At 17, my world shrunk to the size of a cell. When you are sentenced to eight years, time becomes your greatest enemy or your most potent resource. I chose the latter.
Six weeks ago, hardware failures (my left elbow, hand, and wrist) took me offline. In 2020, it was my left tibia. In 1996, it was my freedom.
The systems that held when everything else shattered. A technical post-mortem on surviving catastrophic personal and professional failure—and what the rebuild looks like at the code level.