It was time for the second round of surgeries. Bruce and Avery had been in the hospital all night, and upon the second meeting with a doctor, they were painted an even clearer picture of the reality of the situation.
“We have undergone the first evasive surgery, but Colby still has severe internal hemorrhaging. Most of the shards of glass have been removed, but his legs are still a threat to his livelihood. We need to stabilize his condition so that we can evacuate him to the nearest facility which will provide the right care.”
The two standing before the doctor felt their hearts sink yet again as the weight of the moment hit them like a freight train on a straight-a-way. “Why hasn’t he already been shipped out?” Bruce said in a commanding tone of an ex-drill instructor at Fort Bragg.
“We have to ensure that his condition has stabilized to make the trip. If he is internal hemorrhaging in his legs that is bad enough, the trip could be hazardous to his health. If we stop it forthright, he will be fine for it, then the matter at hand will be with his legs, and that responsibility will be shifted to the hands of other, more specialized doctors. I will keep you updated after the surgery.”
“I’ll go call Sami this time,” Avery said as she looked up at Bruce with a tear sodden face. She hadn’t showered and her hair was falling out of the loose bun that she prepared the day before as she was getting ready for work. Some blond strands still diligently stayed where she wanted them while others fell down, straight, like rain to her shoulders, ears and the beginning of her spine. She turned and started for the parking lot door.
“I’ll wait here, babe. Are you okay?” Bruce said, knowing the answer just as the words slipped out of his mouth.
Avery turned back. “My son is in critical condition in a hospital, my girl isn’t even here yet, I am a mess, and I haven’t had any sleep for the past 24 hours. What the hell do you think?” Avery, at the point of insanity snapped back at Bruce in the waiting room. The receptionist quickly disappeared from behind her computer game of solitaire to a back room due to the rising heat of the words coming from Avery.
Bruce squinted his eyes to slits and bit his lip. “This is not the time nor the place to turn on me, Avery. We are both feeling this. I was only offering a bit of consolation, don’t take it out of proportion. I am going to wait here, go see why Sami isn’t here yet.” Bruce’s temperature below his skin drastically raised. His face reddened to a pinkish-reddish color and the muscles in his face and neck all contracted and bulged at once throughout his speech. Avery always thought that his mad face was one of the cuter ones that he used, although she never would admit that she would get on his nerves just to see the face. This time was an accidental argument; she merely submitted and dug her phone out of her pocket as she exited the building.
“Mom? What’s wrong?” Sami said nervously as she picked up the phone.
“What is taking you so long? Colby is going through one more surgery and then they are sending him to Portland,” Avery said, feeling better that her daughter answered the phone instead of Erin.
“Erin and I got into an argument. She has to work in the morning and she couldn’t get a hold of anyone. She couldn’t call in sick again and she needed the car, so I rented one. I’m like a couple hours away right now.” Sami was still on-edge from the heated argument and driving as though her ass-end were on fire, then again, the roads were bare and the cops don’t tend to stay out after midnight on this totally black branch of interstate tar surrounded by woods.
“I don’t know. The doctor sounded pretty sure about this surgery going well. Can you still come up? We can pay for the car and the gas – as long as you come.” Avery said, partially because she wanted to see her daughter and partially to keep her away from Erin.
Sami changed in Avery’s mind when she decided to move away to college. She became more dependent upon her friends than her family, and that bothered Avery. Her stunning body attracted mostly useless men – that is, until Sami gave up hunting for men a couple years ago. Avery never quite forgave her for turning lesbian; instead, she dealt with it, holding her inner emotions in.
“Okay, I’ll be there soon. Tell daddy I love him!”
Avery felt a chill go up her spine as the cold edged its way through her black wool coat. She went back inside fully intent on leaning against her husband and letting her eyes rest. As she walked back in, she noticed the receptionist had returned from her hiding place. Avery kissed the stubbly cheek of her husband and told him Sami’s location.
Bruce never blinked an eye for the next two morning hours. He just sat with his mind wondering down the treacherous road that his son would now be bound to, never moving. His wife was propped up against him with her head on a pillow that the receptionist willfully found and gave to Avery. The pillow and her pretty head rested on his shoulder. The door to the parking lot finally opened to the face of which Bruce hadn’t seen for all too long.
He immediately got up, awakening his wife as he tried to quickly lay her down on the small couch – more like a large chair. Sami was at his feet before he got the chance to take a step.
He wrapped her in his arms. “Daddy, I missed you. Is Colby gonna be alright?” Her northern accident had faded and a new Southern appeal infected her words along with a tone of insecurity.
