Safe in the Heart of a Miracle: More True Stories of Medical Miracles
Page 12
Bryan came into the room, took her hand to lead her to the bed, motioning for her to sit down. He sat down beside her, still holding her hand. “You know how I worry every time you do this, Wendy, even though you’re so experienced you should have your own television show to teach others how to hike safely. That’s never going to keep me from worrying about you. Please, call me every day?”
Wendy leaned against him, enjoying the scent of his clean clothes, his shampoo, his light cologne, just simply the smell of Bryan. He could be standing amidst a hundred men and she’d still be able to trace his scent, even doubly blindfolded.
“I’ll call you every day I can get a cell phone signal, okay? You know that’s not always possible. But if I’m not back in ten days, send out the posse.”
The smile slipped just a little as he stared into her eyes. “I’m serious, Wen. I’m genuinely worried every minute you’re gone. It wouldn’t concern me as much if you stayed on the well-known paths. I don’t relax until you’re back home, safe and sound.”
She patted his leg and grinned. “The well-known paths are just that, too well known. I prefer hiking off that beaten path, walking the more rugged areas so I can enjoy nature and solitude. And what you really mean is you don’t relax until I’m back in the kitchen, fixing you a sandwich and a glass of tea.”
“Well … yeah! I mean, the clothes don’t wash themselves, darlin’.”
With a soft growl in the back of her throat, she pushed him back onto the mattress and climbed on top of him, then lightly pounded her fists on her chest, her roar made less fierce by her laughter.
With one quick movement, Bryan reversed their positions but lost the battle to retain his superior stance due to laughing so hard. Wendy deftly pushed him onto to his side, jumped from the bed and bounced around the room, holding one arm extended in victory. Imitating the sound of a riotous crowd applauding she shouted, “As Wendy defeats her opponent in the Ultimate Fighting Championship, the crowd goes wild!”
Bryan pounced from the bed and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her onto the mattress with him. “Oh, no, sweetums, wrong program. This is a horror movie and you know the monster always gets up to grab the weak, puny little girl—”
“Weak? Puny? You are a monster! Why I oughta—”
Her words were interrupted by his kiss.
“Bryan, you’re going to be late for work …”
He placed one finger against her lips, grinned, then gathered her into his arms. “I’ll tell them I had car trouble.”
An hour later they lingered for a moment at Wendy’s car, kissing, murmuring words that lovers whisper, then parted to begin their individual journeys.
During the long drive, Wendy listened to a couple of audio books and her favorite music CDs. Whenever she stopped for gas, or to visit a rest area, she paused long enough to call her parents, a friend or two, and Bryan. She always saved Bryan for last because they never hung up without making each other laugh and saying “I love you”, even if, at times, it was said in an off-handed, casual way. Wendy was unsure of many things in this life, but the love of her husband was never one of them.
She pulled into the parking lot of the Comfort Inn sixteen hours after she had left home. She hoped the bed was comfortable because she had some serious sleeping to do. The long drive had tightened some of the muscles she’d need for hiking.
* * *
Golden pink hues streaming around the edges of the motel room curtains awoke her. She showered, ate breakfast, and was at the entrance of the trail within an hour. She made one call to Bryan before she took her first step off the trail.
“I’ll talk to you later, when I camp for the night. Do ya miss me?”
“Well, no; the laundry hasn’t piled up yet. Besides, I still have pizza left over from last night and you were good enough to dust and pick up before you left. So, babe, I’m okay for now. Check back with me in a few days and I’ll probably be missing you by then.”
She couldn’t stifle her chuckle. “Yeah, me too, honey … a lot.”
“I have the cavalry on speed-dial but don’t make me call them. Be safe, watch for wild animals, two and four-legged variety, and don’t push yourself too hard. I hate to call out rescue just because you got tired and zigged over a rock when you should’ve zagged.”
“Love you, Bryan.”
“Oh yeah, love you, too, Wen. Have I told you lately that you’re the wind beneath my wings?”
“That’s better than breaking wind, I guess.”
“It all depends on whether or not I’ve eaten something that builds gas like the Good Year blimp. If I have, the wind is definitely not beneath my wings, it’s …”
“Goodbye, honey.”
“… really uncomfortable, especially after you’ve served that casserole thing with all the cabbage in it …”
He heard her laughter as she broke the connection. The grin he wore lasted most of the day. Nobody else in the world could make him smile like his girl could.
The early part of the forest was quiet, serene; the proximity of civilization putting a damper on woodland creature activity. When she stopped for a late lunch, Wendy first began to hear sounds of the local citizenry.
Bird songs entertained her as she ate her sandwich. Creatures stealthily rustled through the underbrush causing her to be alert as she slowly chewed each bite of her granola bar. She was merely cautious during the foliage-filtered daylight hours; it was as darkness fell that she developed an edge to that caution. Though she brought something for protection, it was in her backpack. She wondered how quickly she could reach it, if the need arose.
She paused while setting up camp long enough to face the west, to take in the full effect of the day’s end. It was one of her favorite things about hiking.
Like a scene from a movie, the rich-colored hues dazzled from golden peach to indigo blue. It made one realize the day must have been very important to rate such beauty. Soon the stars began to glow as the day pushed the last blue from the sky.
