A Beautiful Nightmare

Have you ever experienced a time in your life when you feel as though everything was calm, and you have the notion to say, "Shhh… don't move?"

I had been living in this state for a few days. I was living in a surreal state of goodness that I noticed all around me and my family. Life is always far from perfect, but I felt a deep sense of calm…wondering if it was calm before a storm. I wasn't afraid something terrible would happen per se…but I recognized God was up to something.

I can now see that God was placing me in a spiritual bubble, bracing me for impact.

On October 7th, it was a beautiful fall day. I had started the day hosting a women's event at my church. I felt blessed to be surrounded by such loving women. My husband David was home with our children as we progressed on a very large remodel on the outside of our home. We were residing the house, and my husband had several friends over helping us complete a big part of the project. Isaac was outside helping him cut boards and nail them on. Isaac is always happiest when he is working. Jonah was out and about, and Harlo and Emmy were playing.

I was in and out all day, running around and getting ready for the wives and kids of our friends to join us for burgers as a thank-you for their help. I tidied up the house and put in a grocery order. My 15-year-old Isaac had asked me multiple times throughout the day if I would drive him to a Young Life event at 6:30 in the evening. When I learned the party was nearby, I agreed to take him even though we would be hosting.

Our friends began to arrive as I prepared dinner. 6:20 approached, and Isaac was anxious to get to the party. Standing behind the counter, I watched Isaac put on his new, clean white Vans. He wore jeans and a green and black flannel over his favorite white t-shirt. His long hair poked out from behind his backward cap. In this small moment, I took notice of my handsome son. My sons have always impressed me as they have grown into young, independent men.

I told my friends I would return in fourteen minutes as the party was only seven minutes away. As we approached the car in the driveway, I noticed our neighbor was driving by.

"Why must I take you when you could have gone with Charlie?" I asked.

"Because I want to drive to the party, Mom." He said.

He had just received his driving permit a few weeks earlier and was always looking for an opportunity to get behind the wheel. I was slightly annoyed at his request but knew that it was important to him. So we drove the seven minutes to the party, white-knuckled and nervous as always when I rode with a new teen driver. We approached the house, and he pulled down the slanted driveway. I noticed the beautiful, white home on the luscious property and knew he would be safe, as the Young Life group was the best place to hang out with his friends. He jumped out of the car with hardly a goodbye, and I told him to have a good time and to let me know when to come get him or try to find a ride home.

I backed out of the driveway and drove home promptly as I had hungry guests. We enjoyed good food, conversation, and laughter as the guys ended their work. We chased our small kids around and talked about all the mom things.

They all left around 8:30 p.m., and I told Emmy we could watch Rapunzel. I changed my clothes and slipped into my cozy, gray pajama set. I grabbed my water bottle and snuggled onto the couch with my precious six-year-old girl. I noticed I hadn't sat down all day, so I appreciated the quiet rest. I had left my phone upstairs because I was tired of it and didn't think I would need it until I knew Isaac would text me about his plan to get home.

After a few minutes of settling in, I could hear my phone ringing from upstairs. I thought it was unusual and wondered who It would be. As I climbed the stairs, I could hear David's phone ring and listen to him answer. "What??" He said as he exited the bathroom with the phone on speaker.

I heard Isaac's calm but frantic voice say, "Mom, I snapped my foot and need an ambulance." I replied, "What, are you sure?? It's bad enough to call an ambulance?" "YES MOM! I NEED AN AMBULANCE!"

At that moment, in my utter shock and confusion,I knew he was serious. I could hear another mom gently tell me that he was very hurt and asked if they could call the paramedics. I told her that I would make the call. I called 911 and relayed the incident to the operator as I slipped off my pajamas and put back on the jeans and sweatshirt I had been wearing all day. I gave them the address, and they told me the ambulance was on its way. I hung up the phone, ran downstairs, grabbed my keys and wallet, slipped on my shoes, kissed Emmy on the forehead, and ran out the door. I remembered exactly where the home was. I drove quickly and got another call from Isaac. I wasn't sure what was happening, but my shaking body and sobs knew. I told him it would all be OK, and I was on my way." I'm OK, mom… I'm fine." He said confidently. He was clearly in shock.

