So I thought I would post his story. It is not Biblical Hebrew but perhaps it will explain why I have been away for so long.
On July 2, 2014 God stepped in and
changed our lives.
Our son is a mechanic working in
the oil fields, south of San Antonio, Texas. On July 2nd he was
driving from one job site to another job site. The unthinkable happened and he
ended up at the back of a five vehicle accident. The mechanic truck our son was
driving was pushed up under the pickup in front of him. Smashed so badly that
the frame broke between the cab and the tool boxes.
Our son was blessed with no actual
memory of the accident and only woke up when he heard the words, “Is anyone
alive in there?” Our son stuck his
fingers out of the narrow opening where the window should have been in the
crushed cab. Wiggling his fingers he said, “Me, me!”
“What’s your name?” The EMS worker
said.
“Gary. You have to get me out of
here. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.” My son was penned between the steering
wheel and the back of the cab, in less than six inches of space.
It took more than an hour to cut
the top of the cab off of the work truck. Then another few minutes to cut the
steering wheel free. When the steering wheel was cut deep enough to release the
pressure on our son’s chest he said, “Wait, I can breathe now. Give me just a
second.”
The front of his work truck was
pushed up under the pickup in front of him and he had punctured its gas tank. As
the other truck spewed gas, oil had shot out of his own engine as the two
trucks collided. While they were cutting him out of his work truck they
realized that he was covered in gas and oil. The rescue team was trying to get
him out fast because of the gas and oil and they could not wait too long. Because of God’s protective hand, nothing
caught on fire.
Our son, did not remember much
after that. He doesn’t remember the AirLife that gave him his first and only
helicopter ride. They flew him to the number one trauma center in San Antonio,
University Hospital.
After they air lifted him to San
Antonio I received a phone call from my husband. My husband had received a call five minutes
before he called me and was already headed home. We have a very businesslike Emergency Mode in our family. If you
don’t know us Emergency Mode can
sound very cold and unloving. In reality
it is controlled hysteria.
When my husband called he said,
“Rosa, I need to tell you something. Are you ready?”
“Yes”, I replied. “I’m ready.”
“Zeb was air lifted to San Antonio.
He was in a car accident. He can move his fingers.” Our son used his first name
at work but he was always called Zeb at home.
“Ok, when will you be here?” It
never occurred to me that he would not be on the way.
“I am east of Kennedy and it will
take me an hour and a half to get there. We need cash and gas in your pick-up,”
he said.
“I will be ready when you get
here.”
“Ok,” he said as he hung up the
phone.
I have a dozen things to do in the
next hour and a half. Pick up the cleaning, pack, don’t forget the insulin, put
plenty of food outside for the cat, go by the bank… then come home and make a
half dozen phone calls. I ran my errands, then packed and I was ready to make
the phone calls. First to our daughter, then my parents, then my Mother-in-law,
finally to our Pastor. It was a very quick hour and a half when my husband
stepped into the house.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes”, I say as I am handing him
bags for the pick-up.
When we get in the pick-up my
husband asked,” Have you called the hospital?”
“No,” I replied, “I was afraid to.”
“Call now,” he said.
As I dialed the phone I only have
one question on my mind. When the reception desk answers I need to tell her who
I am asking about. Finally she says, “We cannot give out any information
because of the HIPA law.”
In frustration I ask her, “I am his
Mother, can you at least tell me if he is alive?”
“Yes”, she answers quietly before
she hangs up. “
“He is alive, drive faster!” I
command.
The 63 mile drive seemed so much
longer than the time spent getting ready to go. I was just sitting and all I
could do was pray for our son. I had nothing else to busy me and I could not
concentrate to read. My husband tried to make conversation but I could not
focus. Finally, we arrive at the hospital. It takes so long to go through all
the red tape so we can finally see our son. Why can’t we simply rush past the
front desk? Where is trauma? Can’t someone help us faster? Is he still alive?
Finally we are escorted back to
trauma. As we enter the trauma room I can see my son’s chest moving. He’s breathing
and I whispered, “Thank you Lord”. The shortest heart felt prayer I have ever
prayed.
My husband and I lean over the bed
and touch him. I start to pick the glass off of his face and he opens his eyes.
“Hi Momma. Hi Dad. I love you,” he whispers.
We don’t yet know that his chest was pinned and his ribs are fractured.
How sweet to hear those words. How
breathtaking to look at this injured body. His face is bloody and covered in
glass, oil and gas. His brown curly hair
blackened with oil and glistening with glass. His eyes black and purple swelled
almost shut. His mouth bloody and swollen open. One shoulder covered but we
don’t know why. His chest exposed covered in glass, oil and blood. With all
this he is smiling at us.
