It started this morning, and I can’t seem to stop them from coming.  I keep remembering that moment, when the bike was coming and the look on his face, and the sound of him hitting the door.  I keep remembering the blood.

Everyone keeps telling me how strong I must be, and the solicitous “How are you doing?” is the second thing everyone says (the first being “How is Sammy doing?”).  And I always answer that I’m okay, I’m fine, the hardest part was the day after when he couldn’t eat or drink.  But he’s doing so much better now, he can eat almost everything, he still needs a straw to drink from, but that’s nothing.

It’s almost as if now that things are mostly okay, now that the real danger and adrenaline is over, now, I’m starting to panic.  Not panic.  I’m not losing it, it’s more like I’ve got that moment, the two minutes or so of the actual accident on auto-replay, and unless my mind is actively engaged in something else, that’s what I’m thinking about.


I need to write a post on Jessie’s bat mitzvah, but I really do think I’m still just processing it.  So we’ll wait a bit for that one…  I also need to do a post on homeschooling, because we’ve decided to pursue that with Sam, at least thru the end of third grade.   But first…

On Wednesday afternoon, Sammy was in a horrific accident.  It was the first really nice day of spring, and I made him go outside.  He took his bike up the top of the hill, and was riding around.  Jessie was at Model UN until 5:00, and I had handed Julianna the bucket of chalk.  I was in the driveway, with the back of the van up because we were celebrating Clean Out the Car Day.  We’re on a hill, and the yard is about four feet above the driveway – there’s a stone wall where the yard ends.  I always park close to the wall.

So there I was, happily cleaning out the car, my girl coloring with her chalk and my boy riding his bike.  It was a gorgeous day, and everything was nearly perfect.  When Sam yelled, I didn’t immediately understand what was going on.  I still don’t know what happened with his bike, if the brakes failed or if it was operator error, he was just going too fast and couldn’t slow it down.  He went up on the yard, and then flew off the wall directly into the upturned hatch back on my minivan.   He was going so fast, and he hit his face into the door.

The impact was strong enough to shatter the back window in the van, and the glass rained down around him.  The door went into his chin, and severed the nerves, facial muscles, gums, and scraped the top level off his bone.  Miraculously, there were no broken bones, and no internal injuries, and everything will, functionally, be just fine.  He’ll recover, his face will heal.

There’s significant scarring, and that’s going to be an issue for a while.  We’ll have to be especially vigilant about sunscreen and hats, because any sun will make the scarring worse.  It’ll be 12-18 months before they’ll be able to do anything about that, so we have to find a way to make him less self-conscious about going out in public.

On Wednesday night, or Thursday morning, when we finally got home from the hospital and I had tucked Sammy into my bed, the last thing he said to me was that in the ambulance, he was so afraid he was going to die, and that he’d never get to see his dog.

We had been working towards adopting a dog, and Thursday morning, I just made it happen.  I got the home visit scheduled for that night, and got my landlord to finally sign off on getting the emotional support animal for him.  Lucky Charms was dropped off here on Saturday morning.

Now, of course, I’ve got a traumatized Julianna – but we’re working on it.  She’s still terrified of him, and it’s going to take her some time to get used to having the dog.  Thank goodness, he’s the most mild-mannered, easy going, relaxed dog imaginable.  He’s tiny, less than 20lbs, and so beautiful.  He doesn’t bark, has never bitten anyone, he just wanders around the house and looks for food.  She’ll get used to him, and in the end, this is the best thing for her.   She’s got such a crippling fear, and I don’t want her going thru life like this.  So the dog is good for her.  He is.  It’s just a hard thing to watch her so scared, and to see her trying so hard.   I  know she’ll adjust, she wants to and we’ll just keep supporting her and loving her thru it, but also reminding her that she’s so brave, and we know she can do this.