APRIL 2013 - On Easter Sunday the world stopped for several minutes during the March Madness basketball games to recoil in horror at the site of Kevin Ware's broken leg. It made the tv, radio and internet in a matter of seconds. It made it's way to my house that quickly too–by video message.
People knew we would identify.
Kevin Ware in PAIN.
I've been fairly silent on my blog these past few months, but after seeing Kevin's injury, well, the timing just to reengage just seems right.
You see, Kevin's horrible break happened exactly 5 months after my 16-year-old was discharged from the hospital for a very similar, equally horrific compound fracture. Like Kevin's freakishly scary incident, my son's break–or, to be more accurate–breaks, were captured on video and replayed for many to see.
Those breaks were the beginning of an on-going, five month plus chapter in my family's life that has included 19 days in the hospital, three surgeries, countless wound care and orthopedic appointments, physical therapy, at-home ultrasound, sleepless nights, prayerful convocations, potluck meals and a display of friendship and fellowship unlike I have ever seen.
Our story began Oct. 26. My son was with our church youth group at an outing on Armuchee Creek, while my wife and I hosted a Murder Mystery party for our church's college class. The "murder" had just happened when we got a phone call that my daredevil boy had broken his leg by jumping from a rope swing into the creek.
Second hospitalization
It took three different people to tell me the story before I believed them. Leaving the college kids behind, my wife and I hurried to the emergency room, beating the ambulance there. As we waited, droves of high school students piled in, many of them with iPhone-captured videos of our own Kevin Ware moment.
The leg was dangling unnaturally with not one, but TWO bones, protruding. The break happened in creek water, just a few months after a young lady suffered horrible infections from creek water exposure. We were scared, nervous.
An emergency surgery repaired the tibia with a rod and screws. Aligning the large bone caused the fibula to realign naturally. The rest, would be up to his body–and God. Four days later he was dismissed home, and that should've been the worst of the story.
But, for reasons I'm still learning about, God has other plans for us. Four days after my son came home, my wife was admitted to the hospital for pancreatitis. It took nine days and a multitude of tests for doctors to discover the pancreatitis was caused by a perforated ulcer that required surgery. Now, I had an immobile boy at home and a wife in the hospital. My nerves were frazzled, but we were so blessed during that time to have an amazing church family who helped by providing meals, sitting with either my wife or my son or just dropping by to offer moral support.
My wife came home from the hospital just in time for Thanksgiving, but within a few days my son was back in the hospital for a second surgery. The wound where the bones came through the skin was not healing properly.
Today, we're five months and four days removed from my son's Kevin Ware break, and the journey is not over. The wound has not completely healed, and the bones have not fused. Each day ends with wound dressing and a bone-growth stimulator treatment from an at-home ultrsound machine that we now own.
I'm not complaining. In fact, I'm praising. Over the course of this five-month journey we have been blessed with countless prayers. I have met some of the most amazing high school and college students I think I have ever met. I have eaten some of the best home cooking by some fine Southern chefs, and I have learned to appreciate the journey.
My son has just turned 16 when he broke his tibia and fibula. Maybe this was about keeping him off the road a little longer. I was in the middle of a major work project that was consuming my thoughts. Maybe this was about reminding me of the things in life that are truly important. I'm an only child with no parents, and I've been known to lament the holidays we spend without an extended family. Maybe this was about showing me that my church family is both large and loving.
I hope Kevin and his family weather this storm well. I hope his bone and wound heal quickly and without complication. I hope they have the resources around them that I have had around me over these past months. This is one situation for which I am well qualified to offer advice:
Be patient.
Let people take care of you.
This is not the end of the world.
The journey may be long, but that's part of God's plan.
Heroes exist.
Our Hero: Ben Cheeseman
I had almost forgotten about the last one, but we discovered very quickly that heroes are real. When my son attempted to stand in the water and cried out in excruciating pain, 16-year-old Ben Cheeseman jumped into the water to help. He singlehandedly lifted my 180-pound boy from the water and carried him up a steep, muddy embankment. Once there, other boys took off their coats to keep shock at bay. Teens laid on top of him to give him warmth for the bumpy ride across the pasture back to the road where an ambulance could meet them. Physicians and nurses cared for him. Friends stopped by with Peace Teas, posters, white-chocolate dipped Oreos and chicken biscuits. Church families brought chili, pizza, soup and fast food.
We were surrounded by heroes.
I hope Kevin Ware has some heroes around him. They sure come in handy.
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