“We hope so. Why did you come? I think they are about to send him south soon, we hope, anyways.”
“Mom told me I should come, just in case.”
He never let go for quite a while, until moments later when the doctor came out again. Everybody stood together, anxious for news.
“Colby has gotten through the second surgery with success. We are preparing an ambulance and have already made arrangements and will evacuate him soon. They are prepared to take him. If you want to go in and see him, now is your chance. Follow me.” The doctor already knew they wanted to see him just by their body language. Bruce had piped right up when he found out he could see Colby. Avery almost ran the doctor over in anticipation as he walked down the hall toward Colby’s room.
They all walked into the hospital room. It was hardly big enough for all of them, with all of the equipment and the hospital bed. There was one chair, but they wouldn’t be there long enough to need it. The attention was directed to Colby. Avery tried not to cry again as she looked at numerous scratches and scars all over Colby’s face. She got tangled up in an I.V. tube before she could be at Colby’s side and nearly pulled the drip bag and stand over. Sami decided to go to the other side of Colby to comfort him.
There was a television set on a swinging hinged arm; it almost took out Sami as she went to the other side of the bed, not paying attention. She caught herself off balance and stumbled for a couple of steps, flailing her arms and trying to be quiet. Avery laughed at the sight, partially because she was frantic and needed the laugh, partially because the sight was comical, watching almost six feet sway back and forth while size 10 men’s tennis shoes tried to maneuver and keep up. Her arms were thrown in every which direction to try to capture balance once again.
Bruce did not laugh. The silent man stood at the door, watching Colby relentlessly. There were still no tears, but not a word was said to or from him yet. The doctor even knew better than to talk to him. His unrelenting gaze should have stared the life back into his son as he so wished it would.
Colby remained motionless, eyes closed.
His legs were under the sheets, but his feet did not make any humps. Nobody dared to pull the covers back and look at them.
Avery and Sami stroked at his brown hair, preying with all their heart that he would be okay.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Part 2: Doctor's Analysis 1-26-2010
Mrs. Avery Dickens was in the waiting room. She waited actually for two people.
First, her son’s doctor, she needed to know what had happened, since all she knew was that her son could be found here after the moose accident. Secondly, she waited for her husband, who was still deep in the wilderness working on running property lines for a logging company. He was hard to get a hold during the week, but she notified his boss and, in a not-so-polite way, she ordered him to release Bruce from under his thumb. He obliged, immediately calling cell numbers and seeing who he could contact that around that area.
Three hours away, Bruce frantically clawed at his driver’s side door after finding out that his son was in critical condition in the hospital. It was going to be one wild ride from T3R7 all the way to Presque Isle, but Bruce was on the charge. His mind was fixated on seeing and making sure his son was okay, regardless of losing his job or not – he didn’t know that he had received an indefinite leave of absence from his boss after being ordered by a frantic and orderly Mrs. Dickens.
He sped down the first straight road, keeping his eyes on the turns ahead, hoping not to see a rig rounding any corners near him – they got the right of way over his little pickup truck.
Later in the day, before the doctor had the time to give any update to Avery, Bruce stormed through the double doors of the emergency room and confronted Avery upon seeing her.
“What do we know?”
“Nothing – I mean, he was in a car accident,” Tears had dampened a path down her cheek and were forming mini-puddles on the tiling at her feet that were barely visible unless she were to stand still. Avery couldn’t stand still even when nothing was wrong.
Bruce wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed the top of her head, pressing against her firmly. “Okay. . . Okay,” he said. The second ‘okay’ was just a whisper, barely audible to Avery, but it did offer minimal consolation for her ears. “Has anyone came out that knows any-”
“Noone. I have listened for even a word, a sign, but nobody knows yet!” Partially soothed Avery turned quickly back to a much more frantic Avery as quick as fingers snapping. “I couldn’t get a hold of Sami, I don’t know what to do!”
“Shhh, baby. I’ll go try to call her. She probably just misplaced her cell, or left it at her apartment. Did you try Erin?” Bruce was now talking in a very calming tone starting low and consistently, but slowly raising his tone as he went. His innards were tearing to know the truth. Questions screamed through his head and body.
What happened?
Why Colby?
How bad is it?
“Erin? Hey, how are you? Listen, I need you to tell me where Sami is. There is something very important that I need to tell her first. Is she right there?” Bruce stammered though his speech, ensuring that something was seriously wrong to Erin. She knew that Bruce was a confident enough person to never have a problem with collecting and communicating his thoughts.
