December 27, 2005

All of us have anniversary days. Some are joyful, some sorrowful, and some bittersweet. I try not to dwell on these overmuch, but when Christmas season rolls around, I can not help but remember the 2005 one.

The season, as always, was a busy one. Anne had been in the far east on her assignment with the Southern Baptist IMB, but Rob and Traci had put in a quick appearance before heading off to their adventure in Venice and London. Klep and I had not made it to South Carolina to visit our other son and his pregnant wife, so we headed off bright and early the day after Christmas. It is unusual for me to do the driving, but Klep was having an unusually painful bout with his sciatica and I drove up.

We had a lovely dinner and celebration with the kids. We were all so very excited about the grand daughter who was due in early June. The next morning we had a leisurely breakfast, packed the car with Christmas gifts for all the Florida people, and headed south.

After gassing up in Baxley, Georgia in the early morning, I was driving on US 1. Klep was making a shopping list for a brief stop at the supermarket in Waycross when I spotted two dogs coming into the road. I swerved, lost control of the car in a spin, and ended up hitting one and maybe two pine trees. The next thing I knew, I could feel the branches from the tree in the backseat. Klep was sitting quietly in his seat not moving. The first thing I remember is turning off the car which was still running. I was blocked in the car. The driver's window was gone; the windshield broken. I had never felt so alone in all of my life or so frightened. There was blood on Klep's head. All I could think about is, "How can I tell my children that I have killed their dad!"

Fairly soon, a pickup truck stopped and at least two young men were at my window. They had called in the accident and told me that help was on its way. One of the young men reached in and held my hand while we waited. The other was able to reassure me that Klep was alive but unconscious. The Lord had sent two off duty EMTs to my rescue.

The ambulance arrived. Klep regained consciousness and was strapped to a board first and taken to the ambulance. Then, somehow, I was removed through the passenger side and placed on a stretcher. In the ambulance, another EMT took our vitals and I think I was started on oxygen. I was so very pleased that my blood pressure was low. In fact it was the lowest it had ever been. Fortunately I did not realize that it was because one of my lungs had been punctured by one of the five broken ribs on my left side!

One of the EMT's found Klep's cell phone and called the last number called, our nephew John in Florida. They were headed home after a doctor's appointment and immediately headed north to Baxley where they found us in the emergency room. They also called members of our church who started praying for us. We were hooked up to the usual iv's and oxygen in the ER and both of us were put through scans to see what had happened inside. They called in the surgeon for me. At some time that afternoon he told me that he was going to do something that would make me hate him. He inserted a tube into the side of my chest to drain all the fluid out and reinflate the lung. I have a very hazy memory of all this and what seemed like a few minutes was really several hours.

At some point in the afternoon a Georgia Highway Patrol officer arrived to get me driver's license information and to finish his paper work on the accident. He told me that after he saw the car that he did not expect to find anyone alive. I suppose, looking back, that this was the first time that I realized how very blessed we were that day.

When I was stable, they asked which major hospital I wanted to go to. Of course, my first choice was South Georgia, but they did not have a bed available. The hospital they sent me to was Memorial in Savannah. They did not have a bed available (flu epidemic), but they were the regional trauma center for Baxley.

Sometime after dark, I was loaded onto a helicopter with an attendant with me. By this time I knew that Klep, though concussed, was all right and was being released. Anyone who knows me, knows that flying is not one of my favorite things, but the doctor would not allow me to make the trip in an ambulance. So, we were up, up and away. I remember seeing the lights of Savannah as we approached. I remember being taken off the copter, taken into the hospital, and going through more scans and examination. I vaguely remember one of Kevin's KA brothers, Vic being there to see me.

They kept me in the emergency room ICU that night and all the next day. A steady stream of doctors came through. Kevin and Reagan arrived. The pastor and his wife came. Klep was in. John and Pam were there. I issued a few orders either then or earlier about who was to be told and who wasn't and who was to tell whom. I also told Klep that he was to come home and pay the taxes and get the truck. Anyway, I must have been a little repetitious, because they still tease me about my concern about getting the taxes paid before the end of the month!

