Unbroken by a Single Blade
How Disability and a New Mindset Transformed My Life

By Joshua Kolsrud

 

In the blink of an eye, everything can change.
-By Joshua Kolsrud

For me, that moment came on a February night in 2002, when an ordinary evening spiraled into chaos. The Mardi Gras celebration in Tempe, had been vibrant, filled with laughter, and the buzz of life all around. But as I walked outside, my world collided violently with a stranger’s rage. A careless bump, a few words exchanged, and then the flash of a blade.

As I lay bleeding on the cold ground, one thought cycled through my mind, absurd in its persistence: “My parents are going to kill me.”

It wasn’t the fear of death that gripped me, but the strange certainty that I would survive and have to explain myself. Somehow, in that ridiculous worry, was the first glimmer of hope — I was going to live.

 

A Trial of Mind, Body and Spirit

What followed was a trial of mind, body and spirit. Eighteen surgeries. Skin grafts. Nerve transplants. An unrelenting regimen of recovery, where pain was a constant companion. But the loss of function in my left arm was not the only thing I had to learn to live with. In the aftermath, my identity unraveled. Who I had been—invincible, unshakable—was gone, and in his place was someone I had been humbled, my path uncertain.

In those early days, I clung to the only thing I could — goals. Small promises I made to myself to keep the pain at bay. Finish college. Graduate summa cum laude. Get into law school. Each task felt monumental in the shadow of my disability, but they became my anchors, keeping me from being swept away by despair.

Looking back, I see both bravery and naivety in that younger version of myself. I thought I could will my way through the pain, pretend the injury hadn’t fundamentally altered me. But growth doesn’t come from ignoring reality; it comes from confronting it. Over time, I realized that my journey wasn’t about overcoming physical limitations. It was about learning to live differently, seeing the world through a new lens, and becoming someone stronger.

For years, I resisted acknowledging how profoundly I had been changed. But eventually, reality set in. My disability forced me to pause, to reflect on the fragility of life in a way I never had before. It opened my eyes to a well of empathy I hadn’t known existed—an understanding of suffering that nothing else could have taught me.

Ted Campagnolo, the prosecutor who took on my case, became the light that guided me through that transformation. He was everything I aspired to be—sharp, relentless, driven by a fierce sense of justice. My attacker had hired the most expensive defense lawyer in Arizona, but Ted dismantled their case with precision and conviction. For three hours, I sat on the witness stand, reliving the most terrifying night of my life, while Ted fought for the truth. When the verdict was delivered—guilty on all counts—I knew I wanted to stand where Ted stood. As the man who tried to destroy me was sentenced to 12.5 years in prison, I realized I wanted to be the one fighting for justice.

I began my career at the Maricopa County Attorney’s Office, the same office where Ted had worked. Over the next 14 years, I threw myself into the role, fighting for victims just as Ted had fought for me. My journey led me to the South Pacific, where I helped rescue hundreds of Filipino girls from the horrors of human sex trafficking. It took me to the Coconino County Attorney’s Office, where I handled high-profile cases involving the most heinous crimes—sex offenses and homicides. Finally, I reached the pinnacle at the U.S. Attorney’s Office, handling some of the most complex criminal cases of my career.

But I was living in silent pain. Though I rely on voice recognition software to get through my workload, most of my time is spent typing with one hand. Simple tasks—carrying files, shuffling papers in the courtroom—become cumbersome in ways I never imagined. It also took an emotional toll.

Fortunately, a friend had introduced me to Buddhism and meditation. I developed a new understanding of struggle, a profound empathy for those who face battles unseen. It opened my eyes to the quiet strength that exists in the face of adversity. I began viewing my suffering, not as a burden, but as an opportunity for growth.

Part of that growth has been learning to adapt—both in life and in my career. I’ve relearned the things I once took for granted—tying my shoes, a tie, fishing, playing video games one handed. Each day still presents challenges, and while meditation has helped, the chronic nerve pain and the paralysis is always there. It is part of me, but it doesn’t define me.

 

Josh Kolsrud is a criminal defense attorney at Kolsrud Law Offices. He was also an Assistant U.S. Attorney and spent 14 years as a prosecutor. 

http://www.KolsrudLawOffices.com