Note: I began writing this on Thursday...just now publishing it.
______________
One year ago tomorrow, my husband was involved in a near fatal motor vehicle accident. It was actually on a Thursday, so it seems to be hitting me a little harder today. He had left early in the morning to go fishing at
Montauk. On his return trip, it was raining, and according to the cars traveling behind him, his Nissan Frontier began to hydroplane. He lost control and had a head-on collision with an F150 full size pickup truck. Thankfully, the other driver sustained no injuries except for a broken toe.
Lesh did not fair so well. He was ejected from his truck and sustained multiple fractures and contusions. His injuries included a fractured neck (C2), a brain contusion, three skull fractures in the area of his right temporal lobe, fractured collarbones, fractured right scapula, fractured cheekbones, a broken and nearly severed off arm, (lots of plates in there now), broken left leg (above and below his knee..repaired with steel rods and plates), a lung contusion, broken ribs, bruised spleen with internal bleeding..that is off the top of my head.
When he did not return home at the expected time, I began calling his cell phone. My calls went straight to voicemail each time and the anxiety began to grow in me. (will tell you about the calls later) I experienced a myriad of emotions wondering where he could be. I thought perhaps he stopped in Wright City for a last minute fishing experience at our friend Don's pond. But I knew that his cell phone would work there. After an hour or two, I began calling sheriff departments between Lake Saint Louis and
Montauk. No one knew anything. After another hour, I called my mother. I had put that call off knowing that she would go into an all out panic. She came to my house and I thought to call the State Patrol..they have a larger network and I thought perhaps they might know something. I was on my home phone with a trooper who was checking his computer when my cell phone began to ring and Caller ID identified it as St. John's Medical Mercy Center in St. Louis. I broke out in a cold sweat and ended the call with the trooper before he had a chance to tell me that he know what had happened to
Lesh. (more on that later)
The hospital chaplain asked me to come to the hospital as quickly as I could, safely. I inquired about
Lesh's injuries and she said "he has many injuries". I asked if he had broken bones? internal bleeding? And she said "yes, he has all of those." I then asked if he would live until I got there, and she
replied "we're doing the best we can. But please drive safely." I grabbed my purse and my boys and started running for my mother's car. She had been next door at our church telling the ladies that our bible study would be cancelled and asked them to pray. Many of them jumped in their cars and followed us to the hospital. The rest of them began calling church members to ask for prayer.
Once in the car, I called the chaplain back and asked for more details and to find out if he was still alive. She told me that he had many fractures and some internal bleeding but couldn't give more detail over the phone. I pleaded but I guess it was against some hospital policy. I rode along trying not to cry too hard in front of my boys. I was absolutely terrified, a little numb, and mentally sketching a life with my boys without
Lesh. I would glance back at them frequently and smile and say "Daddy was in a car accident and has some boo boos but he is going to be just fine." I didn't want them to be fearful. My mother was on the phone all the way there and Jonah was soaking it in. He was catching more than we wanted him to..
Once we arrived, my mother dropped me at the door and went to park the car, keeping the boys with her. I ran back to the trauma area where
Lesh was being treated and was directed into a family waiting room for trauma patients. I had to wait about fifteen minutes before they would let me see him. They didn't want to let me in at all, but I begged and promised that I would not get in the ER and "flip out". I promised to remain calm and told them I would leave when they asked me to. A minister in our church, Billy Babb, had beat me to the hospital and was waiting in the waiting room when I arrived. He had been shopping very near the hospital when his wife notified him of what had happened. Looking back, I know God allowed him to be there to help me remain calm. In his own way, Billy tried to prepare me for "the worst".
When I was finally allowed to see
Lesh, Billy went in with me.
Lesh was "a mess". I had determined that I would not cry before I entered the room because I didn't want the staff to make me leave, so I looked him over, wide eyed, and fighting back tears. His head was very swollen, his "nearly severed arm" was elevated above his body and hanging on a pole of some kind. His abdomen was swollen, his leg was blooding and swollen, and blood was draining out of his right ear. He was
intubated and breathing with the aid of a machine. I did my best to remain calm. I looked at Billy and he had a pretty grave expression on his face. I asked Dr.
