Posted by: Rachel | January 4, 2014

Late Night Thoughts

Jahi McMath. The nation is being bombarded with the news of the battle between her family and the hospital. Her mother says the hospital is trying to kill her and the hospital says she’s already dead. It’s a heart wrenching thing, a brain injury, and so difficult to know when there is a glimmer of hope and when it’s over.

I’ve been devouring information about traumatic brain injuries ever since our friend was in a motorcycle accident in July 2010. I don’t believe that there has been a single event in my life that has shaken me like that one. I’ll never forget the night I got that call. It was the weekend of Fourth of July. Friday July 2nd, 2010. I think it might have between 10 and 11pm that I got the call from a friend saying that he had been in an accident and was flown to Reading Hospital. I remember that I didn’t go to sleep for several hours. I’ve never been one to cry out to God, but that night I had tears in my eyes as I prayed like I never did before. I get a lump in my throat just writing about it. He was so young, his wife was pregnant with their fourth child, and he was so passionate about what he believed in.

Because of this experience I know how emotional things can be during such times and I have sympathy for the McMath family. The doctors don’t want to get your hopes up and yet there are many others who tell you that all things are still possible. I don’t want to get into my opinions on whether Jahi has any chance for recovery (but I definitely have some opinions, of course.)

Tonight as I was waiting on Mr Atticus to get sleepy I researched the Jahi case a bit, and then I went on Facebook to a page set up to document our friend’s recovery. The memories came flooding back as I read old posts and I think of how I’ve grown since then. How it has made me less sure of what I would do in a situation like that. How I’ve become less opinionated and perhaps more compassionate (don’t laugh, every little bit helps even if I’ve still got a long way to go, hehe.)

And yet I think, how little have I grown. After all the things that my friend’s wife has endured while taking care of her husband, the constant hospitalizations, the never ending medications, and yet I complain about little insignificant things. How childish I act that the snowplows didn’t clear the road perfectly. I pout when plans get changed and I feel out of control. I am blessed beyond measure. The weather outside is frigid and I have a nice warm house, a cozy bed with a memory foam pillow for my head. My husband has a job and he is  good to me. My children are healthy and happy. My son gives me kisses that are so sweet. There is lots of food in the house to eat, and I have two vehicles in the garage that can take me to the grocery store in case I should run out of nourishment. I have water that is safe for drinking. My children are able to attend schools and see doctors, things that not every child can do.

I’m not sure how to end this, sometimes it seems there is no good way to end things. Life is complicated and messy, and so it also seems is death.

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Responses

  1. We definitely are soooooo blessed!!


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