The other mom told me calmly that there was blood. A break and blood. I couldn't compute what that meant in my shocked state of mind. I approached the house again, just as I had done two hours earlier. The ambulance was just arriving. I pulled down the slanted driveway behind the bright, flashing lights. I parked in a graveled area and jumped out of my car. Andrea, the mom I had heard speak earlier on the phone, and the party host, saw me and asked if I was mom. I told her I was, and she directed me to the back of the house. I walked through several parked cars with yelps of tears bursting out of me, not knowing what I would see.

As I rounded the house onto the wet grass, I could see the trampoline lit up with flashlights, and as soon as I realized he was still on the trampoline, I started to run. I approached the trampoline as several of his friends were surrounding it. I could see a man with a headlamp hovering over Isaac, who was lying on his side. He had Isaac's leg wrapped in a bloody towel, and the man was placing his body weight on it. I reached inside the net but could not contact Isaac. He looked up and said, "Hiiiii, mom." I told him I was there, and he continued to say, "I'm fine, I'm fine." He clearly was not. The man looked at me and said, "his leg is broken." I gasped back.

It is interesting how God created our bodies and minds to go into shock when things like this happen.

David called right at that moment as if he knew I would need him. I told him that Isaac had broken his leg and it has burst through the skin. I took short deep breaths and tried to compose myself. David was in shock as well but assured me it was all going to be ok.

I understood what the man holding Isaac’s leg was saying but it just sat on the surface of on consciousness. It was unable to sink in. The shock blocked the reality as I needed to be strong. Andrea and another mom came over with hugs, saying they were sad that this was how we were meeting. They asked me over and over if I was OK. One of the paramedics had me step to the side to help him fill in Isaac's information on his laptop. He asked me many questions. I answered them but had trouble remembering my phone number. He explained that they had placed an IV and were giving Isaac morphine.

They wrapped his leg in a bean bag-like wrap to keep the leg and foot in one place. I still didn't know the extent of the injury as I wasn't close to him. Once they got him stable, they slid him onto a large plastic board, out of the trampoline, and onto a stretcher. I followed him out of the backyard as Andrea handed me a cozy blanket for him. I remember clearly commenting on her home's beauty, in my own sense of shock.

I could see the group of Isaac’s friends sitting on the back porch, watching, waiting to hear if their friend was ok. Several of them heard the snap and were the ones to run for help. The party turned somber as I am sure after we drove away the mom’s were left to clean up the emotional mess.

They placed Isaac in the ambulance as I discussed with one of the responders whether I should drive my car or ride with Isaac. I was going back and forth as the responder recommended that I take my own car for logistical reasons. He also told me that if I did ride with him, I would have to be in the front seat. At that point, I didn't see a reason to go with him. He also told me that it was good for his independence for me not to be hovering over him.

Letting go of your children as they grow is excruciating, but this cuts to the core. I understood, but it was heartbreaking for my mama's heart. He told me what would most likely happen was they would brace or cast his leg, and we would go home that night. Surgery was unlikely.

I stepped into the side door of the ambulance, up two steps, and stood behind Issac. He looked up and back at me again assuring me that he was ok. I kissed him on the forehead and told him I would see him at the hospital.

The lovely moms gave me sparkling water and blankets and helped me into my car. I pulled around directly behind the ambulance and waited for them to leave. One of the responders came out and told me that they had just performed a retraction on Isaac's leg, and he handled it like a champ, even without extra pain meds. A retraction is when they put a brace on the leg and pull the foot until the bone jumps back to where it is supposed to be. Doing this immediately helps with a speedier recovery as the leg doesn't get used to being in a wonky position. The responder was so impressed with Isaac, as was I. I was glad I knew they did the retraction after it ended. They know what mom's hearts can handle.

We pulled out of the slanted driveway and headed for Mary Bridge Children's Hospital in Tacoma. I could already see David had sent many group texts to family and friends alerting them of what had happened. I called my parents and sister on the way to the hospital, reiterating everything. I meant to follow the ambulance but got distracted and made a wrong turn, I just filled my gut trying to get out of the complex neighborhood roads and finally found the highway entrance. The dark rain surrounded me as I drove the twenty minutes. When I arrive at the hospital highway exit I pulled up right behind the ambulance. I knew it was Isaac. I then followed the ambulance, and once they pulled into the hospital section that I couldn't go to, I was left disoriented, unsure where to park. I had been there before, but nothing looked familiar.