She tightened the ropes on the tent just as it seemed someone flipped a switch for lights. For a few minutes, the silence was as if a giant bell jar had been lowered to encompass the campsite. Then, as the loamy muskiness of the earth penetrated her nose, the whispered voices of the night creatures come alive. Wendy was always amazed at how Mother Nature can invade your senses without seeming to intrude. One of her favorite George Washington Carver quotes came to her during times like these. I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station, through which God speaks to us every hour, if we will only tune in.
She thought that she should call Bryan to wish him a goodnight before the cacophony of woodland music began and drowned out either her words or his responses.
“Babe!”
“Bryan, have you ever thought about just answering with a ‘Hello?’ What if it was your boss calling you and you answered with ‘Babe?’”
“Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that. However, it might merit me a raise. How’s it going, Wonder Woman?”
“Oh, honey, it’s perfect, just perfect. I wish you were here with me.”
“Next year, sweetheart, I promise. I was just reading a book of famous quotes and found one that made me think of you. It’s about communing with nature. It’s not as deep, as lyrical, as some of your favorites, but I like it. ‘Look at the trees, look at the birds, look at the clouds, look at the stars... and if you have eyes you will be able to see that the whole existence is joyful. Everything is simply happy. Trees are happy for no reason; they are not going to become prime ministers or presidents and they are not going to become rich and they will never have any bank balance. Look at the flowers—for no reason. It is simply unbelievable how happy flowers are.’ Have you read that?”
“Ah, Osho. Yes, I know it well.”
“I’ll never be able to impress you, my little wood nymph. You’re always one step ahead of me.”
“Oh, you’re wrong there, Studdly Doright. You impress me every day you
love me. So, miss me now?”
“Um, I might start missing you tomorrow. I still have clean underwear but that’s dwindling fast.”
“Uh-huh. Say good night, baby.”
“Good night, baby.”
Wendy built a fire, opened a can of beans, then could barely eat for laughing as she remembered the conversation she and Bryan had about “wings beneath his wings.” She then cleaned up the site, secured her tent, and slipped into the kind of sleep you’re rewarded with after a long day of pushing your body to its limits.
The warmth of the sunrise awakened her. The fire had died to embers but it wasn’t hard to encourage a full flame so she could make coffee.
She ate, finished her morning ablutions, then packed up the campsite to begin her day. The last thing on her to-do list was to call Bryan for a shot of love and laughter to begin her arduous day.
She narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose when all she got for her button pushing was pips and squeaks from her cell phone. She held it high above her head, turned it this way and that to get the sun’s reflection off the screen, only to see, “No service.”
“Grrr! So much for hearing Sweetie pie’s voice whispering sweet nothings in my ear. I guess I’ll have to try him later, farther up the trail. And it’d probably be a good idea to stop talking to myself, just in case there’s a psych-savvy bear within hearing distance. Don’t want to scare the wildlife.”
With a grunt, she slung her backpack across her back, caught the left strap, and pulled it over her shoulder. Inhaling deeply, she took one more shot of lung-expanding air and began ascending.
She climbed through mid-morning snack and bypassed food and drink only stopping for lunch. It was one of those rare occurrences where the rhythm felt right and she felt strong enough to just keep climbing. It was at the summit of the craggy mountain that took her all day to climb, that it happened.
Wendy had one hand on the topmost center of the rock, her left foot already pushing her upward toward the precipice, when her left foot slipped. She threw her other hand out, and grabbed another outcropping of rock, her right foot scrambling for purchase in the dirt and pebbles that rained down to the slope below her now trembling body.
She allowed her left foot to slide downward a few precious inches at a time, hoping that she could slide down onto a small tree-covered rocky platform several feet below her. She knew that she’d probably break a leg or an arm, but that would be all, if she was lucky. She allowed herself the luxury of turning her head to further scope her surroundings, searching for an alternate plan. Just as she determined she had no other course of action, her hands lost all grasp on the ledge to which she’d been clinging.
It’s remarkable how fast you can pray as you’re falling. And it’s amazing how quickly your mind goes immediately to ask for celestial assistance when your life is on the line.
Dear God, help me!
She slammed into the rocky plateau she’s wished for with a bone-jarring bounce. Her brain didn’t have time to register the three broken bones in her right leg and the dislocated left shoulder when the weight of her body carried her over the jagged edge.
Wendy threw out her arms as if she could grab something, anything, to stop her fall. She landed on her back, breaking it in four places before she became airborne again. A bolder halfway down the hill nearly stopped her descent, but all it did was crush her pelvis before she slid off and tumbled on.
The 60-foot fall resulted in further injuries. The upraised rocks ripped open her left thigh, all the way to the shattered thigh bone beneath; the humerus in both arms broke in several places; internal organs were torn and bruised; most of her ribs were cracked or crushed; and the back of her skull was fractured with spider cracks.
When her broken body came to a final rest, the prayer changed. Sweet God, don’t let me die. It was her last thought before she passed out.
Pain, the kind few people ever survive, the kind that makes you think it might not be such a bad thing if you did die, ripped her from the fuzzy, quiet coma to which she had mercifully slipped.
