Safe in the Heart of a Miracle: More True Stories of Medical Miracles

by Gloria Teague

  Rick raised his eyebrows at Emily’s question. “Yeah Chris, what d’ya think about the sign Em made just for you?”

  Chris smiled at Emily then turned to scowl at Rick. “Why Rick, I think it’s cool. Thanks Em; that was very sweet of you.”

  Rick laughed and walked over to talk to the DJ. Soon the twilight night was filled with the sounds of different genres of music, from rap to country and everything in between.

  Several times during the evening someone would offer Chris a beer or something stronger. He’d hold up his glass of cola and tell them he had to perform surgery the next morning so he was flying straight tonight. They all had a laugh about it and no one gave him any hassle about drinking after that.

  The last few notes of “Amazing” by Bruno Mars was winding down. Chris and Emily were dancing to the slow tune just at the edge of the shadows. He was making her laugh and she was making him feel special; they were both falling in love. It would soon be midnight and Emily had just told him she’d have to leave soon.

  “Summer is just around the corner so I don’t want to get grounded before the school year is even over. Besides, if I got grounded and, say, some really cool guy wanted to go out with me … Hey, who’s that?”

  Chris groaned when he recognized the rag tag group walking up the beach. Four of the roughest troublemakers in town looked as if they were bored and looking for something to break. Most likely, the laughter and music of a party they hadn’t been invited to was what had their attention.

  The troublemakers walked past Chris and Emily as they headed for the bonfire. The young couple saw the ax stuck in the back of one of the guy’s belt. Emily looked at Chris and he shrugged to indicate he didn’t know what was going on.

  Rick approached the four guys but he was surrounded by at least ten other men. “What are you doing here, Ben? I don’t think you, or any of your buddies here, were invited.”

  “Yeah, why is that, Rick? Why is it that you didn’t tell us about this party? What, we ain’t good enough for you guys?”

  “This is a private bash, held for a friend of ours. You don’t know him. We only invited people he knows.”

  “Oh yeah? I bet we know him. Hey, it’s a small town; everybody knows everybody else. What’s his name?”

  Emily clutched at Chris’ arm when he tried to walk toward the four thugs.

  One of them started walking around and when he got to the back of the lawn chair and saw the banner, he laughed. “Hey, Ben, come look at this.”

  “What is it, Ted?”

  One of the others walked over and read it out loud: “Reserved for our hero, Chris.”

  Ben turned to Rick with a snarl, “Well, ain’t that just one of the sweetest darned things you ever heard, Devin? Gosh, that chokes me up.”

  The one named Devin stepped into the mix. “What kind of hero are we talking about here? Some kind of war hero? Those guys make me want to puke. They go to some foreign country and sit behind a desk, then tell all of us they were shot at and stuff. I bet this guy ain’t nuttin’ but a …”

  Chris pulled free of Emily’s clutch and stood next to Devin. “He ain’t nuttin’ but a … what, Devin?”

  Ben moved closer to Devin and looked Chris over from head to toe. “Is it you, Johnson? You the big, bad war hero? You the one they’re having this big hoorah for?”

  “Yeah, that’d be me, alright. Why don’t you guys just go on about your business and leave us alone? The party is just about over anyway. Let’s just let everyone finish their drinks and clean up; then we’ll call it a night. No harm, no foul.”

  “No harm, no foul, hmm? Who are you, Ghandi? Whatcha gonna do if we don’t leave, G.I. Joe? You gonna use some of that kiiii rottie? You gonna pull some stealth moves like a ninja? Hey guys, we got us a ninja warrior here! What d’ya think about that?”

  Ben drew his fist back and that’s when Emily ran between the two men. Chris put his hands on her shoulders and pivoted around, moving her out of harm’s way. As he was turned, Devin jerked a burning log from the fire and slammed it into Chris’ back, hitting him square across the shoulder blades. The force of the blow knocked the young soldier to his knees.

  Rick and others moved closer, their own fists pulled back, ready to jump into the fight when the next move froze everyone where they stood in shocked disbelief. Only in movies do unbelievable things like that happen.

