From the track to the bed — still racing forward through pain, advocacy, and purpose.
Support the Fight – DonateMy name is Luke Taylor, and I'm a 50-something C5-C6 quadriplegic living in Phoenix, Arizona. My life split into two very different chapters on September 30, 2018.
Before that day, I was deeply immersed in the world of motorsports. I worked as a parts and service manager for a large motorcycle shop, where I handled everything from wrenching on bikes to helping customers gear up for motocross and off-road adventures.
I loved motocross...the adrenaline of the track, the dirt flying, the roar of engines...and I was just as passionate about car racing, whether it was watching high-speed circuits or hitting the desert trails in dune buggies with friends. Life was active, hands-on, full of speed and the smell of fuel and rubber.
That all ended in an instant during a dune buggy accident while off-roading and camping. Another rider cut across my path unexpectedly; I had to swerve suddenly to avoid a collision, lost control, hit a tree, and was ejected from the vehicle. I broke my neck, severing my spinal cord at the C5-C7 levels. I woke up in the ICU on a ventilator to breathe, completely paralyzed from the shoulders down; quadriplegic, with no use of my legs, minimal arm function (mostly just shoulder shrugs and some bicep control), and completely reliant on others for nearly every daily task. I was weaned off the ventilator during inpatient rehab, but the nerve damage was permanent.
The immediate aftermath was brutal: extended hospital stays, rehab, learning to live in a body that no longer responded. I've undergone eight surgeries in total to address complications from the injury. Two of those were in Denver with world-renowned neurosurgeon Dr. Scott Falci (at the Falci Institute for Spinal Cord Injuries, affiliated with Craig Hospital), traveling there for specialized procedures related to post-traumatic spinal cord issues like tethered cord syndrome and adhesive arachnoiditis.
But the true ongoing nightmare has been the non-stop, intractable nerve pain from adhesive arachnoiditis (along with tethered cord syndrome).
This rare and vicious condition delivers 24/7 burning, stabbing, throbbing, crushing agony throughout my body, like electric fire that never stops. Because of the severity of this pain, I'm now 100% bedbound, unable to sit up, transfer, or move much without it becoming unbearable.
The healthcare system has repeatedly failed me. Hospitals and doctors often refuse to provide adequate pain treatment out of fear of DEA scrutiny and opioid regulations. I've fought endless battles with providers, insurance, and the system itself...left to endure levels of suffering that would break most people, all while being told below-level chronic pain in spinal cord injury cases like mine isn't "treatable" enough or is too risky to manage properly.
It took two full years of fighting my government insurance plan (AHCCCS) to get approval for a power wheelchair with a standing feature...one that could finally allow me to leave my bed for periods of time, improve circulation, reduce complications from being bedbound, and give me back some independence. The process was grueling: multiple delays, denials, and an administrative hearing that was postponed three times. Then, miraculously, just one day before the latest scheduled hearing (as of late January 2026), I received the approval, thanks to the lawyers at DRAZ (Disability Rights Arizona). It's a massive victory after so much persistence and advocacy, and I'm still processing the relief and excitement of what this could mean for my daily life.
In the years since the accident, I've chased every possible avenue for hope. Around 2020, I got involved in experimental clinical trials in Southern California, participating in Neuro-cell (AXER-204) therapies and other cutting-edge approaches aimed at repairing spinal damage or reducing pain. There were some media stories and small glimmers, but no complete turnaround; recovery from severe SCI remains slow, fractured and limited.
After the accident, I found a new way to stay connected to my lifelong passion for racing: I got involved in RC car racing (and slot car racing too). It's something I can engage with from bed, using adaptive tools and voice software. Today, I help my mom with the 3D CAD design work for mx69.com racing. We create and sell custom parts specifically for slot car and RC car racing hobbyists. From detailed chassis components to timing tools and LED signs, it's creative, technical work that lets me contribute to the hobby community I still love, even if I can no longer ride or drive myself.
I've kept sharing my raw story on Facebook under "Luke Taylor: Chapter 2," posting about the relentless daily reality, the adhesive arachnoiditis pain, the advocacy needs for better chronic pain care and adaptive equipment access in the disabled community, and how the system abandons so many of us. I've joined additional trials in recent years, still pushing for any relief from the nerve pain.
As of now in 2026, I'm still here...paralyzed, bedbound, in constant agony, battling a healthcare landscape that too often prioritizes fear over compassion; but I'm not silent, and things are shifting. I've lost my career, my mobility, my home, vehicles, active life in motocross and car racing, but I've held onto purpose through RC and slot car work, through speaking up for others facing similar invisible battles, and now through this hard-won wheelchair approval that opens new possibilities. If my voice helps drive change in pain management, faster approvals for essential equipment, more research, more education or just reminds one person they're not alone in this fight, then this hard Chapter 2 has real meaning.
Life threw me this devastating curve, but I'm still swinging from the bed...and finally getting a chance to stand (literally) again.
Approved! (Late Jan 2026)
Thanks to DRAZ advocacy and AHCCCS – now working toward delivery and setup.
Ongoing Support Needed
For potential therapies, equipment mods, home accessibility, and daily care amid unrelenting arachnoiditis pain.
Surplus funds will support mobility/service dog training, accessible vehicle mods, or donations to others fighting similar battles.