The Call

Monday Morning 6:35 AM

I saw my husband’s name pop up on my phone and just assumed he needed me to check on something at the house.

It was his work number but it wasn’t his voice.

The caller on the other end asked for me and told me there was an accident outside of base. My husband had a broken leg but was okay and at the hospital.

I broke on the phone.

I hung up and immediately started bawling. I couldn’t believe it. There’s no way. A broken leg. An accident. He’s okay?

How did this happen? What was he driving? Is it just his leg? Was he hit? Will he be okay? Is he conscious? How bad is it? Where is he? Why him? Why today? Why us?

I had so many questions running through my mind and so many unanswered.

The only person I wanted to talk to I couldn’t. The only person who could calm me down was laying in a hospital with a broken leg in pain. The only person I wanted to hug…and I couldn’t.

I couldn’t break. I had to focus on getting my things and self together and getting to the hospital now. Nothing else mattered only him, I needed to see him.

I made it to the hospital and had to wait for what seemed like forever until I was finally let back to see him.

There he was, my rock…laying in a hospital bed with a neck brace and a splint around his entire left leg.

Items from the accident were in clear plastic bags.

Motorcycle helmet. Gloves. One shoe here, one shoe there. Pants cut off and open. Shirt cut down the middle. Wallet. Sock. Hat. Phone. Bracelet. Dog tags. Wedding ring.

Him.

Lying helplessly and in pain on a stretcher. With a broken tibia and fibula and blood bleeding through the bandages.

The pain in his eyes and voice.

my best friend.

my world.

my everything.

nothing I could do to stop the pain.

absolutely nothing.

standing there helpless.

Our entire world changed in a instant and would be changed forever.

All because of someone’s reckless driving.

Anger filled me.

Why him?

Why now?

Why us?

I stood there filled with rage, fear, sadness and worry.

We’ve never been down this road before. How are we going to get through this? What’s the next step? What do I need to do? How can we heal physically and emotionally? Why him God? Why?

I couldn’t let those thoughts overwhelm me. I was there for him. Nothing else in the entire world mattered, but him. Only him.

I pushed everything else aside and stood there strong. I did the best I could to keep him calm. I held his hand and stroked his head reassuring him everything will be okay. I told him the surgeons would fix everything and he was going to be okay. I reassured him they were coming any minute now to take him in for surgery and he wouldn’t feel any pain anymore.

But I didn’t know.

I didn’t know how severe it was. I didn’t know if it was fixable. I didn’t know how much longer they would be. I knew nothing and had nothing.

He went into surgery and I took a breath. I think my first real breath since I saw him. I carried his helmet and clothes into a room of strangers who stared at me with pity and sadness. They could see what had happened. They knew the pain.

I took another breath.

I gathered the disarray of our lives and carried it down to my car and then I broke.

I stood there in the parking lot with a helmet in my hands bawling. The reality of everything that had happened so far came rushing in and brought me to my knees. I sat there crumbled and let todays events wash over me.

But I couldn’t act like this. I needed to be strong. Strong for him. So I picked myself up and went back in to wait until I could see him again.

Everything changed in an instant for him on that road and for me when I got the call…