It was 8 years ago today… Here is the account of Christians accident written by his Dad, my hero. Restoring of Family – Even Flesh and Blood Three men on bikes A father and two sons A sport bike and two Harleys The sun on my face The wind in my hair The November countryside fills my senses Two-lane Texas highway 3 rail fences and livestock The expansive fields going brown Running at 70 Side by side Life is good The Sportbike is passing Christian is passing The mini-van The sound of acceleration Then the sight of hesitation Just past the Mini-van An oncoming truck A red 250 Ford Coming A sense of danger Then a flash of anger About the unnecessary risk Alarm comes up from my stomach And rushes to my head As it becomes clear My boy is not aware Of the oncoming Ford The grill becomes large The screech of the brakes The sway of the truck The explosion The vehicles collide head-on The echo of the impact lingers The bike debris fills the air I shout out The moment processes slowly Time slows, reality dulls The scene is a blur I’m braking hard Rear wheel sliding The sport-bike appears The engine centered on the road I shift to avoid it My son Keith on the Harley Is within inches of me I move back to the center We ride through a curtain A film from the debris The road opens up We finally stop I see Christian On the side of the road He is on his side Gray and motionless His tongue hanging out and down Eyes closed No left arm at all Left leg wide open I roll him on his back I look at his face I recognize death My son is not present I lay on his chest And I wail My cry is unknown to me I finally rise up I lose strength in my knees I fall and cry I rise up again A woman approaches An off duty EMT I state he is dead We will need an ambulance To carry the body “No he’s not” And I look back He is breathing hard His chest is rising and dropping He is drawing deep breaths We rush back to him His color is back Eyes closed tight He is writhing in pain He feels the pain He speaks his first words “Stop…stop…stoooooop!” More off duty EMT’s We hold him still Bungee cord tourniquets First the arm, then the leg Leg open mid thigh to ankle I pick grass from the wound The femur visibly in two As flesh and muscle are gone Where is the ambulance? Time begins to slow Reality nudges me I feel dim A man approaches He has my son’s arm The familiar gray color He carries it with one hand From the elbow His arm hangs down on either side The man places it on the road A vein protrudes From the gray lifeless limb His fingernails seem unusual On his motionless hand The image stays with me still Time drags on now The sheriff arrives They carefully question I finally see and acknowledge my son Keith As the sheriff asks questions It is surreal The hear the ambulance This interrupts questions We anticipate the sight The ambulance arrives They access the scene They prepare to move him The gurney Backwards now corrected Into the ambulance We wait on the Life-flight The loss of blood threatens Chris is semi-conscious EMT’s communicate with each other “The left arm is severed” My Chris asks, “Whaaat?” My heart sinks The sound of the helicopter The expectation The quick info exchange The move to the helicopter I can’t ride with my son The Life-flight lifts off I feel weak I sob on my knees I see Keith again He says he is ok With tear filled eyes and a shrug We walk past the Fire-truck Hosing the road Of accident debris We arrive at the F-250 A boy of 25 His sister and mother Are you the driver? He nods his head yes It’s not your fault I call my wife Barbara With Keith’s cell phone To relay the news Chris has been hurt A broken leg I say See you at the hospital Keith and I return to the scene The sheriff offers a ride We discuss and decline Keith wants to ride We ride to the hospital To Hermann Memorial We ride through Houston’s downtown The accident and scene Flash through my mind I physically shutter each time The scene runs through my head I try to reason why We stop for needed gas Share a bottle of water We discuss the accident briefly We arrive at the hospital We see Barbara and Joanna His fiancée came also I pull them aside I tell them the truth They collectively yelp Barbara reminds me of my dreams Of Chris with no arms Two months earlier We huddle and cry We search each other eyes No one has answers We go to ER Chris on the bed Pool of blood on the floor Dark rich scarlet red The blood seems to stack Rather than run Chris is talking to us some He asks Joanna for a kiss Then taken to surgery We wait in a hallway Outside of the STICU waiting room We sit on the tile floor We wait in silence Sense on time escapes me I feel numb The surgeon suddenly appears We need to take the leg He is in trouble up there Joanna cries out in a burst I can’t seem to process My wife, my Barbara, nods yes Later the surgeon reappears He has survived the surgery There are concerns of blood loss He has a good chance Of making it if He can hang on for 48 hours Friends of Chris and family Begin to appear The gathering consumes the hallway Night turns to day The crowd goes back home Our waiting begins We wait in the STICU waiting area And take turns visiting Christian In bed number 10 The walk up the stairs Two at a time To STICU A The sterilized smell of the stairwell Prepares and reminds us Of the world we are about to enter Christian is tagged on his wrist Life Flight identified him as “Uniform 957” He has a hose down his throat To assist with his breathing And more up his nose IV’s pump fluids Wires check vitals Our Christian fights on Christian’s features are bloated His eyelids can’t close He looks battered, beaten, and bruised The various responses From visitors of Christian Teach us to prepare visitors first Christian’s condition Improves every day Everything is relative Five days in STICU Five nights on the waiting room floor As we begin to take shifts We meet and share tragedies With families of other wounded And admitted to Hermann We see families defeat death We see some that do not Tears, sorrow, and hope fill this place More operations for Chris Plastic surgeons will close His wounds we call stumps A skin graph taken from Chris Placed over the stumps The tendon sown I pray for my son When I haven’t for years It seems curiously right On day three He begins to respond To voice commands Subtle movements in his fingers Then he wiggles his toes We celebrate each victory His progress is slow Progress seems steady His prognosis is good We give thanks to the Lord For saving our Chris From near certain death Chris begins to pull at his tubes As the conciseness resumes And aggravation sets in He becomes more restless Delirium becomes his companion As day turns to night Chris comes to know us Recognition then fallacy Worry follows hope ICU psychosis is warned They move him to a room On the fifth floor Dr. Red Duke visits later He states Chris needs better care We go back to SIMU the next day Three more days and nights Delirium stays more than goes Our Chris struggles within Long sleepless nights My Barbara is strong Unwavering determination I have known for years that my Barbara is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Recently, it has become clear that she is the best thing that could happen to anybody. Chris becomes stronger Delirium disappears during the day He is moved to Floor 6 Re-Hab discussions bring hope His memory is coming back Our Chris is returning Day 16 brings the first restful night We feel some weight Lifted from Christian Christian comes home To finish healing his stumps A month after the explosion He is in good spirits We are a thankful bunch As Christmas approaches When Chris is told that our definition of “normal” has to change. He rejects it. He says “Normal is two arms and two legs, I’m not normal, but I really wasn’t all that normal before the accident…and I’m ok with that. I continue to learn from Chris From our family and friends My heart has been opened like never before Our family will gather for Christmas The Sun is warm on my face Life’s simple pleasures are recognized Chris overcomes struggles that life presents He transitions remarkably back into the game His attitude and perspective make me proud My son stood today He is making his way Life is good
Posted on: Wed, 13 Nov 2013 17:25:16 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015