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This wasn’t how I planned to start my blogging journey, but we plan and God laughs. Or in my case, we put it off and God gives us something to write about. And so the journey begins…….with a phone call.

Wednesday 4/19 was a, somewhat, emotional day to begin with.  I spent a good portion of the day, with a friend, cleaning my cousin’s house in preparation for her to come home from an extended stay at Cleveland Clinic where she has been fighting MDS (Myelodysplastic syndrome).  I’ll write more about my amazing cousin Renee in another post, but let’s just say her wicked sense of humor has kept us in stitches our entire lives.  Anyway, I had a shower and was having my own little pity party when Jeff left for practice at church. An hour and a half later we received the phone call that every parent fears………”Mom, I had an accident at work and I’m in an ambulance on the way to St. V’s.”  All I heard from that point on were the sirens in the background.

I’m not even sure if he told me that he had been burned or if I just knew when I heard St. V’s.  They are one of the top four burn units in the country.  If you have a burn in this area, this is where they take you and this is where you want to be!  Let’s rephrase that……….nobody wants to be here, but you get the idea.  A big huge thanks to the City of Bowling Green Fire and Rescue for not messing around and recognizing the severity of his wounds.  They didn’t even attempt to take him to another hospital and they broke every speed law known to man to get him here.  The only person that was ahead of them on the expressway was Jeff, who managed to beat the ambulance.  (He was about 5 minutes closer than I was since he was at practice at church. There is a funny story to this that I will tell at another time.)

I won’t go into detail at this point about his injuries or how it happened but what I will say is he has mostly 2nd degree burns, and some 1st degree, over 15-20% of his body.  It is predominately on the right, upper half of his body and face.  It was a fryer full of grease that exploded and Sam’s reflex was to raise his right arm and shield his face as he turned so there is also a spot on his back left calf.  The majority of the impact was taken under his right arm and torso.  Those burns may turn into 3rd degree and required skin grafts.  We hope not, but burns develop more over time and they are also prone to infection, especially if you are dealing with grease because it’s very dirty.  We have seen this first hand as he developed an infection on the back of his arm and his leg and is being treated with IV antibiotics.

We have learned so much about burns and how the body heals.  First, blistering happens because the body is saying “hey that spot needs moisture.” Second, the degree of burn is based on how deep you’re burned, whether the burns blister and how many layers of skin are damaged.  This can’t be determined right away because it continues to burn for a while. The degree can also change based on infection.  Third, you have to get the dead skin off and they way you do that is debridement.  Look it up…….. yep, its bad, it’s painful, and it’s awful.  And Sam is handling it like a champ!  He is so tough. There is no quick fix for any of this.  It’s not like a broken bone that you can cast and will be healed in 6 weeks.  Diagnosis is a waiting game and so is treatment, determined by how his body responds.  And recovery is a long process, based on age, health, if he is a smoker (working on that), infection, if skin grafts are needed, and how many calories and protein he eats.  The one bonus to a burn is you can eat anything you want.  The higher the protein and calorie count the better!  Of course you’re in so much pain you don’t want to eat and hospital food isn’t the best.  We have managed to get some of his favorites brought in from friends and family.  For now there is no discharge date, we just wait.

The first several hours here were scary and surreal.  There were so many things going on and so many different doctors and nurses asking us questions and giving us information.  It was overwhelming and exhausting.  As the days go on you fall into a new normal.  You no longer sit and stare at your child in the bed 24/7.  You walk down the hall and get a drink, maybe venture to the cafeteria to pick up food.  As the comfort level grows, you go to the cafeteria and eat at a table.  You’re not hungry and you don’t taste the food but you eat because you know you have to.  At some point you go home and take a shower and try to straighten up the life you abruptly left when the phone rang.  You may even sleep in your own bed. Not a restful sleep but it’s not in a plastic recliner or a love seat the pulls out into a medieval torture device that is supposed to be a bed.  You push through and function the best you can because what other choice do you have?  Your kid needs you.  I was doing one of those “new normal’s” on Sunday as I ventured down the hall for a drink.  I passed a kid in the hall that looked about Sam’s age.  I overheard him tell the aid he was 22 and a student at BGSU.  Then I saw his parents in his room.  I didn’t know them but I knew them. They were us three days before.  Scared, dazed, confused, overwhelmed and exhausted.  I smiled at them and they half smiled back.  I asked if it was their first day.  They said “We got a phone call at midnight that our son had been stabbed.”  That’s how their journey began, with a phone call.