Today is a very meaningful day in our household. Thus, I treat it like any other special holiday and break from my "work" and will not write about decorating today. Two years ago today, our youngest son suffered a life-threatening injury to his spleen. He fell from an eight-foot foundation wall of a home we were building. He is an extremely active boy and "thinks before he leaps." Well, he did just that on that day. My husband had promised to take him to see the jobsite as he loves back-hoes and excavators, etc. and the thought was that there might be one there. When they arrived, he raced out of the car ahead of everyone else and headed straight to the wall. Then the fall...At the hospital, he was diagnosed as having a severe laceration to his spleen. They wanted to airlift him to the IWK, but there was too much fog and rain to do so safely. A long, scary drive lay before us and we were not even allowed to travel in the ambulance with him. They had sent members of the pediatric trauma team down for the transport (an agonizing 2 and 1/2 hr waiting process) and there was no room for us. They were so kind and gentle to him. When they opened the ambulance doors and we could finally see him, he was clutching a teddy bear they had given him and they told us he had named it Ginger. This from a boy who had long since rejected teddy bears...
Eight days of a slow and painful (physically for him, emotionally for us) watch and wait period followed. The staff at the IWK were excellent and I truly felt he was getting the best care possible. We had so much kindness shown to us from family and friends. Close friends stayed with our kids that first night in hospital. My mum, sister, niece and nephew came to see him and lift his spirits. I was also touched by the thoughtfulness of a kind friend who drove an hour and a half to just sit with us, and then treated me to a beautiful scarf to put in my hair. I had been wearing what seemed like the same "uniform" for days that I kept re-washing and she must have taken pity on me and my son. I will never forget that she instinctively knew I needed a friend to be there. My mother-in-law helped mind our other children and my husband travelled back and forth as much as possible.
The intense love we feel as mothers made me feel like the proverbial mother lion protecting her cub. I did not want to leave his side for fear he would be afraid. Pain and fear are a huge part of traumatic injury. Indeed, I felt like my son and I truly connected on an even deeper level as mother and son. It is not often a mother gets to spend that much one on one time with her child. His recovery was a gift in many ways and I actually felt like I missed him when we returned home.
Twelve weeks of very restricted physical activity followed. We kept up with his schoolwork at home and did quiet outings like beachcombing at our local beach where he couldn't trip and fall and re-open his fragile spleen. It was so hard to keep him still! As he grew stronger, he wanted to do more and more. Luckily, once the surgeon sternly told him his spleen was like jello, he eased up on me a little bit.
I try not to think of what might have been. We know how lucky we were that he did not have head or spinal injuries and that his laceration sealed instead of hemorrhaging. We are just so thankful that we got to keep this beautiful boy and that he is now 100% back to good health. Angels on our shoulders?...perhaps. Whatever the reason, we are indescribably grateful, and that is why we celebrate his recovery on this date forever more.
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