placed a hero on the road with me. A man named Gary, who was out with his daughter and her mother giving driving lessons, happened to be passing by. From the backseat, the mother noticed me where I had fallen. They saw other motorcyclists—whom I had been riding with—standing over me.

Gary, a 29-year veteran of the Wolcott Fire Department, immediately sprang into action. When he checked for my pulse and couldn’t find one, he started chest compressions without hesitation. He is my true hero—thank God for him.

Another motorcyclist rushed to inform Jerry of the accident, while another left to get his car. Others stayed by my side as I gargled on my own blood—a horrifying sight for anyone to witness.

When Jerry arrived, he used his hoodie as a tourniquet for my leg and allowed the EMTs to take over. Lakeshore Ambulance responded, with WCALS (Wayne County ALS) dispatched to assist.

M83 Chuck Drollette, a seasoned paramedic, arrived on the scene. As he came around the side of the ambulance, he saw chest compressions being performed on me, with blood spurting from my mouth and face.

I had suffered severe facial trauma—so severe that Chuck later described it as the worst "Le Fort" fracture he had ever seen in a patient who was still alive. My face was essentially floating on my skull, completely unstable. My gums, teeth, and the roof of my mouth were fractured and lacerated. My nose was torn to the side, and my bottom lip was barely hanging on.

As they attempted to suction the blood from my mouth, multiple loose or dislodged teeth created a choking hazard. Each time a tooth was removed, bleeding would restart, leading to four to five minutes of constant intervention before it was under control.

Though I was still breathing on my own, I was unable to maintain my own airway. Chuck made the critical decision to intubate me and breathe for me. The trauma, blood loss, and my critical condition made this extremely difficult.

At some point during this process, my heart stopped beating again, and CPR was resumed.

To relieve the pressure in my chest, Chuck inserted needles into my chest cavity. By pure chance, Jamie Syrett, another highly trained responder, was driving home from work and stopped to assist. Both he and Chuck placed chest tubes in my lungs to drain the accumulating blood from my trauma injuries. My leg tourniquet had to be repositioned multiple times to control the bleeding.

Once they stabilized my pulse and administered medication to keep my heart going, LifeNet arrived. I was transferred to the flight crew for emergency transport to Upstate University Hospital in Syracuse.

The Fight for My Life

Even in the helicopter, I was so critical that my heart stopped again.

Thanks to the unbelievable efforts of the flight crew, I was still alive when we landed in Syracuse. However, upon arrival in the emergency room, I coded again.

Jerry, who had been at my side throughout, told the staff not to resuscitate me if I coded again. My father collapsed to the floor upon hearing this.

But I wasn’t done fighting.

I knew I couldn’t leave my daughter and sons behind.

By the time my family had been notified and my sister Layla, my son Draven, and his girlfriend Ellie began their seven-hour drive in the middle of the night, they fully expected to find me dead or brain-dead when they arrived.

My other son, Tristan, and his grandmother took a flight from Florida to be by my side as well.

By 8 AM, my family had gathered in the hospital, anxiously awaiting news.

That morning, the incredible surgeons at Upstate University Hospital performed emergency reconstruction of my nose and bottom lip—right in my ICU room, before visiting hours even began.

Life After the Accident

The impact had caused a stroke, leaving me with left-side paralysis in my arm and significant weakness in my left leg. I had mild bleeding in three areas of my brain, but thankfully, it never required drainage or brain surgery.

After a few days, doctors performed a tracheotomy to assist my breathing and to maintain my airway for upcoming facial reconstruction surgeries.

I spent about a week in the ICU, breathing mostly on my own after the first few days. I was later transferred to the step-down unit, where doctors assessed my brain function and stroke damage.

At times, I could write on a whiteboard, though my words didn’t always make sense.

From there, I was transferred to an incredible brain rehabilitation hospital in Schenectady, where I learned to walk, talk, and understand things again.

After several weeks, I was moved to an extended-care facility closer to home—but it did not provide proper care.

Eventually, after many setbacks, I secured my own apartment, where I still live independently.

Still Fighting, Still Strong

I continue to heal every day.

I attend social clubs through Wayne County Behavioral Health and a traumatic brain injury support group once a week. I also go to physical therapy twice a week and am waiting to restart speech and occupational therapy.

I schedule and attend my own appointments, and my daughter lives with me 50% of the time.

My memory and personality are mostly intact, but some days are extremely hard—especially without an aide.

But here I am, three years later.

I went from near death and needing a Hoyer lift and diapers to walking on my own in just eight months.

I lost a lot of friends—some couldn’t handle who I became after my accident. But the few good ones remain.

What helped me turn it around?

The love and support of my father, cousin, sister, and three beautiful children—who I live for every single day.

Three things that bring me happiness:

1. My children
2. My children
3. My children

Favorite Beautiful Disaster Collection:

Rise Again—because I have a Phoenix tattooed on my right sleeve, symbolizing my journey.