By Lori Ruhlman
Three years after her life-altering fall, Dianne Vitkus came home to Central New York to spend nearly a month over the holidays. She brought the determination and happy spirit she was known for on the playing fields and in the hallways of Skaneateles High School.
She brought new-found independence in the form of a compact motorized wheelchair and an accessible SUV that she has worked hard to be able to get in and out of independently, and to drive, as a quadriplegic.
And she brought the optimism and wisdom that have earned her grants, awards, notoriety, and intense admiration as she has worked hard to recover as much mobility and health possible while living in Boston.
While here for her longest visit home to Central New York since her accident, Vitkus drove herself into Syracuse to meet with friends, and – thanks to the Kelly Brush Foundation – took off a week to fly to Colorado where she skied in Breckenridge at the Hartford Ski Spectacular with Move United, an adaptive outdoors foundation.
Being back for that month was the first time CNY felt like home again, she said, “because I finally have enough comfort with this new identity that I am no longer clinging to the remembrance of things past.”
When she fell 12 feet from the rooftop of her Syracuse apartment after watching a sunset in 2020, Vitkus was 27 years old and working as a surgical physician assistant at St. Joseph’s Hospital. After college years as a lacrosse player at Brown University, she had attended LeMoyne College to become a PA, and was living her dream.
As a healthcare provider, Vitkus said she knew immediately after falling that her life had changed forever.
She couldn’t move or feel her legs.
“I knew the control and freedom I once had over my life was gone,” she said.
She spent four weeks in the intensive care unit in Syracuse – with chest tubes, a feeding tube, respirator, and tracheotomy – before being transferred to Spaulding Rehabilitation Center in Boston for two months in intensive inpatient rehab. With the optimism and perseverance that she used on athletic fields, she recovered enough to live independently in Boston, where she started a new life.
Many have followed her on Instagram (@vittysvoyage) since the accident and marveled at how much she has done and all that she has become.
She is an ambassador for Wings for Life, a foundation with one mission: “to make spinal cord injuries curable.”
She is a mentor and ambassador for SCI Boston, and is co-founder of a SCI support group. She is a sought-after speaker and is featured in an upcoming documentary called “This is NOT a dream.”
She has received a citation from Massachusetts Governor Maura T. Healey in recognition of all that she has done for others, “and for providing inspiration with your commitment to your own recovery.”
In the proclamation, Healey commends Vitkus for her “unwavering willpower” to overcome obstacles.
Indeed, those words are used often by friends, family members, and others who know Vitkus. Her commitment is awe-inspiring.
Her parents, Jim and Suzanne Vitkus of Skaneateles, marvel at her determination and perseverance every day.
“If we say it once a day, we say it four times,” Jim said. “She manages to start each day fresh, leaving whatever happened yesterday behind her as best she can.”
Their heartache over Dianne’s loss is clearly also intwined with nearly indescribable pride.
Her parents had seen this resilience before: Dianne has been managing her type one diabetes since being diagnosed in her senior year of high school. She is on an insulin pump to manage her blood sugar.
In addition to gaining independence and strength after the accident, Vitkus worked hard to recover use of her hands so that she could return to her job as a surgical PA.
As that dream disappeared (six surgeries haven’t recovered the use in the way she hoped) she found a new path in the field of mental health. She works for Boston Neurobehavioral Associates and brings “a lived experience with trauma” in her quest to help other people.
Now, in addition to being an advocate for people with disabilities, she is also campaigning for better and more mental health care.
“A big hole in the Spinal Cord Injury community is the lack of mental health resources,” she said. “We get hurt and put so much emphasis on rehabbing the physical body. But the toll the injury takes on mental health is just as debilitating.”
It took time and determination for her to realize that even without the hands needed to be a surgical physician assistant, she could still be a professional, and still help other people.
“At the core I’m still me, and with some strengths lost I have gained others which has shifted my passions,” she said.
This deep knowledge has helped her evolve to live in the moment and to accept what she can and cannot do.
This doesn’t mean she will stop pushing, but there is also a peace in accepting.
In 2024, Vitkus said she will willingly let some doors close.
She will embrace all that is within reach and charge through the doors that she can.
She will continue to work hard to improve and to maintain her health.
She goes weekly to Journey Forward, a paralysis gym in the Boston area, where she works out hard for three hours.
It is expensive at $10,000 a year and affordable through grants and money donated by many people in the fundraising campaign right after her injury.
It is a favorite spot for many reasons.
“I’ve always made friends around physical activity,” she said of her lifelong focus on sports.
At Journey Forward, while working her body hard, she has made close friends with the trainers and other chair users. It is a favorite social time.
While accepting that “this might be my body for a while,” Vitkus has started putting greater emphasis on finding the technology and access she needs to lead an independent life.
She has learned lessons that take many people a lifetime.
“I don’t take any of this for granted any more,” Vitkus said. “I enjoy this moment. I want to live and appreciate what I still have,” she said.
While she once had regret and reluctance about needing to accept help from others, she now understands it is a circle.
“I accept help so that I can help others in return – and pay it forward,” she said. “We will all at some point need help.”
She shared pictures of her just-lived ski experience in Colorado. While she would rather be able to ski the way she once did, or to at least “mono ski” without having to have someone tethered to her, she now appreciates that it is “about the whole experience.”
Even with the necessary adaptations, she still experiences the camaraderie the sport brings as well as the excitement in the lodge, the views, and the fresh crisp winter air.
“I can still get to the top of the mountain,” she said. “I just need a hand to get there.”
Submitted photos
Skaneateles native Dianne Vitkus came home to visit over the holidays, brining focus and determination with her.