  Chris was still on his hands and knees when Ben stepped in front of him, swinging his arms above his head into a downward arc. Just as Chris’ eyes met the other man’s, Ben swung the ax down to embed it into the top of Chris’ skull. Time seemed to stop, only to restart, when Emily screamed.

  The two factions divided and scrambled in two different directions; the intended guests all ran to Chris, anxious to do anything possible to help; the party crashers ran back in the direction they had arrived. Some heard the roar of Devin’s Charger’s glass pack and he flung dirt and gravel in his hasty retreat.

  Chris was lying on his side, eyes open and staring outward, into nothing. Rick kept assuring him, “You’ll be okay, help is on the way. Hang in there, just hang in there, buddy.”

  Emily’s tears fell on Chris’ face as she leaned over him, finally telling him what she’d waiting all evening to say. “I love you, Chris Johnson. You hear me? Don’t you dare leave me like this. I’ve waited years for you and I’m not giving up this easily and I won’t let you, either.” One of her friends tried to hug her but she was too distraught and pushed the girl gently away.

  When the paramedics arrived on the scene they were also shocked; not only because of the injury but also because he was still breathing, and not having any difficulty doing so. They slipped a cervical collar around Chris’ neck, eased him onto a backboard, then ran with him to the ambulance. The lights and siren were bouncing off the trees and hills, announcing the emergency before they even left the lake bank.

  * * *

  Kristen had just turned off her bedside lamp and was snuggling down into the sheets when the phone rang. At first she was confused, unable to understand the words through the wracking sobs coming over the phone line.

  “Wait. Who is this? I’m sorry, but I can’t understand you. Please, take a deep breath …” Then her mother’s intuition hit and she yelled into the phone. “Is it Chris? Did something happen to my son?”

  “Yes … oh, Mrs. Johnson …”

  “Emily? Emily, what happened? Where’s Chris?”

  “The ambulance … hospital … hurt bad …”

  “What happened? Emily, stop crying and tell me!!”

  “… party … Ben and Devin … ax …”

  Kristen slammed the phone down and jumped out of bed. She picked it back up, dialed the police, all while pulling clothes over her head.

  “Mrs. Johnson, I’m sorry I can’t give you any information. All I know is that someone was hurt at the lake and an ambulance was dispatched. As to whether or not it is your son, and what those injuries might be, I have no idea at this time. I do know that the ambulance is transporting a patient to Laneford General Hospital and …”

  Kristen threw the phone on the bed, grabbed her purse and was fishing for her keys as she ran to her car. She arrived at the ambulance bay of the ER seconds after they had rushed their patient into the trauma bay. As she ran down the hall, she watched the double doors close behind the gurney. Just before she reached them, a police officer stepped in front of her.

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry. You aren’t allowed to go in there.”

  “You don’t understand. I believe that’s my son, Christopher Johnson, who has been hurt. I got a phone call from his girlfriend—”

  “Mrs. Johnson, please speak to the nurse at the desk. She can answer more questions than I can and if it is your son, she’ll need to ask you questions, too.”

  Beneath his breath, where no one but God could hear him, the officer prayed, Please God, if that’s her boy, comfort her because she’d going to need your strength more than ever before. And
no matter whose son that boy is, Lord, please place your hand upon him. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.

  “Mrs. Johnson? Is your son’s name Christopher Thomas Johnson, age 22?”

  Kristen had thought it was impossible to shake more than she already was, but she was wrong. Here was confirmation that the patient in trauma was, without a doubt, her son. She forced herself to take deep, even breaths.

  She stepped closer to the nurse. “Yes ma’am, that’s my son. Please, tell me what happened to him. Is he alright?”

  “Ma’am I’m sorry but …”

  Everyone in the room stopped speaking when Kristen finally lost control. “If one more person calls me ‘ma’am’ and says ‘I’m sorry but’ I’m going to lose any control that I’m fighting to hang onto. Someone, anyone, tell me right now, what happened to my son!”