I finally found a random parking garage, pulled the ticket, parked, grabbed my wallet, phone, blanket and a La Croix and started walking quickly to where I believed the entrance to be. It was on a dark road with hardly anyone around. My heart was pounding as I began to run. I found the door and told the security guard where I was headed, he placed a wristband on me and directed me to the second floor. I couldn't wait for the elevator, so I sprinted up the two flights of stairs. I approached the E.R. desk with deep breaths, telling them my son had just been brought in by ambulance. They took his name and directed me back to room 17.

I walked quickly down the hall and into the room. His face lit up when he saw me. I could now get a good look at him. His jeans were destroyed, cut, and covered in blood. His leg was wrapped, but his foot lay on its side, even as his knee was straight up .His foot only attached my flesh. I slowly started to learn what had happened as Isaac began explaining. He was on the trampoline with several friends and he had asked one of his friends to double bounce him to see how high he could get. As he came down, he may have landed wonky on someone and it snapped both his tibia and fibula in half bursting them through the skin.

He said he knew it was bad when he lifted his leg and his foot just dangled. He immediately tried to wiggle his toes which he could but the firs thing he thought was “ I won’t get to wrestle.” If you know our family, you know that we are wrestling fanatics from November to February. Isaac and Jonah both wrestle on their high school team and it is their greatest joy. They both excel at the sport and we have learned to love the wrestling, spending most of our winter Saturdays in the stands cheering or screaming on our boys. This is major loss for Isaac and our whole family. At least for this season.

I was focused on Isaac's face and his state of mind. He would jolt his eyes open when the pain hit and look straight at me. The doctors and nurses were in and out, assessing the situation and deciding how best to proceed. I continued to try texting updates to David. When my oldest son Jonah arrived, his face was terror, but he stood by him stoically. I was thankful for the support.

We cut his bloody jeans off and slid them out from under his body as gently as we could. I pulled off his bloody sock and threw it all away. The doctor told me they needed to unwrap the wound to clean it before wrapping it back up. I could hear them say "O.R." several times and asked why. The doctor said, "Oh, he is going into surgery." At this point, as I could see the extent of the injury, it made sense.

They cleaned the wound with saline as I stood by seeing the wound first hand. There was a large, gaping hole in my babies leg, flesh and bone mixed in together in one gnarled up mess. I helped Isaac take deep breaths. The doctor had taught him 4-7-8 breathing to help him endure the pain of them lifting the leg to place a stint. I held his hand as he held mine so tight, taking the worst pain of his life. They administered as much pain medication as possible, but the pain was beyond excruciating. I was coaching him to breathe, but it annoyed him as he thundered, "I know how to breathe, Mom!" I just stood there praying for Jesus to comfort him and help him endure the pain. They held his leg in the air with his foot attached only by the flesh for several minutes as they wrapped and placed a stint under his entire leg. The doctor had mentioned that he wanted to return his foot to its rightful place but she soon realized that would have been too much to bear, so she wrapped it in its place. She told me it was not anatomically correct, but her job was not to align the bones but to stabilize him.

Once that was over, his leg was supported, but the pain was still an 8 or a 9. I was spinning, trusting that the medical staff were doing their best to care for Isaac. I could not produce a clear thought or have the where with all to even ask questions.

They told me the surgery would have to wait until the morning because it was the weekend. Once all that was settled, it got quiet. He was in shock, as was I. I sent Jonah home because he cannot drive past 1 a.m. I lay on the bench in the room as we waited to be taken to his own room. My mind spun, I was anxious and unsure about what would happen next. I couldn't see past this moment. My mind was blank but I knew where I was, just going through the motions.

