Not the Blog I was Expecting to Write

This is not the first entry I intended to post for 2012, but that one can wait until later.

I planned to spend the New Year’s weekend piled up on the couch with the kids, eating junk food and scrapbooking in front of the TV while watching the entire Extended Edition Lord of the Rings Trilogy.  Instead, I spent it in an ICU hospital unit.

It was not the weekend I expected to have.

Saturday evening, instead of avoiding the craziness of the holiday in the confines of my living room, Wes and I were driving to Little Rock in the dark, going as fast as we dared, trying not to think about what might lay ahead, having left my surprised children in the care of their Aunt Lizzie.

It was not the trip I expected to take.

Saturday around noon I received an incoming call from my mother, and I was glad, because I had a couple of things to talk to her about.  But those things quickly went on hold as she told me my dad had been in a motorcycle accident.  All I knew initially was that he was ok, but had a facial injury.

It was not the call I expected to get.

But it never is, is it?   

I found out later that my dad was driving his motorcycle with a group of friends.  They had just started out, and he was about 4th in line of the pack.  He missed a curve, got into the shoulder that wasn't really a shoulder at all in small country town, and lost control in the gravel as he fishtailed his way a football field’s length down a ravine, narrowly missing a pole, went airborne, and landed just short of the tree line with the bike briefly on top of him before it bounced off to rest beside his unconscious body.

We went through the news of a bruised and battered body with a major tear from the corner of his lip through his cheek, later requiring 2½ hours to stitch up after a large chunk of wood was dug out of the wound.

We went through the news of a fractured hip, at first undetermined in seriousness, but later determined to be something that would heal on its own with a little physical therapy and care.

We went through the news of possible internal bleeding with liver damage due to inconclusive tests, later decided to be simply bruising and false levels.

We went through the news of 5 brain bleed spots in the brain, which resulted in an emergency helicopter ride to a hospital with neurosurgery treatment capabilities but later resolved on its own as the bleeding stopped and the trauma stabilized.

We went through the news of a ventilator added during transit, remaining in place for 24 hours due to first uncooperative combativeness requiring sedation and then later a lethargy and unresponsiveness that continued despite the removal of all sedatives and pain medication.

We went through thrashing and stillness, hope and worry, permission and denial, anxiety and fatigue, and a dozen other emotions in the course of hours.  We shared hugs, shared memories, shared tears, shared fears and now share a cautious but hopeful optimism as we work through the recovery and everything that means.

Life can change in a blink, without permission from us.  I was unprepared.  God was not.

And regardless of what comes now or in the future, that is something I can always expect.