I was told that I would probably be put on a respirator. With the injuries I had sustained, I needed to expect that. I had five broken ribs, a cracked sternum, a cracked shoulder blade, and a broken collar bone, plus a number on small pieces had been broken off my spine.

That night I was moved into a room in the ICU. Sometime during the night a young black woman came in to clean me up. She told me that she knew I was one of His because of the smile on my face. She was a true blessing.

Klep rode home with John and Pam. Kevin and Reagan stayed until they knew Klep was back, and we started the steady process of getting better. The phone calls started coming in from all over. Anne called. I told her I was fine. When Rob got to London and had Internet access, he found out. My mother continued to fret. I spent New Years Eve and New Years Day in Savannah. I remember FSU losing in the Orange Bowl. Sometime during that week, I started occupational therapy to learn how to get out of bed without doing further damage to myself. I had about a thousand x-rays. I got an epidural pump for the pain. I learned a lot about being in the hospital.

On the afternoon of the fourth of January, the doctors decided I could come home. Klep lined my seat in the bright blue Dodge with pillows and we headed home.

Rob and Traci arrived home from their trip the same day I left the hospital. They were over to check on me and to stay for the weekend. Bless Traci's heart, she took the tree down and put all the ornaments away for me. They also fielded telephone calls, took care of food, got me extra nightgowns, and were an all around delight.

I gradually walked more and more steps each day. I knew that the sooner I could move around easily, the sooner I would be better. The nights were the hardest because I had to sleep on my back. I only took medicine for pain at night after the first few days home. I wanted off the medication as soon as I could be. I did not spend all night in the bed until the middle of February. Each night when I got particularly miserable, about 1:00 a.m., I would move to the large recliner in the hallway where I would lie in a cocoon of pillows and sleep until morning.

When Klep started back to work, my mother came everyday to stay with me. It was not easy on her and by the end of the month, I felt well enough to stay by myself.

People were wonderful during this time. The people in our church brought food. The people in Klep's organization at Moody brought food. Col. Oshiba's wife cooked a whole collection of Korean food that he brought on Saturday afternoon.

So, I suppose December 27 is one of those anniversaries that I will always remember. I am ever so thankful that we survived the crash. I am thankful for all those people who helped us that day and who helped us through the six weeks of recovery. I learned how very loving and caring my family in. I learned how much my husband loves me, if I ever had any doubts. I learned how very generous and loving our church and our friends are.

I am convinced that our survival was a miracle and that those EMTs did not show up by accident.

Christmas 2011

Our Christmas season which began with Thanksgiving (both literally and figuratively) is well into its second week. As I gaze out the front door through the wreath, I pause for a minute to let the feeling of Christmas just seep into my very being!

Our Christmas is both a static and a changing thing. It is static in the traditions which we have developed. It is changing in the many ways that life itself changes and evolves. This change does not negate the quality of Christmas, just the way it unwraps gradually as we age and our children leave and change. Many things about the Christmas with young children I miss; others? Not so much!

Now, I have more time to do little things for others. One of the things we started even when our children were young was to buy gifts for some people who would not receive any otherwise. This, I can now do at a more leisurely pace. I now have time to make fresh cranberry chutney from the leftover fresh cranberries. Lunches with friends can be long and leisurely.

We no longer have young children to pile into Green Gas Hog to go see the Christmas lights. But, we have my 88 year old mother who will enjoy a ride through the beautifully lit Stephen Foster Memorial Park in White Springs. We also have the time to ramble around to our hearts' content listening to Christmas music on the radio and marveling at the things others have put up for our enjoyment! I always strongly suspected that we enjoyed these Christmas light jaunts more than the boys anyway! It was a way for our house to be cleared out so that Santa could do his magic and go on to other parts of the world.

Now we have more time to catch a play or a concert or a full moon reflected on a lake where we can marvel at the timelessness of the Christmas account. It matters not a whit that the birth was probably not in December. What matters is the magical, wonderful miracle that we worship a God Who cared enough about us (worthless and disobedient as we are) to come to earth in the form of a baby to reveal himself to us!

So! Bring on the lights, decorations, music! Sorry, Elvis, there will be no Blue, blue Christmas at our house this Christmas 2011!