What I learned about my first year in my 40's

This is me at 41. It’s been a year of ups and downs as I reached the big 4-0, but growing older hasn’t been too bad overall. 

I feel comfortable in my older, maybe a little more weathered, skin, but it’s been a mixture of emotions. Primarily, I’ve noticed I’ve been having a little more fear and anxiety lately.

When I was in my 20s and 30s, I always assumed that my future was something way down the road. All of my hopes, dreams and goals had a long runway. I didn’t need to worry about rushing to accomplish things.

• Find a girlfriend? It’ll happen eventually.

• Travel to exotic places? You’ll have plenty of time for that.

• Start a foundation to help others with disabilities? Dream big, Gabe.

Suddenly 20 years fly by and all those hopes and goals have stalled. That runway has gotten incredibly shorter. And that’s where the fear and anxiety come in.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my life and I wouldn’t change it for anything, but I planned on doing things in my life and it feels like those opportunities are quickly passing me by. If not gone already.

If nothing else, my foray into my 40s has brought me a new sense of urgency. I don’t know how much time or opportunity I have left to do the things I still want to accomplish. No longer can I procrastinate and practice patience.

I’ve seen and experienced a lot in my 40 years, but there’s still plenty I want to do.

There’s no better time to start than now.

Love or livelihood: Can I have a relationship as a disabled person?

I hope to fall in love one day. But as I get farther and farther away from 40, the prospect of being in a relationship feels more like a dream than reality.

My social life involving the opposite sex has been virtually non-existent over the past two decades. Sure, I've asked girls out. Yes, I have “gone out” with girls, but never on an actual date. For one reason or another, my wheels and feet eventually get firmly planted in the "friend zone."

Now, my lack of "rizz" notwithstanding, an article I recently came across has me thinking my soul-crushing shyness isn't the only problem I will need to overcome.

In this article on 19thnews.org,, Caregiving reporter Sara Luterman talks about how getting married could mean losing life-saving benefits for some people with disabilities. The piece features couples going through this situation and explains how a disabled person with a romantic partner could find themselves choosing between the love of their life or keeping services that essentially keep them alive.

It's a lot more complicated than what I can explain in a blog post, so I recommend you read the article when you have a moment. For now, I wanted to offer my perspective on the situation.

I think this is horrible. The fact that these issues come up is appalling. Our disabilities already take so much from our lives, to have the bureaucratic rules and regulations add more hindrances than help is ridiculous. The services we receive for the daily care that help us live should not be threatened because we choose to fall in love; an emotion that non-disabled people get to experience without penalty.

These rules were made decades ago. A time when people thought differently. A time when most people thought people with disabilities weren’t worthy enough to experience love, or too broken to have someone love them back. A lot has changed since then. Disability is becoming more accepted in mainstream society and we are becoming more open-minded. Maybe that will lead to good news.

This issue was brought to my attention soon after I became a quadriplegic and it has always been in the back of my mind. It's now made its way forward and becoming more prominent as the days go by. Hopefully, we will see changes in the marriage penalty in my lifetime.

For now, I will continue to be a hopeless romantic and believe that one day I will get to experience love. Happy endings and true love will continue to be notions mostly seen on the big screen and in the Hallmark movies I embarrassingly admit to watching. Right now, a girlfriend might not be in my immediate future but who knows, maybe I will find myself as a man, sitting in front of a woman, asking her to love him.

For this Cardinals fan, it’s time to party like its 1999

Another Arizona Cardinals season is upon us. If you’ve been reading up on the upcoming season for Arizona, things aren’t looking good.

Many prognosticators are picking the Cardinals to finish dead last and have one of the worst teams in the league.

Unfortunately, this isn’t unfamiliar territory for this organization. And for this Cardinals fan, it’s an all too familiar feeling.

Guess it’s time to party like it’s 1999.

My family and I have had season tickets since the team moved to Arizona in the late 80s. As a kid, Sundays at Sun Devil Stadium were a tradition. A time to cheer on our favorite football team with my mom, dad, brother, uncle and grandparents.

If you aren’t aware of the Cardinals’ history, they weren’t exactly a winning franchise. Most seasons, my family and I were talking draft picks by November. If the Cardinals ever won, it felt like a Super Bowl victory.