Finally, they came in and we wheeled the bed up to floor six and got him slid into a hospital bed. I walked into the sterile room, and my eyes immediately went to the makeshift chair bed for family members. I was struck with memories of enduring sleepless nights on a similar bed just over ten years ago. When Isaac's dad, Benji, was dying from cancer, I spent two weeks in a hospital room with him. This triggered unpleasant memories, but I pushed through, walked over to the couch, and set down the white, plastic belongings bag. It was filled with Isaac's shirt, hat, and belt. My wallet and phone, as I didn't grab my purse when I rushed out of the house, and the warm blanket I had been sent off with.

They hooked up Isaac to his pain meds and administered more antibiotics. They had him on a two-hour regiment of alternating pain meds and valium as needed.

Once we were settled, it was close to 2 a.m., and we were left alone to process. We both remained calm and tried to nestle in for the night. I pulled out the bed and laid the white sheet over the slippery material. I unfolded two hospital blankets and laid them out, hoping to form some sort of cushion. I was thankful for the cozy blanket .

They gave me a pair of scrubs, so I didn't have to wear my jeans, and brought me a toothbrush. I laid down, but was agonizing over Isaac reeling in pain all night. He was hallucinating and talking in his sleep. He jolted awake every few minutes. Jolting me up.

This triggered memories of one night in particular with Benji. He had just come out of surgery, and I endured a long night of him in excruciating, unmanagable pain. Isaac looked just like his dad as he lay there that night, uncomfortable and moaning. I was triggered but well enough past that particular trauma to have the strength to endure and to be strong enough to help Isaac through this. The Lord is gentle with us, even when He allows traumatic events.

I tried to rest but in between Isaac’s jolt and dings on my phone it was nearly impossible.

Early that morning, the nurse came in to tell us that Isaac's surgery was scheduled for 9 a.m. I immediately called Dave and told him to get to the hospital soon if he and Jonah wanted to see him before heading into surgery. I didn't even bother to ask him for a change of clothes or any comforts from home. I just wanted him there.

They came around 8:30 to prep Isaac for surgery and take him to the surgical floor. Isaac was wheeled into pre-op and placed in a tiny room. The surgeon came in to again describe precisely what would take place. They planned to spend most of the time cleaning the wound, drilling out his fibula, and placing a 9mm rod inside. They needed to make an incision just below his knee and one on the top of his foot to put in the rod and screws.

The nurse went over the documents for consent, and I signed them. I wasn’t clear headed enough to read through the entire thing but the nurse explained it as best as she could to my blank mind. I was in complete surrender and trust to these educated healthcare workers whose job was to take the best possible care of my son.

Isaac was most nervous about being put under. He just wanted to get it over with. Dave and Jonah walked in. David's face was somber as he looked at Isaac for the first time. Pure love of a father. The doctor called him dad, which is true but also settled in my soul as I took note of his stoic place of a father. I felt so much thankfulness that God brought David to us after the passing of Benji.

The anesthesiologist came in and explained to Isaac the procedure for putting him to sleep for surgery. We were assured that Isaac would be put to sleep and fully monitored. I was nervous to have my son in this scenario, but I had to trust God and the doctors.

After a few minutes, it was time to take him to surgery, and the doctor wheeled him out. My heart raced as we walked behind him as the doctor pushed the bed through the doors we could not follow. As the door closed, emotion overcame me as we walked down the hall. Jonah put his arm around me and let me cry. We spent the next 2.5 hours waiting for Isaac. Praying and updating friends and family. We received several text updates assuring us that the patient was doing well.

After I finally got something to eat at the coffee shop, we headed back to his room to wait. We turned on a movie, and I snuggled on the tiny couch to rest, but I was restless and anxious to see my baby boy again. Finally, we received the update that he was recovering and would return to us shortly. After a little while, they wheeled him into the room. He was clearly sleepy and unaware of what was going on. He looked pale, and I was concerned about the amount of blood loss from the injury and surgery. They tested his blood and soon discovered his low levels, but a blood transfusion was unnecessary. Thank you, Jesus!

After about an hour, he returned to life and ate a bowl of Ramen that Dave and Jonah had picked up. After that, he fell back asleep for a long time. Dave and Jonah left that evening. When Isaac woke up and was more coherent I asked him if he felt traumatized by what happened and it his normal fashion he said “Nah…i’m fine.” I was sure that he was still in shock and at some point it would wear off.

