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Let me back-track a bit. How far should I go? Should I go to the season of 9 months, waiting for our child to be born? About how that time of our lives, Sam was a full-time graduate student at Moody, and we had zero reliable income, while owning a house with a mortgage and raising our 2 young children? How we had to buy our own insurance, and maternity coverage would not begin until August 23, and how Timo's due-date was September 5? Should I go back to his birth, where I was so relieved to get past August 23 so our insurance would cover the birth, only to come down with fever and chills, and needing to be induced to bring him into the world, and going through labour and childbirth while running a fever of 102 degrees? Should I tell you about how 2 weeks later he began to vomit every feeding and exhibited all the signs of severe infant reflux? How he was not putting on weight because he vomited every feeding? How it was like nursing twins because he threw up everything he took in?
Maybe I'll tell you about when he was 7 weeks old, and because of the reflux, he had to be upright so he wouldn't gag or choke on vomit, and we had him in a backpack carrier, and he somehow wasn't securely buckled and slipped out through a leg-hole and hit his head on concrete steps. Sam, in horror, stooped down to pick up his young baby, and he wasn't moving or breathing, until many seconds later when he came to and then began the wailing. We went immediately to the Emergency Room where all kinds of tests began. I sat bewildered in a PICU (Pediatric Intensive Care Unit) while they x-rayed and scanned and surveyed and poked and tested and then called DCFS. It's standard procedure to call child and family services when an infant has a severe injury like that. His skull was fractured, and a pediatric neurosurgeon was called to assess any potential damage to his very young brain. They couldn't detect any significant damage, but the nurses observed his severe vomiting and he was then tested and diagnosed with infant acid reflux. After prescribing some medication, in one month he began to put on weight.
We had a roller-coaster of a time right from the get-go with Timo. And as he's grown and developed it is clear he is one of a kind. So fast forward through his childhood and early adolescence, and it is no surprise that he fell in love with all things that move - cars, vehicles, jet skis, airplanes, trains - you name it, if it moves, he loves it.
So it is no surprise that when he became of age he would take up every kind of vehicle operation possible. He has worked hard ever since he was able to hold a mop. When he was 6 years old he begged to push the lawn mower. Sam, being very safety-conscious, observed his eagerness and taught him how to mow safely - he wore protective eye goggles and closed-toe shoes for the first few years. He loved mowing so much that he would ask neighbors if he could mow their lawns. They were happy to oblige and he had no idea they would give him money to do it. He came running in the door one day and showed me his $20 bill (a huge amount of money for a 6 year old!). "They gave me this much money even though I would pay them to mow their lawn!" he yelled. And this began something in him - a drive to work and earn and pay his own way.
So he has worked ever since - in the past number of years mostly in HVAC, plumbing, some electrical work, tree-trimming and landscaping. With his earnings he got himself the motorcycle. Of course this was very concerning to us. And that night, he was driving within the speed limit, and a car that didn't see him turned left in front of him, and he saw that he would have no way to avoid a collision. He tried to slow himself down, but did not succeed.
I can hardly process what happened a year ago. I don't always journal, and when his accident happened words just dried up entirely. I sometimes try to jot down a few lines to capture the day. I was doing this every day at the time and my sentences are halting and factual. I was so stunned and shocked and had after the first all-nighter my body was ready to shut down. I was 46 last year and kept saying, "I'm too old to stay awake all night." I had no idea I'd be staying awake all night the second night as well. Because Timo would need surgery.
They waited a full 24 hours to do his surgery. They got him out of the E.R. room and into a regular room. Every movement likely sent shooting pain all over his body. His pelvis was fractured in 4 places. The doctors were telling us that given his injuries, we could anticipate a 6-12 month recovery with 6-8 weeks in a wheelchair. Because both arms were broken, he had no use of his hands or fingers and would need assistance with everything. A 2 year-old has more mobility and agency. In the hospital room, I slept on the cot next to him. If the blanket fell off his shoulders, he could not grab it to pull it up. If he wanted a sip of water, he couldn't hold the cup. His whole body seemed broken.
As did my soul.
Timo's frame of mind was incredible. In the first E.R. before the helicopter he apologized immediately to Sam and I. "I'm sorry I rode the motorcycle." "I should have listened to you." Before he went to the helicopter, he asked me to phone his boss. "Tell him I won't be in tomorrow. But maybe the next day." The paramedics told him, "You're not going to work for a very long time." Timo was really disappointed.
As he lay in the hospital room, we talked some about what happened. He was afraid I'd be angry at him (truth be told, I was, but knew this was not the time for that). He apologized again and again. This is a kid who is stoic and proud. He doesn't apologize lightly. But he does when he knows he's blown it. For being so proud, he is willing to be humble when he sees his fault. He blessed me again and again - he began to thank me for helping him. The kid who is super independent and wants to do everything himself - he thanked me. As I had learned in caring for my Mother-in-law, it is a privilege to serve. Some patients make it easier than others.
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