But that didn’t sway us. We spent plenty of scorching August afternoons burning our thighs on the metal bleachers of the upper decks. We even braved the cold, rainy weather during a game against the New York Giants in the late 90s. It’s probably the coldest I’ve ever been and I will never forget the feeling.

No matter what, cheering for the Cardinals just feels right for the Trujillo’s. The Bird Gang is very much ingrained in our history.

Speaking of history, Arizona has experienced some more success over the past few years. Several playoff appearances and even a magical Super Bowl run (minus the last 2:17) revitalized the Valley.

But now it looks like the team is rebuilding and wins could once again be hard to come by.

Before Arizona moved to State Farm Stadium, they experienced plenty of losses, even a 6-10 season in the final year before the year 2000.

So we now find ourselves in a familiar situation, low expectations and no chance from the “experts.”

And that is fine for this Cardinals fan. I’ll just party like it’s 1999.

My chat with Tiffiny Carlson from Life After Paralysis

This month, I had the pleasure of being a guest on the Life After Paralysis with Tiffiny Carlson podcast. We had a great conversation about how I became disabled and adjusted to life as a quadriplegic.

From learning to breathe again in the hospital to finding my first job, we covered a lot of topics.

To listen to my episode, head to the podcast website or the embed below.

What do you do when the future finally arrives?

One day at a time. That’s been my mantra for the past 25 years.

If the past two decades have taught me anything, it’s that life can change in an instant. In 1997, I was a shy 14-year-old with dreams of becoming the next Fox Mulder, searching for extraterrestrials with the FBI. Then a devastating illness sent me on a very different path.

I now use an electric wheelchair to get around and it’s been more than 9,000 days since I last walked on my own two feet. I now try to enjoy the here and now and not put too much thought into the future.

But as I approach my 40th birthday, my future is starting to appear closer than ever.

I never really thought much about what my life would be like in 20 years. It seemed too far away to give it much importance. Besides, any story about a 60-something quadriplegic generally involves some shady group home and a questionable nurse’s aide. Something I prefer not to think about too often.

While that future was anything but rosy, its impending arrival can’t be ignored.

My inevitable entrance into the 40 club has me taking stock of everything. Don’t get me wrong, I have lived an incredible life. Yes, I am disabled, but that doesn’t mean you have to feel sorry for me. My life has been plenty fulfilling and I have accomplished great things. But as I creep towards the back nine of my life, I’m realizing I am running out of time to achieve some of the things I have always dreamed about.

Dating, marriage and fatherhood are starting to feel more like pipe dreams than actually attainable goals with each passing year. As I have grown older, I have thought about these things a lot. According to my daydreams, I’d be a pretty good boyfriend, husband and father. But as of now, that’s all it is. A dream.

Watching “The 40-Year-Old Virgin” hits a little differently nowadays. 15 years ago, it was a hilarious, raunchy rom-com. Now, it’s more of a cruel, unintentional autobiography. A cinematic reminder of what I haven’t, and may never, experience.

As you read this, don’t be sad or depressed about my situation. I don’t think my life is unfulfilled. I’ve got to happily twirl my prom date across the dance floor, chat with Bill Murray and win a power soccer national championship. Everything that I may have missed over my life would have only improved my life. The proverbial cherry on top.

That being said, this year and starting my fourth decade on this earth may finally be what I need to get out of my comfort zone and get a little more adventurous. Have a little more fun in that present I’ve been going on about.

Who knows, maybe I can do my own time heist and find that magical future I’ve been dreaming of. If Captain America can do it, why can’t I?

It was the best week of my professional life. Here’s why.

What a week. The world set its sights on Arizona as Super Bowl LVII and the WM Phoenix Open were held in the Valley this month.

As a digital producer, I was right in the middle of the action and helped with the local coverage of the events. Ever since I started pursuing a career in journalism at ASU, I dreamed about covering a big sports story like this. And it finally happened.

For seven days, I was in the city that was the center of the sports and pop culture universe. It was easily the highlight of my journalism career.

Every day was a different event. From NFL Opening Night on Monday to the WM Phoenix Open Pro-Am on Wednesday, it was non-stop action.

The entire week from start to finish seemed like a non-stop stream of excitement. Rolling around downtown Phoenix and seeing all the sights and sounds was something I’d never experienced before. I haven’t seen an event of this scale before since I became a journalist. And it was all happening in my hometown.

We prepared for these events months ago and it still felt larger than life. Media from all over the world was in Phoenix and the downtown area felt more like New York or Las Vegas. There was just so much to experience.