That night, he was more settled as his pain was more controlled. However, getting woken up every two hours by nurses is brutal, and neither of us really slept. He endured pain mainly from the incisions that had to be made under his knee and near the top of his food to place in the rod and screws. This was normal but awful. We were woken up by nurses early that morning. They unwrapped his foot and it was incredibly swollen and the stitches and incisions cringe worthy. His swollen feet triggered a memory of Benji's feet shortly before he passed. Isaac has always had Benji's feet, so this was a shocking sight. I took it in, turned my head, took a deep breath, and kept my eyes on Isaac. They assured me the wounds looked nice and taught me how to care for them after we got home.

The surgeon was able to show me the before and after X-rays and explained to me exactly what had happened to to his foot and exactly how they had repaired it.

Isaac was incredibly anxious to get home to his own bed. He was unsettled and could not get comfortable. He had zero appetite and was anxious for his physical therapy appointment. At one point he started to shake and said he didn’t feel cold but couldn’t stop shaking. He started to spew out all that had happened night. He began explaining in great detail and I told him to keep talking, even if he was repeating himself. The shock was wearing off and the trauma was setting in. It was good to see him process although it was hard to know what to say. I just listened and encouraged him to keep processing. It was good that it was coming out. He had experienced something deeply traumatic and it needed to be processed.

Physical therapy did arrive around noon, and began to speak to Isaac about what this would look like. They needed to get him up and assess his ability to walk on crutches. They also needed to ensure he could navigate stairs on crutches before they would release him. We have a lot of stairs at our house, so this was of utmost importance.

The physical therapist and her assistant got Isaac to a standing position with the crutches, but he became nauseous and lightheaded. We moved him to the recliner, and he rested there to see if it would subside. After a few minutes, he still wasn't feeling well, so they decided to come back later to work on the stairs.

As soon as they left, Isaac got a surprise visit from his best friends, Charlie and Henry. It cheered him up immediately. Isaac is my most social child, and time with friends always lights him up. They were so excited to see each other and immediately jumped into the gruesome story and how it all happened. These friends happened to be at the same party where the incident occurred, so they swapped stories back and forth about Isaac's epic injury. A little while later, they were able to cheer him on (literally) as he navigated the stairs with the crutches. I let the boys hang out for a bit, chatting, and my dear friend Sara, Charlie's mom, sat with me on the little couch and gave me just what I needed: a hug, some sparkling water, and conversation. She also brought me a bag from home, fresh clothes, and my face wash.

After they left, the doctors assessed Isaac's pain levels and with the approval from P.T., he was released. I got the room packed up. It is incredible how much we accumulated in just 48 hours. As the nurse pushed Isaac down to the parking lot, I ran down to get the car. We got him situated in the car, laying down in the back seat, nestled on some blankets, and we were off.

Isaac and I noted our first breath of fresh air in two days as we left the hospital. The simple things we take for granted in our everyday lives.

As we drove him home, I continued to fight the tears that I had been holding in since we got admitted to the hospital. Isaac clearly saw me upset when I arrived on the scene and in the E.R. but shock set in for me as well and I was able to keep it at bay during our stay. I knew that at some point the emotions would be unleashed.

We arrived home to a very excited family, and we got Isaac up the six stairs in the garage and into his room. Dave had cleaned it up with fresh sheets. It took us a bit of moving things around to get the situation comfortable for him.

After we got him settled and I felt like I could step away, I went upstairs to take a much needed shower. I could feel the emotions bubbling up and I heard Isaac call for me. I sucked them back in and ran down to see what he needed. When I was finally upstairs again, I walked into the bathroom and shut the door. Just as if I had turned on a fire hose the tears poured out in a loud wail. I fell to the floor as I unleashed all the emotions of what I had experienced the last 48 hours. I was overcome with sheer anguish and my cry came out in familiar tones, similar to my widow cry. It was loud and excruciating in a healing sort of way. I had just snapped at David before I had come upstairs but needed him. We were both on edge and we needed to feel this together. I got myself together enough to call for him and when he walked in the room I said “ I’m not doing ok.” and the floodgates were opened again. He got down on his knees and pulled me in close and let me cry. Hot, wet years ran down his shirt as it was my turn to spew out the details of seeing Isaac immobilized by pain and horrific injury. I let it spew out and was finally able to catch my breath. David continue to hold me close until I could sit back on my own. We took some deep, healing breaths and sighed. This was a first for us. We had been through a lot but pure trauma and horrific injury of one of our kids was a first.

