Miracle #1 My Son Is Happy and Healthy

My silence here was not because I wasn't seeing MIRACLES but rather it was because sometimes it is hard to see and bear witness to the miracles that surround you when you are in the thick of the mess.

I have wanted to write about this miracle for a long time.... and then more miracles kept happening. One after another, after another, after another. It became so amazing that my Dad even joked about the guardian angels that surrounded me and my family. Because I have been the recipient of so many miracles... and I don't say that lightly... because they were big.... I have decide to give each one its own proper blog post. So here it is goes. Miracle #1: My Son is Happy and Healthy.

It was the end of January, and I was in my classroom in a meeting during my lunch hour when my son's school calls. I of course immediately answer it. They give me very basic details: He had been playing football, was tackled, and the recess aides picked him up and carried him inside. They then told me that I needed to come to the school to evaluate him.

I called his Dad who was closer and let the school know he was on his way. Not 5 minutes later I get a call from the school asking to have him hurry because he was turning ashen face, looked really tired and was asking to go to sleep.

I knew his Dad could get there faster, so I called him and relayed the information. I then called the school back and told him that my son's Dad was on his way. At that point I had no idea what was wrong.

Not five minutes later, the school calls me back and reports that my son is growing paler, is acting really sleepy, and wants to go to sleep and that I needed to tell Dad to hurry.

Once his Dad got there with his Dad who is a retired physician's assistant (Grandpop for the win!) they decided that they needed to go to Primary Children's Hospital for an x-ray. It is a good thing they did... because this is the picture they got:

 I didn't understand quite what was going on and how serious the break was at the time, until I called to check in and I was told that they were prepping for surgery. I immediately went up to the hospital with my Dad to be with them. There they explained the procedure... and all the metal going into his leg. It got real when they told me there was a chance of complications and death. In my mind I knew that there is a risk of such a thing for any major surgery... but when they talk about your child... that is different. At that point he was on enough drugs that he wasn't in excruciating pain, but not enough to where he was out of it. He was scared and it showed. Leaving him when he went into surgery was hard but I still had another child to take care of. Luckily, everything with the surgery went well and he is temporarily bionic.

In case you don't want to count there are seven screws total in his bone and a large plate running from a little above the knee all the up to his hip. 

From the moment he went into surgery I immediately put everything on hold. My job, coaching, (I had a debate tournament that weekend) my personal life...everything. Coming home from the hospital I asked my angel of a babysitter if she could set up the hide-a-bed in the living room. And after heavy doses of pain meds, me, the babysitter and his dad somehow got him into the house and on the pull-out couch bed in the living room. This is where he would stay for almost a month.

As a Mom, I don't think I have ever cried so much as I did those first few days and nights as I would help hold him and cry with him while we waited for time to pass so I could give him the next dose of pain medication. My days and nights passed not by hours until bed but hours until I could give him Motrin, or Tylenol or Codeine. I would set my alarm at night as I slept by him so that I would be up to give him his next dose. I often didn't need to...he would wake up crying in pain before my alarm would sound anyway.

I spent countless nights holding him hearing him tell me over and over again that he wished he had never broken his leg. And I would always tell him that I wished I could trade places with him so that he didn't have to go through this.

The next week was mostly a blur. I was the full time caregiver to my son and thankfully I had an army of people who were there to take care of everything else. 

                                                       

Through all this mess, there were many miracles. 

Neighbors brought meals, my family rallied, and we all got through it. My house was always clean, and it seemed like when ever I needed something.... someone would show up on my doorstep to help. Sometimes I would have to ask, most of the time I didn't, and all the time the help was freely given. I had a neighbor run to the store to get me children's Motrin because we were burning through that like oil. I had another neighbor throw in wash... and yet another come over with an ace bandage and help wrap his leg after he got his big cast off. There were only a few people he would trust to help him and those people were always available when I went back to work. 

Over the next few days and weeks I learned some things. I learned that the femur is the largest bone in the body (obviously) but that it is the most painful to break. I learned how close his break came to his femoral artery.... the vital artery that crosses your body and pumps blood directly from the heart. The artery that if the bone had nicked when hit or when he was moved, would have resulted in my son bleeding out and dying in minutes. 

I learned that there were multiple times throughout his accident where that could have happened... but didn't... and if it had, EMS was not on scene to handle it.

With the help of my sister I figured out how to help my son get back into school and get a bus to pick him up and drop him off. Together him and I conquered his fear of the car and the trauma that that caused him going to and from the hospital.

I saw a neighbor pull over at just the right moment in order to help me get my son and his wheelchair into the house.

I learned of another neighbor who ran home to get his truck because the bus forgot to pick him up for school one morning.

I witnessed as people continued to bring meals at times when they probably didn't realize that I was working the equivalent to a part time job on top of my full time job and didn't have time to put dinner together.

I experienced a tender mercy after my efforts to try to get him into physical therapy for FOUR weeks that was covered by his insurance failed time and time again, until finally paying out of pocket to get him into a clinic to start his recovery process...and then watching as that physical therapy clinic remained the ONLY one to stay open during this pandemic.

Which leads me to the biggest miracle: My son learning to walk again.

      (My wonderful neighbor and physical therapist that has helped out)