We have all experienced difficult times when we thought that things just couldn’t get any worse. And usually, that is very far from the truth. But because we tend to think only about our own little slice of the world, we believe it. But later, often times much later, we learn that what we thought was our deepest darkest fear, could really have been far worse. At that point, it becomes clear that we were very fortunate at that specific moment and many, many others as well.
One of my great learning moments occurred what feels like a lifetime ago. And it was most of my son’s lifetime ago. He had just returned home from his dream 5th birthday vacation with Grandma and Grandpa to Disney World. My husband and I went to pick him up but I was driving my car and he was on his motorcycle, enjoying one more fall ride before the Midwest winter made him tuck it in until spring. My son and I left my in-laws about two minutes ahead of my husband and I had no idea that he would take a different route home. But it was about a 15-minute trip at best using either route. As I walked in the door at home the phone was ringing. At this point, I need to date myself and say that this was long before the average person had a cell phone. I answered the phone only to hear my mother-in-law blurt out that my husband was in an accident and to bring my son back over to her house and get to the hospital.
Needless to say, I got back to her house much faster than I had gotten home, dropped off my five-year-old, trying not to upset him if at all possible, and drove to the hospital. Fortunately, it was less than five minutes from mom and dad’s house. I rushed into the ER only to be told that my husband wasn’t there yet. When I asked if the nurse was sure, she glared and told me that no one had been brought in by ambulance for several hours. For a split second, I tried to decide if that was good or bad but couldn’t settle on either and really believe it. All I knew was that I couldn’t just sit there and wait. So I walked back outside and around the corner of the building to the ambulance bay. I glanced up at the sign stating only authorized personnel and decided that didn’t apply to me, as the ambulance entered the bay. But authorized or not, the paramedics weren’t letting me near my husband. They pushed me back away from the ambulance, as they wheeled him into the hospital on a gurney.
Even though I didn’t get to really see him or talk to him, I felt better knowing that he was at the hospital and would get the care that he needed. Now all I could do was wait, as the nurse still would not buzz me back into the ER treatment area. So I paced. I was able to peer through the small window in the locked doors to see all of the staff coming and going from the curtained area where he was. I was certain it was him as the same paramedics were leaving that area. I was just beginning to relax a little bit and think about sitting down when a nurse ran out, grabbed the phone and called over the PA system for the trauma team to come to the ER. My heart stopped. Time stopped, there was no sound and I had no idea that people were trying to push me away from the door to get into the ER. At that moment, I thought that life as I knew it was over.
I remember a lady leading me away from the ER entrance and back over to a waiting area and then seeing my father-in-law walk into the hospital. I was never so happy to see a familiar face, but his face was barely familiar. He looked as if he had aged 20 years in the 30 minutes since I had seen him last. This was my husband, but it was his only son. We were each imagining our own hell, that could be the outcome of this accident. We sat, we worried, and we tried to keep each other calm. I was blessed to have a great father-in-law. In reality, he was just my other dad, it had nothing to do with laws. He was a really great person and he was always there for me when I needed him. Finally, a nurse came out and told me that I could go back to see my husband.
I was going through a doorway and about another 15 feet, but it took a lifetime to make the trip. I was terrified at what I might see, and I didn’t want to let my fear or emotion show and upset him if he was able to see me. As I peeked around the curtain, my heart raced and I felt the weight of the world slide off my shoulders. He was banged up and beat up but he was talking to a doctor and holding one hand up to show him something. Apparently, I didn’t hide my emotion very well as he stopped in mid-word and smiled at me and said he would be just fine. I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I knew that in time, life would get back to normal.
Once the x-rays were done, we got the impressive tally. He had two broken wrists, one of which had a dislocation that the orthopedic specialist said was especially unusual and cool. He also had broken ribs which had caused the sharp pain and issues breathing as well as the call for the trauma team. And the final damage was to his right knee, but the extent of that would not be revealed until an MRI was completed. The MRI showed that he had severed his ACL and torn a few other important ligaments. As a result of this laundry list of injuries, we were introduced to a world-class orthopedic surgeon who was to become a very big part of our lives for many years.
I was very focused on all of the initial recovery and healing that my husband was facing. He had casts on both arms and a soft cast on his knee. For the first month so, his life was nothing but one challenge after another. After four months, he had the use of both arms and was building enough strength to use crutches, so his knee could finally be rebuilt. That rehab took him right into spring but was also very successful. So as he promised, he was just fine. But it took about 6 months of serious work and a lot of pain. By then our son was calling the orthopedic surgeon Uncle Bob. And he did kind of become a part of the family as he did a knee replacement for Dad and surgery on both of my hands in the years to come.
But the other important person that we met was the trauma surgeon who responded to the call that day in the emergency room. The story that he related to us that day really didn’t sink in for about another year. He got two trauma calls within five minutes of each other that day. Both were motorcycle accidents, and both riders were not wearing helmets. He elected to come to see my husband because the other rider had landed on his head and they were almost certain that he would not survive. As it turned out, the other man was brain bead and passed later that day.
In the time that dragged on before I saw my husband, I was certain that my day could not get any worse. And even after I saw him and knew that he was alive, I still couldn’t imagine the challenges that he would face during his recovery or if he would even make a full recovery. That was as far as my vision could go at the time. That was the extent of my world. But many months later, something made me think about the person who had rushed to the other hospital. Had she gotten to see her husband at all? Could she touch his cheek or hold his hand? Even if she did, he didn’t know it, he couldn’t smile up at her or even let her know he loved her. His life had ended that day when his head hit the pavement, but his body just didn’t understand it was time to shut down yet.
The day that I finally understood this story, I felt shame for my thoughts and actions. I cried for that man’s family. And then I thanked God for not making me walk that path. But I was just a 20 something at the time and wisdom was not something that I was endowed with at that point in my life. But each year, on September 23rd, I think back on that day and how it could have ended. I think about how it changed my life, as compared to how it could have destroyed it. I wonder how that other family is doing and how they cope with that date. And I try to think about the importance of the lesson I learned. No matter how bad the day is, someone else’s day is worse. So even on my worst days, I try to really see the other people around me and what they are going through. And if on my bad days, I see someone who is in greater need than myself, I try to do all that I can to help that person, console that person, or to simply show compassion to that person. Because now I understand that my burden could be something far less difficult than someone else’s.