I am beyond words mortified by the events that have enfolded about this family in the last couple of days. These revolutions of a globe have been horrifying and tragic at best. To help wrap my own mind around the developments of what happened last Tuesday I seek to tell the story just one more time. A story that has been uttered with an increase in volume, and strength with each rendition of it. A story that with each slow playback becomes less surreal and more a clinical reverberation of the events.
The day was Tuesday, July 28th, 2009. It started out as all the others before it. Leaving for work early in the morning and with the same amount of harassing phone calls from bored children at home. Eager for school to start, they played with the same toys, the same games, the same pets that they had spent all summer with. My 15 year old had a friend come over. Mainly staying in his room they watched TV and listened to music.
After lunch the boys became restless, and the swamp cooler was doing little to keep the house cool in the 115 degree heat. They all were sweating and needed a cool down. Colton, my oldest and most responsible son, took his friend and his two younger brothers into the backyard to play in the sprinklers. Upon turning on the water they spayed themselves, the water was cool, but not cold. So he started spraying down the two younger boys with squeals of delight filling the backyard... the game was a foot. Colton being the bigger brother, grabbed his youngest brother and shoved the hose down the back of his shorts. Brotherly games of playful torture... no harm no foul.
Except, that is when tragedy struck. The light green hose, 150 feet in length, had been laying half under the protective shade of the tree in back, and half on the radiating sand of the Mojave Desert. The water was cool to the touch from the comfortable shade of the tree, but once it was in the back of Dustin's cotton shorts, it turned scalding hot from the portion that had been laying in the sand and sun. An innocent hose, a lazy summer day, a playful group of young boys, and tragic accident.
Dustin began to scream a blood curdling scream, one that Colton knew was wrot with terror, fear, and pain. He grabbed for the hose yanked it from his young brother's pants and rushed the 6 year old from his feet, whisking him into the house, down the hall, and into a cold shower. With the cool water raining down on him he seemed to be fine for the moment. Dustin was calm and quiet. Colton ran back outside to turn off the water so that the shower would have greater water pressure. He knew he was hurt, but not how bad. As he finished turning off the water spicot, the screams of terror and pain came flooding back to him from inside the house. He grabbed the phone and frantically called me at work... no answer. "Come on Mom! Pick Up, PLEASE Pick Up!!!" He in a frenzied panic dialed again.... MOM PLLLEEEAAASSSEEE! No answer. I was in a meeting. By this time the blister were starting to form and breaking in the cool water, and Dustin was really hurting bad. The terror and panic was getting thicker by the minute, Colton knew this could not wait until I could be reached. He ran across the street and got a good family friend and neighbor the boys affectionately call Grampy. He ran over, and soon had Dustin out of his shorts, keeping him in the shower for as long as he could stand it. He was freezing, shivering, within the cool water flowing down his little body. And Yet his flesh was burning still from within. Donnie (Grampy) Called me twice more, but this time left messages on my work phone, which Colton in his heightened state of dealing with the situation was unable to do.
10 min. later I got out of my meeting and got my messages. Grampy's voice was cold, and stern, more direct then I was use to. The words did not immediately register but the tone of voice did. Someone was hurt. I listened to that message and I got only two words... call immediately. My heart sank, and ever thankful for the missed call button on my phone I immediately redialed his cell. Grampy was curt and direct. The words were a jumble of my own heart beat ringing in my ears and muffled sounds coming from a phone. The whole office where I work seemed to get deafening silent, and the whole world began to slow down. My arms took so much more time to move, my feet were heavy and planted to the ground. In trying to run I found myself in a slow frame of a bionic man movie, waiting in the back of my mind for the music to begin. My thoughts became s rush of who to call, what to say, how to get approval to go. I chased down Rob and Ken, my bosses, who had moments before walked out the door to go to another meeting in another building on the NASA Dryden site. They granted me leave and asked me to check in to give a status update later on. I agreed, ran to grab my things, shut down my computer, and run as fast as I could, stuck in slow motion hell, to my car. Once inside I drove the speed limit for about 2 min. and then could clearly not care if they took my license away or not. I drove like a bat out of hell... easily reaching 100 miles an hour on the short stretch of freeway between the Edwards AFB exit and Clay Mine Road. It was amazing as if God himself had cleared me a path. Cars and Big Rigs ran side by side in front of me far from the exit, and again in my rear view mirror... but nothing and no one was around me. OK, so it was not the parting of the sea, but it was the right mini miracle that I needed for the moment.
Once on Clay Mine Road it was the gates wide shut, stuck behind an old man going 5 miles an hour in a beat up mini van... I glance to the on coming lane... no cars. I take the hop. This is not in my nature... I would rather wait and make my trip 45 min longer then ever pass another vehicle. It is unsafe, and it is scary. This moment, I did not care... one of my sons was hurt and they needed me. I did not know how bad, or if there was anything that I could do, but I needed to be there... and I needed to be there NOW! The drive while only moments long was hard and tedious. When I got there and saw him, I thought for a moment on what I should do. A million thoughts flooded through my mind. Do I take him to the ER? Do I call an ambulance? Do we have insurance? Does it freaking matter? What do I do, What do I do, What do I do. I grab the phone and pause looking at it unsure if I should or should not call. Silently arguing to myself. Until finally a voice from deep within me cuts though the voices. IT IS YOUR BABY JUST CALL!!! So I did...
911 what is your emergency? My son has been burned. Where is he now? He is on the bedroom floor. Is he coherent? I uh ummm. Is he answering you when you talk to him? Yes, Yes, he is fine, answering fine. Put him in the shower, cold water Mame. OK, I hand the phone to Colton... And I begin to mobilize the troops... My voice is calm and steady... My thoughts are clearer and more direct... Colton, I need you to play relay tell me what they say and tell them what I say. All the while scooping my son, Dusty Joe, scared, wet, and hurting into my arms. I carry him to the bathroom and place him back into the cold water of the tub, he just got free of. He begins to cry softly. I ask George to get me two cups, I begin pouring water over each butt cheek one at a time. It is blistering and the skin is falling away from his body. I keep repeating this process over and over and over again. Not daring to stop until help arrives. I tell George to go out front and wait for the ambulance to wave them in. I lean into him closely and as softly and calmly as I can I tell him he is going to be OK. I tell him that I love him, and that I remind him that I have never left him before and I am not about to start now. I ask him if he trusts me... He says yes. I ask him if he believes me... He says a little stronger...yes. Good, I tell him, this is my job, this is what I do... I take care of you. