hard to think about... nine months ago, I almost lost my oldest son. It was 8pm. I was sitting in a dark movie theater alone... I had never been to a movie alone before. My daughter and a friend were watching a movie somewhere else in the building, so I went to enjoy alone time... I got a text from Alex at 8:03 saying "hey"... I replied that I was in a movie... at 8:06 I received a text from my husband saying, " call me 911"
worst feeling ever as I ran out of the theater, down the corridor to the exit, tried to locate my car while in a panic, find rides home for the girls I was abandoning in the theater behind me, call two friends to alert them that I was headed to the hospital and had no idea what was going on...
I arrived at Durham Regional Hospital as Scott drove up with our son... My son who is taller than anyone in our home, the most athletic child, the strongest young man I know, was folded in half in a wheelchair, moaning/crying and did not recognize me as his mother... In that moment, I immediately knew it was beyond horrible. I could not process anything for the next few moments.
As we moved to the back of the hospital to the emergency room, lots of people came in and out. Scans were done, doctors spoke, nurses flew in and out... and then there was the declaration of skull fracture, brain contusions, brain bleed... life flight needed to Duke Hospital... It all happened so quickly that I struggled to stay on top of things and be able to hear each word... I wrote notes in my phone so I could remember phrases and diagnoses... meanwhile, Alex went silent. He made no noise except for random loud moans that could make my heart rip out of my chest and bleed silently on the floor...
no parent should ever hear these noises
It was a parental hell in which I wanted to escape, yet I could not move. The waiting room filled quickly with my parents, close friends, small group members... their texts to us back in the back depths of the hospital kept me focused and sane... their presence meant that people were praying for my baby boy who was laying in front of me hurting and unconscious. I was unable to pray that night... sadly it never came to mind. I was so intently focused on every syllable that uttered from any person in scrubs. I paced floors, held my child's hand without his knowledge, and wanted to scream. I would have laid on the table beside him if allowed. Heck, I would have hit my own head and taken all of the injury just to allow him to walk out... but he did not wake up.
He had three MRI's in the span of four hours. Each one was worse than the previous one. He was labeled a Level Two Brain injury... there are seven levels and level one is the absolute worst and close to death. He had 30 electrodes placed on his head to monitor for seizures... I was transfixed on the monitors and the IV of which he had 5 bags hanging and draining into his arm. He had an open wound on his right palm... actively dripping blood on to the floor... I begged a doctor to please get someone to dress that wound... it was at that moment where I learned that this was so much worse and more horrible than I had even allowed myself to believe... "If he makes it through the next 24 hours, we will worry with his hand..."
no parent should ever hear these words
I did not sleep Sunday night... Heck, I rarely slept that week. Scott finally went home Monday night to check on our other two kids and get a suitcase packed for the hospital... we agreed to alternate nights in the hospital so our other two kids could see us and hopefully not fully understand how serious our sweet baby boy's injuries were... As a mother, I desperately needed to protect all three of my children... from everything... I realized that I can not do that at all. We merely existed Monday, Tuesday, and half of Wednesday... there are many stories from those days... many miracles... many more heartaches and fears... many visits from family and friends who had words of encouragement and prayers of healing... I would love to say that they meant so much to me and encouraged me... But my only focus was my baby boy... I would see him in that bed... almost too long for it, messy blonde hair from the glue left from the electrodes, unable to move, unable to speak, struggling with communication, rarely aware of his surroundings, and yet I would only see a little 16 month old toddler walking out of an orphanage and into my heart... hoping desperately that he would walk again and be able to speak to me...
no parent should ever have these fears
Wednesday afternoon, they brought in a tall walker... it was a struggle, but he made it down a hall... I cried as he left the room. Scott walked with Alex and his therapist, but I could not budge. I was too emotional to stand up from the chair... I was in shock that he could do it but devastated to see my strong, tree climbing child struggle to walk... It was almost too much. It took a lot out of him and so he then slept for 6 hours (minus the constant waking for neuro-checks).
Thursday, they did not bring a walker... yet, Alex walked. He walked a lap around the entire floor. His neuro-surgeon and residents were standing in the hallway - they gave him double takes... and triple takes, then stopped by our room to ask me "was that really just Alex that sped passed us?" We could see him getting better. But Alex could not speak. The moan/groan that he made when attempting to speak was disturbing, loud, and unrecognizable. The doctors said it would be anywhere from 12 months to never before he could talk... it could be that he would have no speech ever. With brain injuries as serious as his, one could not predict anything... I was happy to have him alive. We would deal with the language... just give me my child to take home.
Alex had a 2.5 inch skull fracture, two brain contusions, and a 18mm brain bleed that were all located at the communication center area of the brain... He could understand what we were saying. He could write some (his handwriting was amazingly better than anything he had ever written). He could use hand signals or point to pictures on a communication board. But he could not make any sounds close to words.
Back to Sunday night - Alex had returned home from working in Oklahoma around 5:30pm. He had taken his brother to go bowling. The bowling alley was packed, so they came home and he decided to take his long board out and go for a ride. Alex is 20 years old... he has ridden skateboards, skim boards, ripsticks, and long boards since he was five. He is crazy coordinated and talented on these things. He understands parkour and knows how to jump off and land softly... He left the house on his longboard around 7:30pm. Around 8pm, Alex sent me a snapchat of him riding his board on a flat surface having fun somewhere in our neighborhood... less than five minutes later, his doctor predicts that he was hit by a car due to his injuries. He had a severe blow to the head on his left side and then all his abrasions were on his right hand, arm, hip, side, leg... Alex was able to have the clarity of mind to text me then try to call Scott. However, when Scott answered the phone, Alex could not speak. He could not say where he was, what happened, or anything. Scott immediately got in the car and started hunting for him. By the time he found him, Alex could not walk and could not speak and did not recognize my mother. Scott drove him to the hospital. At the arrival there, Alex could not move, could not communicate at all, did not know who we were or where he was... it was 8:25pm. We were admitted at 8:35, travelled in the Life Flight ambulance (scott and alex only) at 9:40... Spent numerous hours in the neurological ER at Duke before being admitted to the Neuro ICU at 3am Monday early morning.... it was all a blur and whirlwind.
Thursday evening, we were able to move to the step down unit on the Neuro Floor... then every hour was an improvement with still no words... He was able to put on real clothes. He could bathe himself if Scott was in there in case he got dizzy. He could decide his own meals and request food from area restaurants that I would call friends and make happen... but he did not speak. He took walks and even climbed several flights of stairs to the rooftop in order to see the life flight helicopter and meet the pilots. We took tons of pictures and were finally hopeful that we would leave the hospital...
Sunday... exactly one week from the scariest day of my 46 years, we were able to leave Duke. As we packed the bags and were preparing to walk out of his room - I saw a gorgeous bird... I asked "did you see that bird?"; I was talking to Scott... but I heard a loud, odd sounding "I do"... the most beautiful voice ever spoken. It sounded odd, stuttered, and like that from a hearing impaired child, but it was glorious.
every parent should feel this joy and hope
After the longest week of my life, we jumped in with two feet to the fastest several weeks ever. Alex's words started coming the following Tuesday while playing a video game with a friend... His speech was slurred like a drunk man, but it was getting better...
Nine months later, my child is working in San Antonio, Tx. He is healed... sometimes if he is tired or over-excited, I can hear a little speech impediment... but he is alive, strong, working, talking, and back to being the annoying crazy child that he has always been!
God is good, my friend... He came even without me asking. He healed when we did not know it would be possible. He has a plan for my boy... and I vow to watch every step of the way!
