7 Years Ago

Dear Diary,

I think it’s getting easier.  I know I will never forget.  I want (but I don’t think I need) to write down the memories.  Just because I want to.  I’ve tried this several times but previous entries were lost.  Somewhere in a storage box in the attic is the collection of cards and notes made at that time.  One of these days, I want to go through it again.

I remember… The principal called my name over the p.a. system and asked me to meet him in my room. I was in the computer lab, trying out my e-mail address (was it my first ?)  Going downstairs I wondered if I had forgotten a meeting.  Gene met me in the hall and said he needed to tell me something. I think he took a breath and then said, “Karen,  R*** has been in an accident”.   I replied, “Where is he? I need to go to him”. I was told that Mr. G was in contact with the police on the scene to find out the extent of his injuries. Gene took me to the office where we proceeded to call hubby who was working out of state.  While tying to make contact, Mr. G. came into tell Gene that R had a broken leg and was be life-flighted to Hermann Hospital.  Hubby is told the information and he begins the 4-5 hour trip home.  When I asked Gene what I should do now, I heard the special ed. counselor say, “Get your stuff. I’m taking you to the hospital.”  My stuff appears and I’m out the door.  As I leave, R’s soccer coach is coming in, looks me straight in the face and says, “Hang in there mama. He’s gonna be okay”.  Looking back on that “scene” I now know that he knew more about the injuries at that time than I did and he was trying to be strong for me. 

The 35-40 mile trip took about 35 minutes, during 5 o’clock traffic.  (S. is a helluva driver)! I kept saying, “I can deal with a broken leg, I can even deal with a broken arm”. I never thought the injuries would be more serious than that. A week prior I had a conversation with someone who said life flight was making more trips out to our community, especially for the very old or  young even if it wasn’t critical, just to be safe.  Thinking back on that comment makes no sense.  Life flight comes when it’s deemed necessary to save lives.  S. drives right up to the emergency room and lets me out.  I identify myself as the mother of the young man brought in on life flight. I am literally escorted to another area of the hospital and taken into a private waiting room and left with another nurse.  Within minutes, S. comes in and my cousin Ron shows up.  I had called his mom to go out to my mom’s to be with my folks and she called him. All  I knew when I called her was that R was in an accident and I was going to him. I think she realized it might be serious and she sent Ron to be with me.  [Before I left school, I also tried to call my sister and had to enlist the help of my minister to do that. I learned later that before I could even contact my extended family, the prayer chain at church went out. In fact, the prayer chain at several church went out within hours.  Word had reached the administration building, where meetings were in session, that a student from ***High School and the son of a teacher was in an accident.] 

I remember…  rocking back and forth on the couch and holding my stomach and telling the nurse that I thought I was going to throw up. She looked at me and asked if I was pregnant. When I said no, she replied that only pregnant women could throw up in that room.  I must have been in shock (or something close to it) because I accepted the answer.  At some point, I’m asked to sign a release for surgery and I signed.  At some point R’s angel, Lynn, the Life Flight nurse came to speak with me.  Maybe all these points were going on at the same time.  Things were kinda busy. 

I remember…Lynn describing his injuries. She said when she arrived on the scene she asked him his name and age and he replied. He said he was having trouble breathing.  She said he tried to fight her when she tried to put in an air tube.  She said she knew she had a fighter in her hands and he was going to make it. Then she told me that he was  in critical condition. I asked her to please tell me that he was in serious, serious condition because I could handle that better. She looked me straight in the eyes and said, “He’s in very critical condition.”

There’s more.  I’ll continue.  It’s now 6:28 p.m. CST.  I was in a private waiting room while my son was in the first of three surgeries at this time…

…seven years ago.

~Susie