Personally, one of the bigger highlights for me happened during opening night. As I was rolling around the Footprint Center and interacting with the players, I actually met a couple of other journalists in wheelchairs. I can’t begin to describe how cool it was to see other journalists like me. I always knew I wasn’t the only disabled journalist around, but seeing them in person was something I never thought I’d see.

Everywhere I went, most of the time I was the only disabled person in the room. But now I actually felt like one of the crew and finally belonged.

After seeing the other disabled journalists, they brought up the point of accessibility to the athletes.

For those in wheelchairs, reaching the podiums of the more prominent athletes like Patrick Mahomes or Jalen Hurts was impossible. The crowds and podium height made access to ask questions an issue. If I had Roger Goodell’s ear I would ask him to try and make these events more friendly and accessible to disabled journalists.

Aside from a couple of accessibility issues here and there, the entire week ran without a hitch. All of the events were exciting to attend and amazing to cover. The entire week is a time I will certainly not forget any time soon and I will always be thankful for the opportunity.

Why my future scares me to death

As we make our way through December and celebrate the holidays, those in the workforce are doing another annual tradition:

Annual reviews.

The year has come to an end and we take stock of our wins and losses over the previous year. But as I begin my look back, it’s my future that is at the front of my mind.

And it’s scaring me to death.

For those who need a refresher, to get through my day-to-day living, I require the assistance of a personal care aide. They assist me with every task I need, from getting up in the morning to going to bed at night, everything I do requires some form of help.

Over the past two decades, my dad has been my primary aide, helping me navigate the day-to-day. Without his help, I don’t know where I would be today.

But next year, he’s approaching his 70th birthday. And as much as I would love to freeze time and have him be my aide forever, it just doesn’t work that way. One day he will no longer have the ability to help me with my needs. And that day seems to be getting closer and closer.

I have only ever known my dad as my personal aide and thinking about needing someone else to take over that responsibility is absolutely frightening. I have heard horror stories from others about bad caregivers and I have been dreading the day when I would have to rely on someone else.

I’m afraid of losing the lifestyle I have grown to love. With my dad’s help and the support of the rest of my family, I have been able to live a very fruitful, enjoyable life and am very grateful for it. I have found my own sense of normalcy, a life with professional success and personal contentment.

But as I grow older, my life seems destined to evolve into something I won’t be able to recognize. I feel like I will need to make sacrifices to my lifestyle simply just to survive.

My fear of the future is a big reason why I try to focus on the here and now, and make the most out of my present. Uncertainty has clouded my future and it’s difficult to see anything familiar. But I am trying to conquer my fear.

Hope has brought me strength as I have navigated life as a quadriplegic, hopefully, it will now shed light on a bright future as well.

Here’s why I say 'no' when people ask if I need help

As a quadriplegic, I can’t do many things on my own. I’m what my social worker calls a “total assist.” From getting up in the morning to turning the page of a book, I need help with most daily tasks.

With that in mind, you would think asking for help would be second nature. But it absolutely terrifies me. These moments happen more often than you think. And it happens during different occasions and situations.

It occurs mostly during group activities. Someone will notice me perched in a corner or away from the group and ask if I need help.

I smile politely and respond with a calm, “no thanks, I’m good.” I normally don’t need help most of the time, it’s just me being introverted and shy. But there are moments when I actually do require assistance but decline help to avoid awkward interactions. Like when we eat meals in groups.

I dread attending events with food. For me, it’s a logistical nightmare. If I don’t have an aide or family member with me, trying to coordinate eating is a production, so I generally just avoid it altogether. There’s always someone who asks if I need help, but I always decline.

I am uneasy about it because a lot goes into assisting someone with eating and it’s not quite as simple as feeding a baby or child. Although it could get just as messy. When people ask, I’m afraid that they aren’t realizing what they’re getting into when they offer to help. So I decline since it’s the easiest solution.

After 25 years, you think I would have found a way to overcome this fear, but it is still very much at the center of my mind. I really do appreciate the offers for help, so I hope no one is ever offended when I decline assistance.

Maybe one day I can overcome that anxiety and be more open to accepting help from others. Until then, keep asking.

I became a quad 25 years ago. Here’s what my disability taught me.

