Neither Reed nor I had slept when the doctors began making rounds the morning after the wreck. The neurologist came in first. He used words like ICP, fentanyl, EVD, ativan, sodium levels… He said Ethan would never be able to be play football. I remember thinking, “I don’t care if he ever plays anything. I just wanted him to live!”

The Chief of Staff made rounds with the medical students after that. The staff had this time every morning when they (the on duty nurse, residents, student doctors and the doctor on call) met with each family in the PICU to discuss what was going on with the patient as well as goals and treatments for the day. It was a way for everyone to stay informed. I knew each morning I would hear how he was responding to what they were doing as well as mention anything that was concerning me about him. After she had rounded with all of the patients and families, she came back to prep Ethan for surgery. She said they would try to clean the wound from Ethan’s compound fracture; they did not want infection to set in and spread. I had NO idea of the ordeal that was about to take place. I also had no idea that they were very concerned that he might lose his foot. The nursing staff and respiratory staff accompanied her. She directed them, instructed them, and made sure we had somewhat of an understanding of what was going on. I was clueless and tried to stay out of the way. While many of our friends were traveling that morning to Birmingham, Reed and I witnessed the most extraordinary thing. The Chief of the Pediatric Staff stood on a stool at the end of Ethan’s bed watching his monitors. She would instruct the nursing staff on dosages and rates. They obeyed each order. If they had a question or suggestion, she listened and responded. She explained to them why she would make a change. She didn’t bark orders, there was a dialogue, respect, between her and her staff. She gained my trust in that moment.

She stood there fine tuning for about an hour….Watching, adjusting, waiting. It was like watching a movie scene. No doubt, she had many folks praying for her, and I would later learn that she was/is a Godly woman who was very active in her church as well as in mission work. If I asked her a question, she answered it in terms I could understand. Never did she make me feel as if I was in the way or insignificant. She not only was treating my son, but she was also treating Reed and me. I was still shell shocked. I am sure she had witnessed that glazed over, grief stricken, sleep deprived look in my eyes many times before. But this was my first time, and she was so kind.

I remember being so grateful that she had used her talents, intelligence and life to help others. I am sure that came at a cost to her own family. Thank you. Dr. Winkler.

They came to get Ethan shortly after that for surgery. I had to sign so many concent forms. If they suggested it, I signed!

Because of his critical nature he had to be escorted by a doctor, nurse, and respritory therapist to the surgical floor. When we got to the holding room for surgery, the team assured us he was in good hands. I had never had a child undergo a surgical procedure before…ever. They walked us thru everything from the procedure to telling us to give him a goodbye hug and kisses.

For his second surgical procedure a few days later, they didn’t do all of this. Thinking back on it, I wonder if they wanted to make sure we had said “goodbye” to him in case he did not make it thru surgery. None the less, it just went to show that these people treated the whole family, not just the patient.

While Ethan was in surgery, friends and family began to arrive. The ministry of presence is powerful. I am typically an introvert, but I needed my friends during that time. I am so grateful for each visit, card, text, call we received during our stay, especially during the first month.

After surgery we met Ethan upstairs in his room as well as a waiting room full of friends and family and so much food and snacks!

I was so tired that night. I remember when John and Brittany left. They were the last of our family to leave that night. I was so afraid for them to leave and drive home so late. I had never really feared it before, but now, after experiencing just how a moment can alter EVERYTHING, I was scared for them to go.

I still struggle with this. When I leave my classroom on Fridays, I think back to the Friday I left to not return until months later. I used to be a planner. Planning gives me anxiety now, because you just never know. I don’t want to get my heart set on something…even if it is dinner 2 weeks from now. Growing older gives you perspective. Life experiences give you perspective. But, there has to be balance. I try to not be to weird about plans, but plans scare me. I have learned better to take one moment at a time.

I also have grown to long for my heavenly home. Where there is no fear, death, accidents and certainly no brain injuries…just eternity with Jesus and loved ones!