Revelation Teaching Advancing the Kingdom Age and the Immortal Son
The picture above left is the off duty EMT/Fireman-paramedic who helped save Christian's life. We are forever grateful to these two messengers of God. Jim and Suzette, our hearts are yours forever.
November 13, 2005 our son Christian was in a severe motorcycle accident. Here is the account of the accident written by my husband. It will move you.
Restoring of Family – Even Flesh and Blood
Three men on bikes
A father and two sons
A sport bike and two Harleys
The sun on my face
The wind in my hair
The November countryside fills my senses
Two-lane Texas highway
3 rail fences and livestock
The expansive fields going brown
Running at 70
Side by side
Life is good
The Sportbike is passing
Christian is passing
The mini-van
The sound of acceleration
Then the sight of hesitation
Just past the Mini-van
An oncoming truck
A red 250 Ford
Coming
A sense of danger
Then a flash of anger
About the unnecessary risk
Alarm comes up from my stomach
And rushes to my head
As it becomes clear
My boy is not aware
Of the oncoming Ford
The grill becomes large
The screech of the brakes
The sway of the truck
The explosion
The vehicles collide head-on
The echo of the impact lingers
The bike debris fills the air
I shout out
The moment processes slowly
Time slows, reality dulls
The scene is a blur
I’m braking hard
Rear wheel sliding
The sport-bike appears
The engine centered on the road
I shift to avoid it
My son Keith on the Harley
Is within inches of me
I move back to the center
We ride through a curtain
A film from the debris
The road opens up
We finally stop
I see Christian
On the side of the road
He is on his side
Gray and motionless
His tongue hanging out and down
Eyes closed
No left arm at all
Left leg wide open
I roll him on his back
I look at his face
I recognize death
My son is not present
I lay on his chest
And I wail
My cry is unknown to me
I finally rise up
I lose strength in my knees
I fall and cry
I rise up again
A woman approaches
An off duty EMT
I state he is dead
We will need an ambulance
To carry the body
“No he’s not”
And I look back
He is breathing hard
His chest is rising and dropping
He is drawing deep breaths
We rush back to him
His color is back
Eyes closed tight
He is writhing in pain
He feels the pain
He speaks his first words
“Stop…stop…stoooooop!”
More off duty EMT’s
We hold him still
Bungee cord tourniquets
First the arm, then the leg
Leg open mid thigh to ankle
I pick grass from the wound
The femur visibly in two
As flesh and muscle are gone
Where is the ambulance?
Time begins to slow
Reality nudges me
I
feel dim
A man approaches
He has my son’s arm
The familiar gray color
He carries it with one hand
From the elbow
His arm hangs down on either side
The man places it on the road
A vein protrudes
From the gray lifeless limb
His fingernails seem unusual
On his motionless hand
The image stays with me still
Time drags on now
The sheriff arrives
They carefully question
I finally see and acknowledge my son Keith
As the sheriff asks questions
It is surreal
The hear the ambulance
This interrupts questions
We anticipate the sight
The ambulance arrives
They access the scene
They prepare to move him
The gurney
Backwards now corrected
Into the ambulance
We wait on the Life-flight
The loss of blood threatens
Chris is semi-conscious
EMT’s communicate with each other
“The left arm is severed”
My
Chris asks, “Whaaat?”
My heart sinks
The sound of the helicopter
The expectation
The quick info exchange
The move to the helicopter
I can’t ride with my son
The Life-flight lifts off
I feel weak
I sob on my knees
I see Keith again
He says he is ok
With tear filled eyes and a shrug
We walk past the Fire-truck
Hosing the road
Of accident debris
We arrive at the F-250
A boy of 25
His sister and mother
Are you the driver?
