The accident

It was Friday night, last week. I'd seen my husband Mark at lunch, and he said he'd be home around 5:30 that evening. It was 6:00. I'd been trying to hold off on dinner until daddy came home, but everyone was having a meltdown so I'd decided to proceed with dinner. Everyone was settled and had food in front of them. We prayed and began eating. The phone rang.

It was Mark.

I said, "Hi honey! How are you?"

He said, "Not good." I assumed he had to stay later at work than he'd expected and was frustrated about it.

I said, "What's up?"

Long pause.

I became worried.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh...I got into an accident."

Gasp. He briefly explained that he'd been riding his bike home from work and had hit a car. I told him I'd be right there.

He said, "No. You don't have to come. I'm okay."

I asked him where he was, and he mentioned a street name. I repeated: "No. Where ARE you, right now?" He told me he was still laying in the street, behind the car. The police were pulling up, the ambulance was on it's way.

Again, I told him I'd be right there. By that time it was obvious to my children that I was alarmed. My daughter was crying, my boys were looking at me, bewildered. All eating had ceased. I picked up my anxious daughter and explained what daddy had said, but assured her that he was okay: "He was talking to mommy. He's okay."

I called my mom, who lives very close- and asked her if she come up? I had to be with Mark. She was at my door, out of breath, 2 minutes later. She'd run the whole way here.

I kissed my children, hugged my daughter again and told her he was going to be okay, and that mommy was going to go be with him. As I was driving away I met my dad and little brother, walking quickly towards my my house. My dad offered to come with, and I agreed.

When I got to the accident, the first thing I saw were lots of people standing around- across the street, near the accident- watching. I saw a police car, I saw the ambulance. I did not see Mark. I parked and we rushed out of the car, and then saw him sitting up behind a car, surrounded by paramedics. There was blood all over his arms, his face, and his neck. I couldn't tell where the blood was coming from. He was wincing in pain, trying to communicate with the paramedics that he could not move his hands or his arms. I sat beside him and cried a few tears. He assured me again that he was okay.

The paramedics did not think he had sustained any head, neck, or back injuries, which was a relief for me to hear. However, they did want to take him to the ER because of his low blood pressure and obvious wounds. They helped him to a stretcher and told us to meet them at the ER.

We spent the next 5 hours in the ER. About 1.5 hours of that time was actually spent with nurses or doctors or x-ray technicians actually working on or with Mark, the rest of that time we spent waiting around. During the waiting around time, I prayed, Mark and I talked, I called home, I called Amy, I prayed some more.

Mark had four gashes on his face (two on his chin, one on his upper lip, and another above his eye) that required stitches. They x-rayed his hands, head, and neck, and said he had no broken bones, amazingly.

We were grateful, but I could tell that Mark was in excruciating pain- in his hands and arms. He could barely move them. When they asked him his pain level (on a scale of 1 to 10...), he said "Ten, I guess. But it's more like a twelve." The ER doctor told us that the pain in his hands was due to trauma from the impact of the collision; that it should subside in a few days. Finally at around 11:30, we were able to go home.

Mark has been home, in bed, since Friday night. He can move his hands, but only painfully. We're told it's nerve damage. Any sensation to his fingers or forearm feels to him like a burning, stinging, unbearable pain. I opened our bedroom window the other day and the feel of the breeze drifting onto his hands made him wince. I am not joking. He could not use his hands at all, for anything.

He's going to be okay. Yesterday he was up for most of the day. He is able to move his arms more, and his fingers a little (well, his pinky finger on each hand, but that's a start!) He's on medication now specifically for his nerves, and we're hopeful that will help the pain. His fingers and hands ache, but the shooting, stabbing pain has abated.

So. That's it. That's us. I don't have anything profound to say about it, but wanted to say it. I love Mark so much and I am extremely grateful that he is okay. Nothing broken, no damage to his spine or head. It could have been so much worse.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust." Psalm 91, 1-2