True grit: Utahn hasn't let crash and pain ruin life

He never saw the rock. All he remembers is riding a four-wheeled motorcycle through the Utah desert on a Saturday evening, and then he was lying in the dust, waiting for help on the longest night of his life.

He didn't know how he got there. The axle of his ATV told the story: It was mangled where it had crashed into a rock that he had failed to see in the fading light of the evening. He had apparently flown over the handlebars and landed head first. His helmet had protected his head but not his neck. Lying there, he knew immediately he was in trouble. He was, after all, a doctor.

It felt like a bad dream. Suddenly, his life had come to a crashing halt. He knew he was paralyzed. And that wasn't even his worst concern. He was miles from nowhere. He could die.

Steve Brady had it all until that moment. A beautiful wife whose youthful looks defy age. Four healthy kids. A thriving and rewarding medical practice in Las Vegas. A good income. His life had seemed to follow a map laid out for males who grow up in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Church on Sundays. Eagle Scout. Activities. A church mission. College. Marriage. Children. Career. A house. Church positions.

Nowhere in there did anyone say anything about a wheelchair.

Like most people, his life had always been one big dash from one thing to the next. He was caught up in the rush of errands and appointments and seeing patients and getting kids to ballgames and mowing the lawn. He was supposed to operate on seven patients two days later.

"I was in the middle of life," he says.

And then in a split second he was yanked out of his life. Everything came to a stop.

It was 1996 and Brady had joined several friends on a weekend outing in the rugged desert country in southern Utah. The nearest town was Green River, and that wasn't near. They spent the day exploring the scenery on their ATVs. As the sun began to drop into the horizon, they started back. Brady veered slightly off the trail, and there was that rock.

It was several minutes before his friends realized Brady was missing and returned to find him lying on the ground, on his side.

"I couldn't move," he says. "I knew immediately what had happened."

His friends didn't dare move him. Brady, being well-versed in the potential complications, was no longer as concerned about paralysis but another more serious problem.