Her first instinct was to jerk her head up to look at her injuries. A white, hot, screaming pain that reverberated throughout her entire body forced her head back to the packed hard dirt.
She closed her eyes to stop the spinning earth and darkening sky. She was unable to control the moan that escaped her bleeding lips. A fawn, startled by the abrupt noise, ran toward her mother grazing nearby and they both leaped away gracefully.
I’ve been lying here so long the deer thought I wasn’t a threat, nothing more than a part of the surroundings.
Gritting her teeth against the next series of screams building inside her, Wendy tried to reach the cell phone in her pocket, anything to call for help. She endured for nearly two hours; moved an inch or two, lost consciousness, and awoke to repeat the process only to find the phone shattered when she worked it free from her pocket. Wendy cried until the blackness took over again.
Bryan called her phone again and left another message, again.
“Okay, if you’re playing hard to get, I’ll admit that you’re really, really good at it. Yay! Good for you! Hoorah, you won! Now call me back because I don’t want to play this game anymore. Alright, I know you’re not playing a game; it just worries me less if I pretend that you are. Please, baby, call me the minute you can. I’m worried sick. And Wendy? I love you.”
His next calls were to every friend and relative of Wendy’s whom he could reach. He found a number for a friend his wife hadn’t seen since high school and even called her. The desperation in his voice grew with each phone call he made. By the time he got to his mother-in-law, he was in tears.
“No, I haven’t heard a word from her since last night, just before she made camp. I know, I know, I tried to talk her out of going, too. She’s stubborn, you know that. Oh, God, what am I going to do? I’ve got to find her!”
Immediately after telling Wendy’s mother he’d let her know if he found out anything, Bryan made his first phone call to the police.
“Yeah, uh hi, I, uh, need to report my wife missing. She left here, driving, to go hike in the mountains, two days ago. No, no, I talked to her last night, late, before bed … But we can’t wait another day to start looking for her! I’m telling you, this isn’t like Wendy to not call me, or her mother, all day and night. I talk to her several times each day and … Yes, send someone over to take a report! I’ll do whatever I need to do to find her.”
While the young, tired-looking officer wrote out the report, Bryan lost his patience.
“No, we did not have an argument. No, we have not talked about getting a divorce. Son, you’ll meet few people in the world who love each other more than my wife and I do. Instead of trying to imply that she left me, why don’t you focus on the fact that my wife could be anywhere in those mountains, hurt or … dying.” He covered his face with his hands and the officer waited for his sobs to subside. “Please, just find her. Please …”
The investigation would grow to include several police departments, highway patrol, and park rangers. None of them would find the missing, critically injured young wife.
* * *
As the sun crawled over the horizon on the morning of the fourth day, Wendy admitted to herself she was going to die.
I can’t believe it’s going to end this way; that I’m going to die, alone, in the woods, with no one to bear witness except for the same creatures who will devour my body after I’m gone. Oh, God, please let them wait until after I’m gone.
Over the hours, she’d managed to move a few feet by moving one side of her body at a time, in minute increments. She’d traveled nearly twenty feet from the side of the cliff from which she’d fallen. Her only goal had been to reach a small stream so she might get a drink. It took her two days to maneuver her body close enough to lay her face in the water and drink hungrily. The first two times she drank, she threw up the water immediately. After that she drank more slowly, drinking a sip or two every few
minutes.
Other than reaching the stream, her biggest accomplishment had been to get the backpack off and open. Using her teeth and gripping the bag with her biceps, screaming with each tug she made, she finally pulled a thermal blanket free.
It was nearly noon on the sixth day when Wendy was awakened by the sound of helicopters passing overhead. Because there were two, and they flew over several times, she knew they were probably looking for her. Struggling with all her might to lift her blanket to signal them, she sobbed in pain and frustration.
Exhausted and throbbing with pain, Wendy once again passed out.
The sun was low in the sky when she awoke. There were no more distant sounds of chopper blades whipping the air into a frenzied search for one lady in a deeply wooded forest.
I understand, God; I can tell it’s my last night on earth. There’s no way I can make it another day. Thank you, Lord, for being with me all these long hours. Thank you, God, for helping me reach the stream so I could drink. Please God, be with Bryan and Mom; comfort them with Your grace and love. And God, when you take me, can you do it quickly? Maybe just stop my heart all at once, so I don’t have time to be scared? Thank you, God, for granting me salvation, for loving me, and for taking me home.
Wendy’s head jerked at the sound of another rainstorm of pebbles cascading down the hillside. She closed her eyes, praying it wasn’t an animal too hungry to wait for her to die.
“Blake! Hold up, buddy! You’re going to fall off if you don’t slow down! Blake!”
“Okay, okay Daddy. I stopped. I ain’t going to fall off no mountain! Is this okay? Can I pee right here?”
The sound of their voices carried on the slight breeze blowing across Wendy’s face. Oh, sweet, blessed sound that she first thought she imagined.
“Okay, son, that’s far enough! Yeah, that’s good enough right there. No closer to the edge now!”
“Daddy! Did you hear that?”
“What? I didn’t hear anything.”