"Wonder what that means," I said, flipping through a magazine, my foot on the dashboard.
Four hours later, an ER doctor announced Chris had broken his back and fractured his neck. He had tumbled off his bike in what seemed like a harmless accident, but clearly was not. Mere millimeters stood between Chris and paralysis, or death.
Minutes before the accident |
That day was a blur of phone calls, surgery, prayer, and deep gratitude that Chris had survived. Friends and family were amazing. Neighbors Megan and Larry Jowers drove almost two hours to the Destin Hospital to get our house key so they could let the dogs out. They took the girls to dinner, and were a huge comfort to me while Chris was in surgery.
My brother Dave drove in from Atlanta, arriving at eleven at night, to take the girls home to our house. He stayed with us for days, helping take care of Chris while I tried to wrap my head around what had happened.
And now it's been a year. Chris has recovered almost completely, and much of it has to do with his own strength and will. He had great doctors and physical therapists, but treating himself as if he were his own Personal Trainer, working hard to recover, has been downright inspirational.
And now it's been a year. Chris has recovered almost completely, and much of it has to do with his own strength and will. He had great doctors and physical therapists, but treating himself as if he were his own Personal Trainer, working hard to recover, has been downright inspirational.
The experience changed us both, set us on a new path. Chris and I are more grateful for our dear family and friends, and more aware of the precious gift that is good health to enjoy this life. So today we look back, with a little trepidation, then forward with gratitude. We're going on a commemorative bike ride this afternoon. Join us!