Opinion

Growing together in a hospital room

Thursday, February 8, 2007

I used to be a firm believer in Murphy's Law -- "If anything can go wrong it will," but two weeks ago this Friday, my belief turned more to the miracle of prayer and the God-given wisdom of the medical profession.

We got the call just as we pulled up to the house from picking up our supper -- my step-daughter's husband had been involved in a car-train accident in Moorcroft, Wyo. By the time he was taken to the hospital in Gillette and flown to Rapid City, S.D. the doctors were giving him no chance of surviving his injuries.

Last I heard he was responding to the nurses and his mother, and, God willing and barring any complications, is slowly making his way to a full recovery.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of those who have kept the family in their prayers. Without you we could be facing a much different outcome.

I spent last week in Rapid City with my step-daughter. We spent most of our time at the hospital, going out for meals and sleeping. But it gave us a chance to get to know each other like we'd never taken the time to do in the 10 years I've been involved with her dad.

We laughed together. We cried together. We celebrated all of Josh's accomplishments as he lay, fighting for his life in his cold, sanitary intensive care unit.

I watched her tummy swell and rumble as her unborn baby contracted the hiccups and I watched as the baby grew angry, repositioning herself and digging into her mother's tummy and ribs the longer the hiccups continued.

I stood over Josh's bed with her, trying to understand the pain she must have been feeling to see her husband laying there.

I felt the pain as well, the pain of a parent watching their child struggle for their very life.

"It's like having one of my boys in there," I told her during one of our breaks in the waiting room.

Then it hit me. It was my son laying in that bed, and it was my daughter who was watching him, laughing with me, crying with me, celebrating every hill or mountain that Josh was able to crest.

It was my granddaughter that I watched kicking and protesting her confinement.

I had longed for a daughter in my younger years, for some reason, it took me 10 years to realize I had one.

Now all I want to do is take them both in my arms, and make their hurt go away.

Please continue your prayers. I have a grandson and three granddaughters who need both their parents to take them in their arms and make the boo-boo go away when they fall down and go boom.

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