One of the adoption blogs I follow has a series called Memorial Box Monday. They have an actual box full of things that remind them of how God has worked in their lives. Through her writing, I have been reminded of the ways God has working in my own family's lives.
So, I'm plagiarizing the Memorial Box Monday concept and telling you a story of ours.
I'm wearing a t-shirt today that says The Nebraska Medical Center. This was my "souvenir" from the events of one year ago. Let me take you back there...
[cue twinkley music and fade to dream scene]
It was July, 2011. Zach had been home for a nice visit for most of June, and had just gone back to Nebraska. Annaliese had just had eye surgery. Hannah had just gotten her prosthetic leg and was doing weekly physical therapy. My cell phone rang one night, and it was Zach.
"Mom, I'm at the hospital."
There's a hand shaking surreal-ness that comes over you when you hear those words. Especially when you know that child is 2 time zones away from you.
My son had had an accident involving fireworks and testosterone. He explained what happened, and I asked if he wanted me to fly out there. When he immediately said yes, I knew he was really hurting. We had to get off the phone so he could be transferred to a burn unit. I made flight reservations for first thing the next morning and sat and trembled.
I made those flights not really knowing what to expect. This was the first surprise hospitalization we've dealt with. At the time, we didn't know how good/bad things were.
On the flight from Denver to Omaha, God sent me a chatty Mormon boy to talk to and keep my mind occupied. He promised to pray for Zach, which was sweet.
When I arrived in Omaha, one of Zach's air force buddies was at the airport to pick me up and take me to the hospital. We got lost on the way to the hospital, which was par for the course, since I get lost going just about anywhere. Eventually, we checked in shortly before midnight on July 3. I spent the next 12 days inside that building.
I have to say, I was so impressed with how well he dealt with everything. He had 3rd degree burns to over 14% of his body. He had to have extensive skin graft surgery. He was in pain. And yet, he kept a good attitude and really only complained about the various tubes they stuck in his body.
I am so grateful to God for so many facets of this experience. 1) Zach was not permanently damaged. 2) His burns didn't get infected. 3) Paul was able to take time off work so I could go be with Zach. 4) Zach's surgeon deemed it medically necessary for me to be there, so the air force reimbursed some of my travel costs. 5) The medical center has guest quarters, so I was able to stay on-site. 6) Zach was able to return home to recuperate.
Things could have been much worse.
For me, fireworks will always be a reminder of that time, and the way that God carried us through it.