“ – Yea, I’ll put her on right now,” Erin’s voice became distant almost as if she was saying now into the air around the phone instead of in the phone. Muffled voices were all Bruce got for the next few seconds.
“Daddy? Whats wrong?” Tears were welling up in Sami’s eyes, and their presence were made known to Bruce instantly, although he was three hours away. For a brief moment, Bruce tried to recall when Sami had called him ‘daddy’ last. “You need to come up here, as soon as possible. Colby got in an –” Bruce paused as emotions raged underneath his thick sweater. His skin rippled under his chin. “An accident. We don’t know anything else, you need to come up,” He said, trying to withhold the lump welling in his throat.
Bruce returned to Avery’s side and they both waited as seconds seemed like hours.
The door to the emergency operation rooms opened and a doctor, dressed in green from head to toe, with the exception of white shoes and a pair of glasses about 5 ½ feet above those white shoes came out holding a clipboard. There were only two in this room of which were seeking an address from a doctor. Avery and Bruce stood simultaneously, anxiously, and fearfully all at once.
“Are you two the parents of Colby Dickens?” The doctor asked.
“Yes.” The retorted answer seemed as though it was the mix of an alto and a base as they both answered in sync. “Is Colby okay? What happened? Is there anything we can do? Can we go see him?” Questions were shot from the two at the doctor as if he were being hounded by the press.
“Colby, as you may already know, was in a car accident. Other than cuts and bruises, his face and most of his upper body is going to be fine, with the exception of maybe a few scars. He has lost a lot of blood and needs rest. His legs,” the doctor paused.
“Will he be able to play golf? The National Pro-Am golf event is coming up soon, and he stands a chance –” Bruce was interrupted by the doctor taking his glasses off and staring at him in concern.
“His legs were mangled in the accident. He has several breaks in all three major bones, and four alone in his femur. His sciatic nerve has been severed below his hip, and his lower back has been broken as well. Golf shouldn’t be on his mind. I’m sorry, he may never be able to walk again.” The doctor stuttered out the last part of his diagnosis. Upon reaching the conclusion, Avery exuded an eerie high pitched sound as she inhaled a deep breath of air too quickly.
“My dear Jesus, help us,” Bruce said just an octave above silence, looking up at the ceiling as tears marched down his stubbly cheek.
First, her son’s doctor, she needed to know what had happened, since all she knew was that her son could be found here after the moose accident. Secondly, she waited for her husband, who was still deep in the wilderness working on running property lines for a logging company. He was hard to get a hold during the week, but she notified his boss and, in a not-so-polite way, she ordered him to release Bruce from under his thumb. He obliged, immediately calling cell numbers and seeing who he could contact that around that area.
Three hours away, Bruce frantically clawed at his driver’s side door after finding out that his son was in critical condition in the hospital. It was going to be one wild ride from T3R7 all the way to Presque Isle, but Bruce was on the charge. His mind was fixated on seeing and making sure his son was okay, regardless of losing his job or not – he didn’t know that he had received an indefinite leave of absence from his boss after being ordered by a frantic and orderly Mrs. Dickens.
He sped down the first straight road, keeping his eyes on the turns ahead, hoping not to see a rig rounding any corners near him – they got the right of way over his little pickup truck.
Later in the day, before the doctor had the time to give any update to Avery, Bruce stormed through the double doors of the emergency room and confronted Avery upon seeing her.
“What do we know?”
“Nothing – I mean, he was in a car accident,” Tears had dampened a path down her cheek and were forming mini-puddles on the tiling at her feet that were barely visible unless she were to stand still. Avery couldn’t stand still even when nothing was wrong.
Bruce wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed the top of her head, pressing against her firmly. “Okay. . . Okay,” he said. The second ‘okay’ was just a whisper, barely audible to Avery, but it did offer minimal consolation for her ears. “Has anyone came out that knows any-”
“Noone. I have listened for even a word, a sign, but nobody knows yet!” Partially soothed Avery turned quickly back to a much more frantic Avery as quick as fingers snapping. “I couldn’t get a hold of Sami, I don’t know what to do!”
“Shhh, baby. I’ll go try to call her. She probably just misplaced her cell, or left it at her apartment. Did you try Erin?” Bruce was now talking in a very calming tone starting low and consistently, but slowly raising his tone as he went. His innards were tearing to know the truth. Questions screamed through his head and body.
What happened?
Why Colby?
How bad is it?