It happened 25 years ago and I remember it like it was yesterday. I was 14 years old and fighting a cold. But on the early morning of Sept. 12, 1997, I stumbled out of my bed and into my parents’ room.

“I can’t breathe, I need to go to the ER,” I murmured.

My dad jumped out of bed and raced me down to the emergency room.

After being airlifted to a second hospital, I fell into a coma. Four days later, I awoke without the ability to move my arms and legs.

My life as a shy, quiet freshman in high school was no more. I was now a quadriplegic and scared out of my mind.

I would spend the next eight months in the hospital adjusting to my new life in a wheelchair. For the next 25 years, I navigated the highs and lows of being a person with a disability. I have learned a lot about myself and the world around me. Here are a few of the things I found:

• Patience is my superpower: When you rely on others for virtually every aspect of your life, you quickly develop a deep sense of patience. Whether it’s waiting for your strength to return or someone to change the channel on your TV, it has come in handy more often than you think.

• Never ever lose hope: It’s been two decades since I took my last steps, but I still try to move my arms and legs every morning when I wake up. Yes, my arms may never lift from my mattress, but that won’t keep me from trying.

• Success and happiness are a group effort: As much as I have accomplished over the past two decades, I couldn’t achieve any of it without my incredible family and friends. Their help has been invaluable and I will never be able to find enough words to thank them.

• Disability is not a death sentence: For years, having a disability has held a negative stigma. Being disabled meant you couldn’t have a fulfilling life or be happy. After being a wheelchair user for 25 years, I can safely say that couldn’t be further from the truth. Sure, having a disability isn’t ideal, but it doesn’t immediately mean your life isn’t worth living.

My life has taken plenty of twists and turns since I became a quadriplegic. I met some incredible people, saw some fantastic places and built a successful career. My disability has given me a valuable perspective for which I am forever grateful. 25 years have come and gone and I have learned so much. Here’s to hoping the next 25 years will lead to even more knowledge and growth.

20 Years Later: The moment I learned about the 9/11 attacks

I can't believe it's been 20 years already. Two decades since the deadly terrorist attacks on Sept. 11, 2001. That day changed the lives of many people, not just in the United States, but across the globe. And I remember exactly where I was when I heard the news.

It started out like every other day. I woke up in my bedroom and was trying to muster up enough energy to go to class. My first semester of college at Arizona State University just began that August, so it was a fresh experience for me. Suddenly, my mom bursts through the door.

"Gabe, a plane crashed into the World Trade Center," she exclaimed as she turned on the small TV in my room.

The screen flickered on to the special report airing on the Today Show. An image of one of the Trade Center buildings appeared and I could see smoke billowing from the side of it. I couldn't fathom what I was seeing. Then a black blur whizzed across the screen and an explosion occurred on the other tower.

"Was that a plane," mom asked clutching her hand over her mouth.

"I think so," I replied.

We sat there in my bedroom for what seemed like an eternity as we watched the events unfold that morning. While the coverage continued, my dad helped me get ready to go to class. Once I was ready, we went to the living room to continue watching the special report.

For the rest of the morning, we sat there stunned by what we were seeing transpire on the east coast. When it came time to head to campus, we didn't really know what to do. But reluctantly, we decided to go to class.

Once we arrived on campus, there was an eerie calm around. There wasn’t a crowd of kids rushing to class or guys trying to get you to sign up for another credit card. There were only a few people walking about.

As I entered my class at Neeb Hall, there were only a few students in the seats. Most of them decided to skip class, and it was not a bad idea. My professor didn’t talk about classwork, instead, we talked about the attacks before letting us leave early.

Since there were a couple of hours before my next class, I went to the Memorial Union for lunch. As I was eating downstairs, a large group of students was huddled around the TV in the lounge listening to the latest developments. As you could imagine there wasn’t much school work being done that day.

Every person in the room hung on the anchor’s every word as more information was shared throughout the day. New images from the Twin Towers, the Pentagon and the United 93 crash site brought many people to tears, me included.

The world we knew was gone, and many things would never be the same.

For the rest of the day, we just spent time hopping from class to class, talking about what happened that day. Many of the questions we had wouldn’t get answers for weeks and months.

The whole day was a surreal experience that will be stuck in the corner of my mind for as long as I will remember. It was a part of history that changed the landscape both in the U.S. and abroad.

Sept. 11, 2001 will forever be a dark day in our history, but we will always honor those souls who perished that day and never forget.