Stroke survivor’s hardships and courage brings much-needed perspective
We can all learn a lot from Chris Sellman.
Ten years ago, newly retired from the Air Force in his early 40s, he dreamed of becoming a fire inspector with the Clark County Fire Department. He had served as a firefighter in the Air Force but was working as a safety manager for a casino.
Within two years, the arc of his life was turning upward. Through a church group, he met a woman he would marry. And the Clark County Fire Department offered him a position as an inspector.
“I thought 2008 was going to be the best year of my life,” Sellman said the other day on his backyard patio. “Sharon and I had been married just 10 months earlier, and I was supposed to start my new job with Clark County the day after Labor Day weekend. And then I got screwed.”
Not long after he and Sharon enjoyed seeing comedian Bill Engvall perform that holiday weekend, Sellman experienced severe stomach pain. Relaxing at home didn’t diminish the pain, so he ended up in in the MountainView Hospital emergency room. Doctors treated him for pancreatitis, kidney failure and cardiac arrest. He had emergency bowel surgery and went into septic shock.
“What was so crazy is that I just had a thorough physical with Clark County and found to be in great shape,” Sellman said.
He was placed in a medically induced coma to help him recover. Physicians soon realized after he came out of the coma that he had suffered a stroke, leaving him unable to walk, talk or move his hands and arms. Sellman was blind in his right eye and had minimal sight in his left eye.
Transferred from MountainView to Summerlin Hospital, Sellman began the physical and occupational therapy that has made it possible for him to talk and walk with the aid of his guide dog, Obi. He is, however, unable to work or drive a car.
“It has been hard,” said Sharon Sellman, a schoolteacher. “One day you’re thinking about starting a family and the next you’re trying to help somebody walk and talk again. I was in denial about the after effects on him for a long time.”
Chris Sellman, who admits he has thought about suicide, said he’s amazed his wife has been so supportive. “For better or worse, in sickness or in health, she believes that,” he said. “I feel bad she’s had to dress me, give me baths, but that’s who she is.”
In her honor, as part of a fundraiser at the Stratosphere, Sellman climbed 108 floors in 24 minutes, placing 143rd out of 600 contestants. He speaks of that success when he counsels other stroke victims at Summerlin Hospital.
He finds purpose in helping stroke victims — “I want them to know they can still find happiness” — he thinks many people who aren’t disabled could benefit from what he has to say. “People need to learn to smell the roses each day, to enjoy what they’ve got instead of crying over what they don’t have.”
I told my daughter Sonja what Sellman said. She nearly lost her life in a car accident not far from the performing arts high school she attended in Houston. A cancer scare in college could have been far worse than a scare. Her arm went dead from too much violin practice — she couldn’t pick up the instrument for months. A year’s worth of physical therapy followed.
She went on to play at the Kennedy Center, the Library of Congress and many other concert halls around the world. Over the weekend, I watched her receive her Ph.D. in musical arts from Rice University. I couldn’t help thinking about her good fortune, about our family’s good fortune.
About Chris Sellman.
When it appeared she’d never play the violin again, Sonja had fallen into a frightening funk. I worried about what would happen to her if her arm didn’t come around.
“I know he’s right,” she said after her graduation, “but it’s much easier said than done.”
Paul Harasim’s column runs Sunday, Tuesday and Friday in the Nevada section and Thursday in the Life section. Contact him at pharasim@reviewjournal.