“Erin? Hey, how are you? Listen, I need you to tell me where Sami is. There is something very important that I need to tell her first. Is she right there?” Bruce stammered though his speech, ensuring that something was seriously wrong to Erin. She knew that Bruce was a confident enough person to never have a problem with collecting and communicating his thoughts.
“ – Yea, I’ll put her on right now,” Erin’s voice became distant almost as if she was saying now into the air around the phone instead of in the phone. Muffled voices were all Bruce got for the next few seconds.
“Daddy? Whats wrong?” Tears were welling up in Sami’s eyes, and their presence were made known to Bruce instantly, although he was three hours away. For a brief moment, Bruce tried to recall when Sami had called him ‘daddy’ last. “You need to come up here, as soon as possible. Colby got in an –” Bruce paused as emotions raged underneath his thick sweater. His skin rippled under his chin. “An accident. We don’t know anything else, you need to come up,” He said, trying to withhold the lump welling in his throat.
Bruce returned to Avery’s side and they both waited as seconds seemed like hours.
The door to the emergency operation rooms opened and a doctor, dressed in green from head to toe, with the exception of white shoes and a pair of glasses about 5 ½ feet above those white shoes came out holding a clipboard. There were only two in this room of which were seeking an address from a doctor. Avery and Bruce stood simultaneously, anxiously, and fearfully all at once.
“Are you two the parents of Colby Dickens?” The doctor asked.
“Yes.” The retorted answer seemed as though it was the mix of an alto and a base as they both answered in sync. “Is Colby okay? What happened? Is there anything we can do? Can we go see him?” Questions were shot from the two at the doctor as if he were being hounded by the press.
“Colby, as you may already know, was in a car accident. Other than cuts and bruises, his face and most of his upper body is going to be fine, with the exception of maybe a few scars. He has lost a lot of blood and needs rest. His legs,” the doctor paused.
“Will he be able to play golf? The National Pro-Am golf event is coming up soon, and he stands a chance –” Bruce was interrupted by the doctor taking his glasses off and staring at him in concern.
“His legs were mangled in the accident. He has several breaks in all three major bones, and four alone in his femur. His sciatic nerve has been severed below his hip, and his lower back has been broken as well. Golf shouldn’t be on his mind. I’m sorry, he may never be able to walk again.” The doctor stuttered out the last part of his diagnosis. Upon reaching the conclusion, Avery exuded an eerie high pitched sound as she inhaled a deep breath of air too quickly.
“My dear Jesus, help us,” Bruce said just an octave above silence, looking up at the ceiling as tears marched down his stubbly cheek.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Part one, 1-25-2010
Ahead of a speeding car, just beyond the snow banks, a moose jumped to the top of the bank, even still unnoticed by the distracted driver. It stammered down to the road, fully intent of crossing that moment. It didn’t look both ways; its mother hadn’t taught it that same trick that so many mothers of human childs do. Instead, he moseyed on. He walked in front of the car.
The boy noticed, after looking up from the radio knobs and immediately stiffened. His back straightened against the seat and his arms stiffened in front of him. His knuckles whitened immediately. His eyes were frantic as his leg sent the pressure of the brake fluid against the brake pads raising dramatically. The steering wheel fluttered minimally, but the car shuttered due to the locked front wheels under him. The car and driver were frantically trying to skid around this exasperated moose, desperately trying to stop before any metal was bent, bones were broken, or anything got killed.
The moose finally looked up at the screeching Corolla only moments too late. Had the moose been agile enough, he may have been able to leap across either way. The bulky older moose tried, but to no avail. Old wounds, a gunshot to the rear quarter, staggered his full potential; it sealed his death to this moment, his destiny bound to the car, and the young man, a destiny leaving them both with loss.
The car skidded even still. The front wheels pivoted from the middle of the car, twisting one way or the other, differently each second. The moose still tried to escape, being a mere second from the front bumper, he had no escape. The bumper slid into his front knee, buckling the large moose onto the hood of the car. The car was still moving, the moose slid to the windshield, after further buckling when his rear leg was broken in several places by that same bumper. He rolled, crushing the windshield. Before he could blink, this moose had totaled that car. He was shot over the cab, partially crushing it, and landing, head first on tar. This moose was dead upon landing.
The car still continued for a few feet, being drastically altered, and bloodied, having fresh hide packed into cracks and designed spaces. Hair and blood tainted the silver of it. The tires rubbed up into the wheel wells of the car. Even they were mutilated by the accident. Bits of glass lay on the dashboard and seats and lap of the driver. The steering wheel was bent, twisted towards the dashboard near the top, and bloodied by a different blood than what was outside the car.