My husband replied, “We love you
too, son.” I kiss his face, glass and all. Then I sit next to him and start
picking the glass off of his eyelids. I
am content now, he is alive. God is so good to us.
For us the hard part is over. In
the next few hours and days we learn that he has six broken ribs, a cracked
sternum and cracked clavicle. He has a C7 fracture.
The doctor said, “If you are going
to have a broken neck this is the best kind to have. He will not be paralyzed
and he will only have to wear the C-Collar for six weeks.” Such a small thing, six weeks.
When did I miss the discussion that
he might be paralyzed? But thank the good Lord that was not a problem to be
dealt with.
Our daughter-in-law waited for her
Mother pick her up and drive her to San Antonio to the hospital. She got out of
the hospital six days previous and was not very strong yet. She stayed as long
and as often as she could but she was not strong enough to stay more than a
couple of hours at a time. Our daughter
and son-in-law came and stayed the first two days to help out when we needed to
rest.
That evening we learned that Zeb
also had a lacerated liver and we learned more about the gaping wound in his
shoulder. We overheard a doctor say that the EMS attendant was very careful
with the shoulder because he was afraid it would tear off. We are so glad we
did not know that before it was sewn back together. The next day we learned
that he had a broken pelvis. It was fractured in the front and the back and
would need surgery. The doctors waited five days before they put a metal plate
in the front of the pelvis and screws in the back. I could not understand why
they would wait that long. I found out that they were waiting for Zeb’s body to
start making a sufficient amount of platelets again so he would not bleed to
death during the surgery. Waiting is good.
Quite often I would wake from a
nap, while sitting in Zeb’s room, to find our daughter combing her brother’s
hair. Sometimes she would be cleaning grease or blood out from under his finger
nails. We spend many quiet hours picking glass out of his hands or face. Some
pieces never came out. The doctor said they would work to the surface
eventually. Funny, how a piece of glass under the skin will make a man vain.
Becky cared for him like a new baby. Sometimes quiet, sometimes picking at him.
Always loving him.
Zeb was on heavy drugs the first
couple of days because of the pain. He could answer a question and snore in the
same breath. It was always an odd conversation when we heard the doctor say,
“Mr. Smith, did you understand what I just said?”
“Yes Sir,” Zeb would reply. The
last of the word being snored.
We did not find out about the
injury to his eye until we had glasses made for him. He could not see past the
end of his nose without his glasses and was more than grateful when my
optometrist made a pair of glasses from an expired prescription. This was one
of the many profound acts of kindness that people performed for us. Our Pastor and his wife came and visited every
few days to pray with us and offer support. Zeb was in the trauma hospital for
fourteen days, so was I.
The first week my husband took off
work. My husband and I prayed for our son almost constantly. Every day I told
him how good God had been to him. One
morning he was very alert and I started to tell him of the miracles God had
performed on his behalf.
“Son,” I started, “I want to talk
about how good God has been to you. You were covered in oil and gas and God
prevented a fire or an explosion. When your neck broke it did not fracture all
the way and you will walk again. God is good to you. Your broken ribs did not puncture
a lung and your broken clavicle did not break all the way through and poke you
in the wind pipe. God is good to you. God made you strong and your chest did
not rupture your heart from the impact of the steering wheel.”
Our son replied, “God was so good
to me”.
I started to cry with joy from those word from
our son. I continued. “The pipes that shredded your arm pit and the lower part
of your shoulder did not venture into your chest or throat. You did not lose
your arm. God is so good to you. You could have bleed to death because of the
pelvis fracture but God made you strong.”
Our son took my hand and said these
words, “Momma, I know that God has been good to me. I think He allowed this
accident to happen because of how I was feeling in my heart. I was turning away
from Him and He wanted me back. I know that God loves me and has allowed me a
second chance to love him too. If for no other reason than for me to return to
God, this accident was for a reason. God is so good to me.”
We have since found out that he is
going to heal from most of his injuries. He will never have full sight in the
left eye. But God gave him two eyes and one good eye is enough. We were told
that there will probably be permanent heart damage. The doctors think that it
is something that can be medicated and worked around. He should be walking
before Christmas as the pelvic injury is healing quickly.
The EMS worker asked, “Is anyone
alive in there?” Our son began to realize that those same words were coming
from God. “Is anyone alive in there? Is your heart alive to me? Did you forget
I was waiting for you?” The greatest of all the miracles God performed was on
our son’s stone cold heart.
God is so good!
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