Eleven seconds into his first shift as a hockey player at Boston University, Travis Roy slammed into the boards and fractured his fourth and fifth cervical vertebrae. He was paralyzed from the neck down. He was 20 years old.

Roy has been a quadriplegic since that October night in 1995. He also has been an inspiration for others who have suffered serious, life-altering injuries. A year after his injury, Roy returned to Boston University. He graduated four years later with a degree in public relations. Roy became a motivational speaker and author, writing a book about his experiences with Sports Illustrated’s E.M. Swift called “Eleven Seconds: A Story of Tragedy, Courage & Triumph.”

He also started the Travis Roy Foundation, a nonprofit program that, according to his website, “focuses on finding a cure for spinal cord injuries and provides grants to spinal cord injury survivors in financial need to help them purchase the costly adaptive equipment necessary to live more active and independent lives.”

I talked to Roy about what lies ahead for Jack Jablonski, the Benilde-St. Margaret’s hockey player paralyzed after a check from behind into the boards on Dec. 30.

BS: Have you had a chance to talk with Jack?

TR: I’ve received a number of emails about him. I have sent an email to Mike, his father. I said I’m open to talking at his convenience. If it works out that I talk to Jack or his father, I would be happy to do it. I don’t want them to feel obligated to get back to me. I get emails at different times about injuries. I haven’t ever received as many emails about a spinal cord injury as I have about Jack’s. The hockey community is unlike any other as far as the support that goes on.

BS: What advice can you share that might help Jack and his family while he deals with the early stages of his life-changing injury?

TR: I don’t know that there’s anything. It’s a time of sadness and a time of loss. At least that’s what it was for me. The first few weeks, the first few months, the first year, you’re grateful for the outpouring of support. You just can’t deny the sadness and loss and the changes in lives. There are so many unanswered questions about how it’s all going to work. There’s a lot to sink in, and it will and slowly they will start to move forward and make decisions.

BS: Based on your experiences, when is it toughest to come to grips with what lies ahead? Is it now? Or, is it months from now?

TR: I don’t think it starts until you start to do things where you’re transitioning to reality. There’s reality with being in (the hospital). But I’m talking about the reality of what the future is going to be. That’s the challenging part. That’s when it really hits. That’s when it sinks in. What do we have to do to the home to make it accessible? What is the cost? Just getting into the wheelchair for me the first time, it was a good day and progress and you’re out of the house. But there’s the same reality that you’re going to be in that wheelchair an awfully long time. That’s what I mean about those moments of reality that are just hard to swallow. For Jack, this has got to be the worst being confined like he is. Then the rehab is slow and tedious and you think, “This is going to be the worst.” For me, what sticks in my mind is the day I slept for the first time in my bed where my parents live. There was a comfort of being in the hospital. There are doctors and nurses and support. You get home and there are no doctors, no nurses, no support. That’s when you realize you’re on your own.

BS: Is there a template for how to deal with such a devastating injury, or is it different for every one?

TR: In my email to Mike (Jablonski), that was my exact response. There is no handbook. There is no template. Every single spinal cord injury is different. The way your bladder works. The way your body reacts when something is wrong. Every injury is different. The good part is, there is amazing technology out there. There is very adaptive equipment. There are resources. One thing I would like to emphasize is that, in my experience, the only thing that makes things easier – and I hate to say this – is money. The more financial resources raised and will be there for the family and for Jack (the better it will be). I’d like to say the cure is right around the corner. I fear it’s a little further than that. Whatever the community can do for Jack (to ensure) he’ll have the right computer, the right wheelchair, the home modifications as well as having a van (is important). You can live an amazingly productive life with a catastrophic disability like quadriplegia, but only when you have the resources.

BS: Is the most important thing acceptance and then a willingness to move forward in life?

TR: My experience is everybody’s different. I’ve known people who’ve accepted it and moved on. There are people who find happiness in this condition as well as when they were able-bodied. That is rare. I’m far from that myself. Acceptance, that word is never going to work for me. The thing I found is, in the beginning you try to get hour to hour. Then you get to day to day. Then you get week to week and it’s a little easier. Then it’s month to month. It took me seven years, and then I got to year to year. My first four years, I went back to college and learned my body. There are medical complications from time to time. It takes a lot of time to figure out how your body works again.

BS: How long before someone stops asking why? Or does that go on forever?

TR: There are a couple of things that people assume that I’ve found not to be all that true. I’ve never had the why. I never asked that. I don’t spend much time on that. For some people, absolutely (they ask). I don’t think you can assume that. Another thing you can’t assume is, you can’t assume depression, either. I never went through depression. There is sadness. For me, absolute sadness that my hockey dreams were over, that my career was over. I was sad for my parents. But there wasn’t depression.

BS: Do you ever give up hope that one day there will be a surgery or procedure that can make you walk again?

TR: Hope is a fantastic thing. Hope is a wonderful thing. It makes looking into the future easier. There certainly is a big difference between a spinal cord injury and a degenerative disease like Lou Gehrig’s (disease), where every day it gets a little worse. There is kind of that little bit of hope.

BS: You appear to be leading a fulfilling and inspirational life. How long did it take you to decide you were going to return to school and get your degree, and realize that while the injury could take away your ability to walk, it couldn’t take away your drive and spirit?

TR: I think that goes back to what I mentioned. I was never depressed. There’s also a numbness I went through. I was on a ventilator a couple of months. The thing Jack is going to have is his athletic background, which is great. One of the metaphors I use is, when you’re in a hockey game and losing 10-0, you never quit, you hold your chin up and finish. I’ve always had a strong sense of pride – pride in myself. It helped add to my drive to get back to Boston University. I didn’t want to let my parents down. Similar to Jack, there was a lot of money raised. Thousands of cards came into the hospital. Kids opened their piggy banks. I didn’t want to let those people down. Today, that’s what drives me. I’ll never forget the sacrifices people made to make my life a little better.