“You never know how strong you are…until being strong is the only choice you have.” —Bob Marley
It has been more than two years since the accident, yet somehow it often feels as though we are still wandering around lost in the wilderness. Sometimes it appears like we have found our way onto a path that looks vaguely familiar, but then it seems to disappear without a trace. Realizing it is nothing more than a mirage, as we look down to see the sand running through our fingers. My hope is one day we will look back at this time in our lives and it will make sense to us. For the time being though, it feels life is a jumble of words we do not understand. A language foreign to our ears that we must learn to speak if we are to survive. So, we cling to one another, pushing our bodies against the wind that threatens to blow us away. In between the two of us we hold the small hands of two small children.
In a city I did not know, all alone, I walked up the road leading to the Emergency Room. Fear pulsed through my body. I was unsure what state I would find him in. I had been told to be prepared for swelling from his facial injuries. I was afraid of that, and so much more. I didn’t know how I was supposed to prepare myself. I still don’t.
One of his coworkers who had been at the scene picked me up from the airport. He filled in some of the details, but no one had been allowed into Chris’ room. His coworker had not seen him since he was loaded into the ambulance many hours earlier. It had been six hours since he fell from the sky. I wondered what had transpired in those precious hours. I fought to keep it together, sitting beside a stranger who clearly cared about Chris, also in distress over his well being. He attempted to reassure me, as he worked to reassure himself as well. A conversation between two people doing their very best to act normal in a very abnormal situation. Again I will use this word. Surreal.
As I entered the double doors leading into the Emergency Room I tried to act brave. I asked the security guard which room my husband lay in. His eyes told me they had been expecting me. The moment I saw Chris I knew his injuries were not superficial. He lay on the hospital bed not moving, attached to monitors and IVs. Thankfully, except for the dried blood under his nose, his face looked perfect. A doctor sat in the corner typing his information into a computer. He did not turn to face me. He was busy making sure his patient would get the best care he could provide.
Relief filled me when Chris recognized me immediately, clearly grateful someone he loved was finally standing beside him. He had gone through the first six hours alone, surrounded by strangers working to save his life. It must have been unbelievably scary. I was thankful to be beside him, showing my love and support, hoping he felt less afraid because I was there with him.
He was in so much pain. I could see it in his face, and I could see it in the way his chest moved when he breathed. Over and over again he asked for water. He was so thirsty, but I could do very little to quench his thirst. Surgery was imminent. I tried to get my bearings, thrown into the deep end, quickly understanding that the journey before us was going to be a hard one. Among his numerous injuries, the most critical being a burst fracture in his lower back. His future was uncertain. There was hope though. He was still here, and he knew where he was. I think he was stable. He had feeling in both of his legs, though, not fully in his left. Emergency spinal surgery was discussed. He would be thirsty for a while longer. I tried to comfort him, and he was so strong, but his injuries were beyond comforting. Eighty feet does a lot of damage. I sat beside him powerless, in a busy Friday night Emergency Room with sounds of pain all around us, thankful my husband and the father of our two children was still alive. We had almost lost him. I would find out as the days went by, and I talked to those who knew, his accident was not survivable. Neither from a medical nor a professional standpoint. Yet, somehow he had survived. I now believed in miracles.
Search for Solid Ground 