He nods his head yes
It’s not your fault
I call my wife Barbara
With Keith’s cell phone
To relay the news
Chris has been hurt
A broken leg I say
See you at the hospital
Keith and I return to the scene
The sheriff offers a ride
We discuss and decline
Keith wants to ride
We ride to the hospital
To
Hermann Memorial
We ride through Houston’s downtown
The accident and scene
Flash through my mind
I physically shutter each time
The scene runs through my head
I try to reason why
We stop for needed gas
Share a bottle of water
We discuss the accident briefly
We arrive at the hospital
We see Barbara and Joanna
His fiancée came also
I pull them aside
I tell them the truth
They collectively yelp
Barbara reminds me of my dreams
Of Chris with no arms
Two months earlier
We huddle and cry
We search each other eyes
No one has answers
We go to ER
Chris on the bed
Pool of blood on the floor
Dark rich scarlet red
The blood seems to stack
Rather than run
Chris is talking to us some
He asks Joanna for a kiss
Then taken to surgery
We wait in a hallway
Outside of the STICU waiting room
We sit on the tile floor
We wait in silence
Sense on time escapes me
I feel numb
The surgeon suddenly appears
We need to take the leg
He is in trouble up there
Joanna cries out in a burst
I can’t seem to process
My wife, my Barbara, nods yes
Later the surgeon reappears
He has survived the surgery
There are concerns of blood loss
He has a good chance
Of making it if
He can hang on for 48 hours
Friends of Chris and family
Begin to appear
The gathering consumes the hallway
Night turns to day
The crowd goes back home
Our waiting begins
We wait in the STICU waiting area
And take turns visiting Christian
In bed number 10
The walk up the stairs
Two at a time
To STICU A
The sterilized smell of the stairwell
Prepares and reminds us
Of the world we are about to enter
Christian is tagged on his wrist
Life Flight identified him as
“Uniform 957”
He has a hose down his throat
To assist with his breathing
And more up his nose
IV’s pump fluids
Wires check vitals
Our Christian fights on
Christian’s features are bloated
His eyelids can’t close
He looks battered, beaten, and bruised
The various responses
From visitors of Christian
Teach us to prepare visitors first
Christian’s condition
Improves every day
Everything is relative
Five days in STICU
Five nights on the waiting room floor
As we begin to take shifts
We meet and share tragedies
With families of other wounded
And admitted to Hermann
We see families defeat death
We see some that do not
Tears, sorrow, and hope fill this place
More operations for Chris
Plastic surgeons will close
His wounds we call stumps
A skin graph taken from Chris
Placed over the stumps
The tendon sown
I pray for my son
When I haven’t for years
It seems curiously right
On day three
He begins to respond
To voice commands
Subtle movements in his fingers
Then he wiggles his toes
We celebrate each victory
His progress is slow
Progress seems steady
His prognosis is good
We give thanks to the Lord
For saving our Chris
From near certain death
Chris begins to pull at his tubes
As the conciseness resumes
And aggravation sets in
He becomes more restless
Delirium becomes his companion
As day turns to night
Chris comes to know us
Recognition then fallacy
Worry follows hope
ICU psychosis is warned
They move him to a room
On the fifth floor
Dr. Red Duke visits later
He states Chris needs better care
We go back to SIMU the next day
Three more days and nights
Delirium stays more than goes
Our Chris struggles within
Long sleepless nights
My Barbara is strong
Unwavering determination
I have known for years that my Barbara is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Recently, it has become clear that she is the best thing that could happen to anybody.
Chris becomes stronger
Delirium disappears during the day
He is moved to Floor 6
Re-Hab discussions bring hope
His memory is coming back
Our Chris is returning
Day 16 brings the first restful night
We feel some weight
Lifted from Christian
Christian comes home
To finish healing his stumps
A month after the explosion
He is in good spirits
We are a thankful bunch
As Christmas approaches
When Chris is told that our definition of “normal” has to change. He rejects it. He says “Normal is two arms and two legs, I’m not normal, but I really wasn’t all that normal before the accident…and I’m ok with that.
I continue to learn from Chris
From our family and friends
My heart has been opened like never before
Our family will gather for Christmas
The Sun is warm on my face
Life’s simple pleasures are recognized
Chris overcomes struggles that life presents
He transitions remarkably back into the game
His attitude and perspective make me proud
My son stood today
He is making his way
Life is good