  A man with a stethoscope draped around his neck took her by the arm and led her out of the waiting room into what looked to be a private office. He sat her down and was getting a cup of water from a cooler in the corner of the room as he spoke. He handed her the cup and sat on the edge of the desk in front of her.

  “Mrs. Johnson, my name is Dr. Gardner, the one who will be handling your son’s care while he’s here in our emergency department.”

  “Please, please tell me what happened, Dr. Gardner.”

  He blew air between pursed lips and Kristen’s back stiffened. “Chris was at a party tonight at the lake. Did you know that much?”

  She nodded and he continued.

  “According to what I’ve heard so far, everything was going fine until a small group of town misfits crashed the party. They were evidently angry they hadn’t been invited and when they found out it was in honor of Chris, things escalated to violence. Neither Chris nor his friends started a fight, nor did they ever, at any point, touch any of the other men. It all happened so fast no one had time to react.”

  Kristen squeezed her hands into fists. “All what happened so fast? Will you please, for the love of God, tell me what is wrong with my son?”

  “One of the thugs hit Chris across the back with a burning log from the bonfire …”

  “Oh God, is he burned? How bad is he?”

  Dr. Gardner gently pushed her back into the chair. “No, Mrs. Johnson, Chris isn’t burned. He has a long bruise across his shoulder blades but that’ll heal and it’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Then why is everyone acting as if his injury is so severe? I just don’t understand!”

  “When Chris was hit with the wood, he fell to his hands and knees. While he was in that position, he looked up at one of his attackers and that’s when he hit Chris in the head with the blade of an ax.”

  Kristen stared at the doctor as if he had begun speaking in a foreign language. She started shaking her head in denial, then began to chant, “No, no, no, no, no …”

  “Mrs. Johnson, I need you to focus. I need to ask you questions. Is Chris allergic to any medications? Latex? Adhesive tape? Does he take any type of regular medication? Does he have any health issues I should know about?”

  Kristen jumped up and screamed, “You mean other than an ax in his head? Nope, that’d pretty much be his only little problem at the moment! Is he dying? Will you at least tell me that much?”

  “No, he’s far from it, Mrs. Johnson. In fact, it’s safe to say that he’s shocked our entire hospital staff. Not only is he still alive—he’s alert, he’s breathing on his own, and he doesn’t seem to be having much pain.”

  “What? That’s impossible! Isn’t it? I want to see my son right now!”

  “I’ll take you in there but I want to warn you, he does, in fact, have an ax sticking out of his skull. At the moment we’re running tests, taking x-rays, possibly a CT scan soon. No one’s removing that ax until we know exactly where it sits inside his brain, and if there’s any bleeding or substantial swelling. Removing that ax before we have all the answers could kill him. I want you to understand all this before I take you in there. Chris is holding up beautifully; I need you to be as strong as he is. Chris needs for you to do that. Can you, Mrs. Johnson?”

  “Absolutely. I can do anything I have to for my son.”

  Her teeth were chattering and she slipped her tongue between them so no one could hear it. She wiped at her tears which only caused her mascara to smear but Chris would expect her to be upset. He just didn’t need her to fall apart right now.

  He was sitting up at a 45 degree angle, his body still strapped to a backboard, the cervical collar still in place and a white gauze bandage wrapped around his head so thickly it looked like a turban. That image was ruined by the ax handle protruding outward from Chris’ forehead. His eyes were red and his skin was pasty, but he smiled when he saw his mom.

  “Baby, how are you doing?”

  “Not so bad, Mom, but I’ve got a splitting headache.” He winced when he forced a small chuckle.

  “How bad is the pain, Chris?”

  “You may not believe this, Mom, but it doesn’t hurt that much. One of the nurses said that sometimes head trauma is a lot less painful that most people think it is. Something about the nerves and all … oh, I don’t remember what all she said. All I want to hear is someone telling me they’re going to pull it out. But I’m also scared someone’s going to tell me they’re going to pull it out. Either way it’s going to suck.”

  Dr. Miller came in carrying a large manila envelope. He pulled out many different x-rays, taken from every possible angle. Each time he slapped one into place on the viewing window, he shook his head in amazement. After they were all up, he turned to the mother and son and said, “I simply cannot believe this! Chris, you believe in God? I sure hope so because he sure believes in you!”