The last few days have been a blur of three-hour around-the-clock medications, friend visits, dinner deliveries, taking care of Isaac's every need, and loving on him as much as I can. I liken it to the feeling of having a baby. The pure exhaustion of lack of sleep and being needed constantly. Each night I am plagued with traumatic thoughts of what I witnessed. I play the scene of him on the trampoline broken and bleeding over and over in my head. I could hear the snap that he described over and over. I could see his wide eyes as he jolted in pain. Isaac is still reliving it as he will just start talking about it all, telling me the story like I had never heard it. We are processing. We are healing. We are doing this together.

David left for work Monday morning and text me later telling me that on the drive it hit him. He cried as he unthawed from the shock, realizing all that Isaac has lost. All that we will need to walk him through.

I am learning to cherish this time with Isaac as this will most likely be the last time that he will need me so desperately.

We have had a sweet time reading devotionals as I pour truths into his heart about God's love for him and how God has shown up for us. I reminded him of the verse,

"Be still, and know that I am God." Psalm 46:1.

Isaac is still right now, so I am encouraging him to listen to God without all the distractions of everyday living.

Here I sit, one week into our horrific tale. Isaac and I got the chills this morning talking about our normal Saturday and how it turned so quickly.

I am in awe of the goodness of God. I say this all the time: that God is good no matter what we go through. I have felt his presence, I have the many felt prayers, and I have felt a peace that doesn't make sense. Sometimes I wonder why I feel OK, and I remember….God. He is fulfilling His promises.

I pray constantly for the safety of my children. Even though God allowed his horrible accident to occur, I can look back and see the bubble God places us in to ease the shock. I can see God taking care of Isaac from the moment his leg snapped, as his friend's dad had just been trained by firefighters for incidents like this. I can see God loving on me through the mom’s on the scene, loving and caring for me in my fragile state. I can see God's blessings in the expertise of the paramedics and hospital staff.

I am thankful for the measure of healing that I have gained from past trauma and how that this experience has positioned me in a strong place with Jesus, trusting His every move.

It could have been worse, as horrific as this is. We could be dealing with a life-altering back or neck injury. His injury is brutal and painful, and he will have a gnarly scar where the bone broke out. It will be months before we regain any sort of normalcy, but I continue to tell Isaac that God is not done with him. He has a purpose in this pain, and this is a story that he can tell his whole life.

As we walk out these next few months we will lean on Jesus to help Isaac learn to walk again, while loving him through all of his losses. Wrestling, driving, dirt biking and snowboarding will be a big fat no until he has properly healed. I am thankful these are only temporary losses but for my non-stop, active Isaac it will take the miraculous work of Jesus to keep up his spirits and great strength for us to help him navigate these dark roads.

He is a solid and resilient kid. I have a hard time seeing past all the hurdles he will need to climb to get back to school and any sort of regular life, but I know it's there. My heart hurts as I see him cringe in pain as I move his leg or help him up to the bathroom. My mom's heart is bursting and jumping back in my memory to his first days of life when he was 100% dependent on me.

It is hard to let our kids grow and venture out on their own. It is hard to allow them to mature and find their independence. Risk is involved every time I let them leave the house, but I still trust God.

I have been given this opportunity to allow God to take my most sacred people and give me a front-row seat to His goodness despite pain and misery.

We are trying to wean him off pain meds, move his leg as much as he can tolerate, and hopefully get him back to school in a wheelchair within the next couple of weeks.

After much deliberation with myself, I went to Bible study last night. As I got in the car, I noticed Isaac's clean, white vans he wore the last time he left the house. I cringed at the memories of carrying his shoes from the trampoline that night. But they are a symbol of strength for him. We will celebrate a full recovery when he can wear these shoes again.

He is mentally strong, and I pray that this will solidify in his heart how much he is loved and cherished by his family and his creator.

Stay tuned for updates on Isaac’s healing journey!

To Isaac: YOU GOT THIS KID!!!!