The air bag failed to explode into the driver’s face, but his seat belt kept him in place while the bottom of the dashboard was pushed into, and not stopping for the driver’s bent legs. Ski boots, the culprits for actually breaking the windshield, were directly in front of the car on the road. Glass peppered his face and forearms, even through the thin warm-up jacket.
The young man bled freely as his unconscious body leaned against the seat belt and steering wheel, head propped on the bend, almost stretching to where the windshield should have been.
A mere passer-by watched in amazement from no more than 200 yards behind, having pulled from a side road after the young man and the Corolla passed by. Truly astonished at the sheer quickness of the moment and now running on adrenaline, he thumbed his phone out of his center-console and dialed 9-1-1.
“9-1-1 emergency response, how can I help you…?”
“T-T-T There’s just been an accident; hit a moose right in front of me!” The caller said, mustering enough energy to break his terse speechlessness.
“Where are you sir? Is anyone hurt?”
“I think so, it looks really bad, no movement in the car as of yet!” He responded.
“We are on the Mountain Road…, Mars Hill Mountain is on my left!” He said.
“We will send an ambulance immediately.” The responder replied, getting ready to hang up the phone and dispatch the last ambulance available at the moment
“Send an animal control unit too, I think the moose is dead!” The man said, having seen only that aspect of the accident. He was just 20 yards from the moose and had no knowledge of what happened inside the car.
The boy noticed, after looking up from the radio knobs and immediately stiffened. His back straightened against the seat and his arms stiffened in front of him. His knuckles whitened immediately. His eyes were frantic as his leg sent the pressure of the brake fluid against the brake pads raising dramatically. The steering wheel fluttered minimally, but the car shuttered due to the locked front wheels under him. The car and driver were frantically trying to skid around this exasperated moose, desperately trying to stop before any metal was bent, bones were broken, or anything got killed.
The moose finally looked up at the screeching Corolla only moments too late. Had the moose been agile enough, he may have been able to leap across either way. The bulky older moose tried, but to no avail. Old wounds, a gunshot to the rear quarter, staggered his full potential; it sealed his death to this moment, his destiny bound to the car, and the young man, a destiny leaving them both with loss.
The car skidded even still. The front wheels pivoted from the middle of the car, twisting one way or the other, differently each second. The moose still tried to escape, being a mere second from the front bumper, he had no escape. The bumper slid into his front knee, buckling the large moose onto the hood of the car. The car was still moving, the moose slid to the windshield, after further buckling when his rear leg was broken in several places by that same bumper. He rolled, crushing the windshield. Before he could blink, this moose had totaled that car. He was shot over the cab, partially crushing it, and landing, head first on tar. This moose was dead upon landing.
The car still continued for a few feet, being drastically altered, and bloodied, having fresh hide packed into cracks and designed spaces. Hair and blood tainted the silver of it. The tires rubbed up into the wheel wells of the car. Even they were mutilated by the accident. Bits of glass lay on the dashboard and seats and lap of the driver. The steering wheel was bent, twisted towards the dashboard near the top, and bloodied by a different blood than what was outside the car.
The air bag failed to explode into the driver’s face, but his seat belt kept him in place while the bottom of the dashboard was pushed into, and not stopping for the driver’s bent legs. Ski boots, the culprits for actually breaking the windshield, were directly in front of the car on the road. Glass peppered his face and forearms, even through the thin warm-up jacket.
The young man bled freely as his unconscious body leaned against the seat belt and steering wheel, head propped on the bend, almost stretching to where the windshield should have been.
A mere passer-by watched in amazement from no more than 200 yards behind, having pulled from a side road after the young man and the Corolla passed by. Truly astonished at the sheer quickness of the moment and now running on adrenaline, he thumbed his phone out of his center-console and dialed 9-1-1.
“9-1-1 emergency response, how can I help you…?”
“T-T-T There’s just been an accident; hit a moose right in front of me!” The caller said, mustering enough energy to break his terse speechlessness.
“Where are you sir? Is anyone hurt?”
“I think so, it looks really bad, no movement in the car as of yet!” He responded.
“We are on the Mountain Road…, Mars Hill Mountain is on my left!” He said.
“We will send an ambulance immediately.” The responder replied, getting ready to hang up the phone and dispatch the last ambulance available at the moment
“Send an animal control unit too, I think the moose is dead!” The man said, having seen only that aspect of the accident. He was just 20 yards from the moose and had no knowledge of what happened inside the car.
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