He lay in the hospital bed unaware of what was happening around him. The team of doctors had given him a powerful anesthetic to put him in a coma. He was oblivious of his pain, his blood, and the chaos that was taking place around him. This room was anything but homey. The walls were white and stale. The floors; cold, white linoleum. The bathrooms were sterile and looked as if no one had ever set foot in there. There was plenty of room to move about, but no how, no way, could anyone get comfortable. No decorations. Everything labeled and nothing out of order. He couldn’t see this though, only visitors were aware of the spotlessly clean, colorless space.
Every few minutes they reduced the amount of anesthetic that was leading to his I.V. They wanted to arouse the coma induced man so they could try and remove his intubation tube and ensure he could breathe on his own. As they waited they took a sample of the mucous from the tube to make certain he didn’t have an infection or pneumonia. As the medicine wore off the man awoke, naive to what was going on or where he was. He tried to rip the tube from his throat, gagging until the nurse and doctor rationalize to the man what was taking place and what was required for him to do to assist them in the process.
His wife; the only person allowed to visit, held his hand tightly as she clarified what had happened the week before. He listened intently, knowing it was serious. His whole life he had been a comic, but at this moment he knew he had to keep the jokes minimal in hopes to not upset his wife. He gazed into her eyes, much in love and was thankful that she was by his side through all of this. With her by his side he was sure he could endure anything life was throwing at him. Asking no questions until she was finished speaking, he tried to wrap his mind around what was happening. He had hydroplaned on the way to work at the mill last Wednesday, and wrapped his wife’s little Toyota around a telephone pole. He had a broken back, severe nerve damage, muscle damage and he had lost almost total feeling in his legs. In the process of the diagnosis the doctors had found a startling discovery. He had the bone density of an 85 year old woman. At 34 years old he had developed osteoporosis. Typically a female disease and generally wasn’t diagnosed or progressive till the person was much, much older.
He walked stiffly and slowly towards kitchen window. Gazing out, he could see his children in the big backyard playing a game of baseball, using the small apple tree as home base. A sport he played throughout his life and even into his adult years, he could never do again. He wanted to have the joy and experience of physically supporting them when they needed a hand. Not being able to do life’s simplest things, like running and playing, giving his little girl shoulder rides through the woods, pulling them in sleds to check the maple trees for sap, and teaching them to play horseshoes was going to be an obstacle he needed to overcome.
He never displayed his hurt, his bodily suffering or the damage the accident had done to his heart. He was passionately strong for his family. The people he had grown to love, support and to not live without. He needed to teach his children a moral, a life lesson that they would carry throughout their entire lives. One that he had learned at a very young age from his father.
No one really has a bad life, not even a bad day, just moments. Stop dwelling on yesterday because today is a new day. Life is not fair, and if a bump in the road comes, jump it, till you get to the top of the mountain.