“Wait, Scaia was in a car crash?” you might be thinking to yourself. “Because he, like, never talks about it.”

This week marks ten years since the crash that would ultimately become the comeback story of the year. It just happens to be the comeback story of the year following the crash.

But I’m feeling much better now.

Reliant Energy invited me to a gingerbread house contest this week to raise money for charity. I now volunteer with traumatic brain injury patients at the Baylor Institute for Rehabilitation, so I asked them if they had a place in mind. They suggested a camp for people who survived a traumatic brain injury.

I went to the contest with another volunteer and we went to work. The theme was “12 Days of Christmas.” We started strategizing a couple days ahead of time. Since each TBI recovery is different, we thought we might focus on the 12 drummers drumming because we all march to the beat of a different drum.

But then we showed up to basket after basket of fixin’s.

“This is getting serious,” I frowned. I started worrying we were completely unprepared.

I started looking around at everyone else’s gingerbread houses. My associate explained I should stop comparing our work to others, explaining that was the exact opposite of the point we were trying to make.

We had Santa do some drumming, but we were rookies. Our finished product featured several days of Christmas, including a cashew partridge, marshmallow French hen and Reese’s golden ring.

Reliant even brought a professional photographer to document our work. Another volunteer saw the picture and explained, “You look so darn cute.” She presents a strong point: We may not have won Best in Show (The team from the Dallas Zoo designed a lake for the swans a-swimming because they, you know, represent a zoo), but we can still take the People’s Choice Award. You can vote Scaia here.

Our gingerbread house was simple, but didn’t this holiday start with something simple? Baby Jesus in a quiet gingerbread house with a marshmallow French hen guarding the door while Santa rocked out on the roof. Maybe the three wise men caught a fever from all that myrrh and the only prescription was more gumball.

A therapist who came to cheer us on [by which I, of course, mean, “settle me down”] has said recovery from a TBI gives someone a chance to “find their why.”

An associate who has since moved on to the great gingerbread house in the sky really captured my essence after the crash.

Baylor Rehab matches survivors with mentors to help them succeed outside the hospital. I wouldn’t recommend almost dying in a car crash, but if you do, you can be mentored by a former patient such as myself, who can help you recover and become the best insubordinate malcontent you can!