Peick (the lead Trauma physician) if he was going to live. Looking away from me she replied "We're doing the best we can." I glanced at Billy and then mustered up some courage and said "then we're going to pray". I asked Dr.
Peick if
Lesh could hear me and she said she didn't know. In the chance that he could, I spoke positively to him. I didn't want him to think he was so badly injured that he shouldn't fight to live. So I said things like "
Lesh, it's Jen. You're at St. John's Hospital and you have been in a car accident, but you're receiving really awesome care here. This is the best trauma center in the city and they are going to fix you up. I love you very much." Then I began to pray so that
Lesh could hear me. I said "God you made
Lesh's body and you know exactly what kind of injuries he has and You know exactly how to fix him. We are believing that You will do just that. We pray in Jesus' name. " We had to leave the room then, and once out of the room, it felt like my strength just drained from my body and I felt like a noodle. I began to sob. I cried until I was physically hurting. I walked back into the family waiting area, and more of my family had arrived. We all cried together. The hospital
liason came back frequently with more reports. They were more dreadful each time. "He may lose his arm. He may lose his leg. He may have permanent brain damage. He may not live." We cried more and hugged more.
I must stop and tell you that I have the best family in the world. Billy and Anita Babb and their children remained there with us. I'm not sure what I would have done without these dear friends and family.
I remember asking the
liason to please just tell them to do what they could for his brain. A person can live a pretty normal life without a leg or an arm, but permanent brain damage is so devastating.
The liason came back with updates every few moments and finally came back and said that we should start moving toward a larger waiting room close to the OR. By that time, close to thirty people had gathered and we moved down the hall like a herd. My children joined us then and as we walked, I tried to comfort them. I felt almost ashamed for crying so hard. I wanted to be strong and put on a brave face for them. Jonah was fearful and it was reflected in his face. Jude didn't really understand what was going on but he knew that I was upset and he began to cry. Some dear friends, the
Hances, offered to take them to the cafeteria to get them something to eat. I wanted them with me, but I knew that it would be better if they could get their minds on something else. I hugged them and and told them they would be getting ice cream..I was hoping that would cheer them up. As we were still walking, Brother Billy Babb walked along side and handed me his phone and said that Brother Ricky
Treece was on the line and wanted to talk to me. I said "Hello" and began to cry again. He told me that they were on their knees in their living room praying and that Jesus wanted me to know that just as He had told
Jairus, "Don't be afraid. Just believe." Those words were like a rope sent from heaven..something I could hang on to. We ended the call and I shared what he had said with my mother and Brother Billy because I wanted faith to rise in them as well. By the time we reached the surgery waiting center, some other folks greeted us as well. Within a few minutes, Pastor Scott Graham and a group of Gateway students gathered with us. Brother Graham had us stand together to pray.
I cannot accurately describe what that prayer did for me, and what I know it did for
Lesh as well. I have often heard people talk about how the Holy Spirit is "The Comforter", but I had never experienced "The Comforter" as I did that evening. As we began to cry out to God, the Spirit of God began to surround me in a way that I have never, ever known. I felt a weight lifting off of me and a calm fill my heart. I felt a warmth surrounding me, and I actually began to smile as the group continued to pray. True joy filled me. Joy that I didn't have..joy that was given to me by God. God's comfort to me was supernatural.
Brother David Jackson was walking through the hospital looking for us and actually followed
Lesh as he was being pushed down the hall toward the OR. He said he was praying for him as he walked and then he began to hear a roar that got louder and louder as he got closer to the waiting room where we were gathered. I know that God was already responding to our prayer and working on Lesh's behalf.
(To be continued.)
(with all his teeth)
(Jude wanted his picture taken too...he thinks this is super funny and likes looking at pictures of himself making funny faces.)
Lesh and the boys "taking turns" wishing Papa Jake a Happy Father's Day.
