DH’s Dad was left handed. My Mom is left handed. Ben is left handed and three of the adopted children are left handed. Two of my bil’s are left handed. Wow, I’m surrounded by lefthanders.

    Ben (age 22) was in a motorcycle accident last Wednesday. Today he is having surgery on the broken bones in his left hand. This has been quite a week. You never really know what life is about until something bad happens to someone you love.

    I’ve been the primary nurse in Ben’s wound care. “Mom’s are like that, yeah they are”. For those who don’t know, that’s from a children’s aspirin commercial when I was a kiddo. I can still see the image of the boy standing at the door and the mother informing him that his playmate is sick. I’m dating myself, but everyone needs to realize that you keep the images from childhood in your brain for your lifetime. Beware what you put in.

    Anyway, the fateful phone call came around 7pm last Wednesday. It was a strange phone number, with a name I didn’t recognize on the caller ID. I answered. The reply…”Mom, I have a problem.” At that point I could practically feel the adrenaline leaping through my veins. Ben had left to attend a class about 1.5 hours away. He was on the motorcycle – oh, no.

    “Ben, what happened?!” He proceeds to start at the beginning and tell me how he was coming around a corner and there was something in the road, he went down. My brain is racing; I’m not listening to the details. I cut in “Ben, are you alright, are you hurt? Is the motorcycle okay? (I’m asking this one to check on his mode of transportation, NOT because I truly care about the bike at this point). Ben is interjecting answers during my flow of questions. “I’m kind of banged up.” “No, Mom” with a sigh “The bike is totaled.”

    By this time I’m walk/running down the stairs toward Thomas. Of course Dave is at work, seems like he’s there a lot during family emergencies and he’s far better at emergencies than me. But he’s only a phone call away. I’m telling Thomas that Ben has been in a crash on the motorcycle. Thomas (the EMT) grabs the other phone and jumps in, asking Ben legitimate emergency questions. I tell the teen boys to call Dad on the other phone.

    Ben isn’t making a whole lot of sense and we aren’t getting answers. “Ben, can we talk to the person whose phone you are on?” “Okay” he says. At this point, I’m a basket case and Thomas says “Mom, let me do the talking”. The boys have DH on the other line so I get off one phone and go to the other. DH said the first thing I said was “Ben was in a wreck, the bike is totaled.”

    Ben’s phone friend is willing to take him to a local hospital or to any hospital we want. What a treasure of a Samaritan; and all we know is that her name is Dana. I thank the Lord for sending people like this into our lives. With all this commotion we realize there is an ambulance pulling in – Thomas’ EMT ears heard the siren. Okay, I have a realization, this accident is bad enough for an ambulance. This is not a fender bender. Amidst all the chaos – DH says to let the ambulance take Ben to Stockton. Not the time to take chances with possible internal injuries etc.

    I change, the kiddos grab my purse & jacket, and Thomas and I jump in his pickup (Grandpa’s pickup that he bought from Grandma) and head down to Stockton 1.5 hours away.

    Prayer, ask for prayer. Before we run out the door, I have the wherewithal to call a couple of people. My sister is ½ hour from the hospital. I ask her if she and my bil would go to the hospital, since they can get there an hour or so before us. I feel better knowing they are there. My bil had a motorcycle accident on our road a year ago. They had to mediflight him out – but that’s another story. Motorcycles!

    We finally got hold of our Pastor’s wife and a church prayer request went out on the internet. At the hospital my sister was in with Ben. Only one at a time in the room. When my sister came out they had a lock down of the emergency room due to a code. No one in or out until that’s done. Patience, patience. I just need to see him to know whether he’s okay or not.

    We were blessed at the emergency room with a visit from Pastor, an Elder and his wife, and a Deacon and his wife. These are church leaders, but also dear friends and it meant so much to have them there.

    Finally, I get in. I breathe a huge sigh of relief; he’s hurt, but intact. He’s banged up, pants torn – he had khakis on, DH says wear jeans. He was wearing his leather jacket and his HiTec shoes are not scraped a bit. He’s got gauze here and there and scrapes. A short run down, the bike rolled about 200 feet and caught on fire, burning to a crisp, literally. Ben rolled 5 or 6 times. Probably looked something like a movie stunt. But I’ll let him tell the gruesome details on his blog.

    We talk. He closes his eyes periodically and says “I can’t get the images out of my head.” It’s like a movie running over and over. He thought he was going to die. In my curiosity I ask “What went through your head?”  His answer “Mom’s going to kill me.” Hmmm, have I made an impression on my child or what?

    I haven’t had a good cry yet since I have been busy with wound management. Crying usually helps me relieve stress. Surgery is today, so another hurdle to jump. Yet I am at peace in knowing that the Lord is sovereign. I am so thankful to him for saving my son’s life. With what the wreck entailed, his injuries could have been far worse, even fatal. Yet the Lord has seen fit to spare his life. Has Ben learned anything? Only time will tell, as he heals and integrates yet another painful learning experience into his repertoire.

    God is good. Blessings.