Monday morning this week was the official beginning of summer for the kids and I. I was so looking forward to slowing down and just being able to rest. I have been very intentional about keeping our schedule pretty open for the summer. I woke up around 7:30, got my coffee, started reading and responding to email. About 8:15, the house phone rang. When I answered, it was my husband, Matt. I could hear right away that something was wrong. ” Sweetie, I am OK, but I was out on my bike, and I have been hit.” The room spun. My hands started to shake. All I could get out was “Where are you? I am coming.” I woke the kids out of a sound sleep. I was staying calm for them, but shaking like a leaf. He was just down the road. We turned the corner. There was the fire truck and ambulance. “Is that it?” My son said. “Yeah, that’s it. But, he is okay.” I left them in the car and jumped out. The fireman directed me to go down the road and cross. I couldn’t see him. There was a knot of firefighters and rescue workers around a duffle bag on the side of the road. No, not a duffle bag, my husband in a small, still pile, right on the white line at the roads edge. He was completely conscious, and completely lucid. Blood was everywhere. They were putting him onto a back board. At that moment the thought of spinal injury crossed my mind. I pushed it out. Only the facts you know, nothing more. I held his hands and prayed out loud. I thanked God for sparing him, and asked for more grace. I told Matt, I would find a place to take the kids, and meet him at the hospital. They rolled him onto a backboard, strapped him onto a gurney, and loaded him into the ambulance.
So, now we are on day three. He is in pain. His back is very tender. He is on pain medication, and it is not entirely eliminating his pain. He is in a narcotics fog. He is suffering. It is too real right now. I want my box back. The one that shuts out scary things. Matt is the healthy, strong, active guy. Now he is really, really hurt. What is this road going to look like? How long will it be? He wants his life and his body and his mind back. I know it has only been three days. How many more? Will he get back to normal? I can’t sleep. I want this to go away. I want it to never have happened.
I am so very grateful that my husband is still alive. If any one variable had been different, we wold not have him here today. I covet your prayers for a speedy recovery, and that he will be his whole, healthy self again soon.