  For the first time since the nightmare began, Chris began to feel a whisper of hope. Kristen grabbed his hand.

  “What do you mean, Dr. Gardner? Is my son going to be alright?”

  “Let me walk you through this, Mrs. Johnson. Chris, who should be, by all accounts, dead on that table, is a walking, talking miracle. When that jerk hit him with the ax, the blade sunk in only four inches. Okay, not only is the blade not too deep, it slid into the perfect placement, right smack dab in the middle. The brain has two hemispheres, with a depression between them. That’s exactly where the ax went in—not deep enough to cause catastrophic injury and not enough to cause any brain damage.”

  Kristen’s entire face was wreathed in a smile. “So, what’s next?”

  Chris’ eyes rounded and grew large. “Yeah, what’s next?”

  “Next we take you to surgery and slooowly pull that blade free. We wash out the wound, double check for any further injury or bleeding, then we sew you up and take you to ICU for a couple of days just to make sure you continue to do well. Really, I don’t anticipate any problems. Of course, there are risks with even the most mundane surgery and this is far from mundane, but I think God was smiling on you tonight, Chris. I don’t see why he’d change his mind at this stage of the game.”

  “This is amazing! I have an axe imbedded in my skull, but it’s going to be okay?”

  The physician took the young man’s hands into his. “Chris, God must have a special plan for you, son, because that is the only reason I can find for this miracle. Now, tell your mother goodnight like a good boy so I can take you to surgery.” He then shook Kristen’s hand. “The next time you see your boy here, Mrs. Johnson, he’ll be minus the headgear. I hope you haven’t grown too fond of it.”

  Kristen laughed and threw her arms around the doctor. “Take care of my son, Dr. Gardner. I know it’ll go well because God is guiding your hands.”

  “I agree, Kristen. May I call you, Kristen?”

  “Yes, of course, Dr. Gardner.”

  “Jeremy. My name is Jeremy Gardner.”

  Mother and son watched the surgeon walk through the doors. Chris grinned and said, “Ooh la la, I think Mom has a boyfriend.”

  “You’re unbelievable, Chris Johnson! You sit there with an a
x in your head, teasing me about something that silly! Now, give me a kiss and tell me I’m the best mother in the world, then I’ll let you go to surgery.”

  “Really? You promise you’ll let me go to surgery? Oh gee, you’re just the best mother in the world!” He laughed, then moaned. “Okay, enough of that. I love you, Mom. I’ve got to go see a man about an ax. See you later!”

  Emily, Rick, and several of Chris’ other friends were waiting when Kristen sat down. She told them the amazing news. But even though all the young people were relieved, it was clear they wouldn’t accept it until they saw Chris after surgery.

  The two hours that the surgery took seemed to last twenty-four. During that time, the assembled group found out that all four of the party crashers had been arrested, but not without incident. Ben and Devin fought so hard to evade capture they had to be tasered and Ben broke his leg when he jumped from a high fence he’d climbed to get away from the K9 officers. They were all in custody and had confessed they were high when they’d attacked Chris. No one believed that would keep them from prison for attempted murder.

  The surgery was as big a success as Dr. Gardner anticipated. In a matter of days, Chris was back home, being unnecessarily nursed by Emily and his mother, when she was home. Because of the assault, Chris decided to wait a few months to see if he still wanted to reenlist. After his experience, he felt he wanted to go for an M.D.

  Those few months turned into two years in which life took all of them by surprise. It turned out there were two weddings and one new addition to the family. Kristen’s thank you notes came from Dr and Mrs. Jeremy Gardner, just six months before Emily married her Chris. Therefore, it seemed only fair that Kristen have her baby first, too.

  Joshua Gardner was five months old when his niece, Alana Johnson was born.

  Big Things Come in Small Packages

  “Mommy?”

  Jessica leaned around the corner and saw her son’s freckled face partway through the screen door.

  “What is it, Rusty? What did you do this time?”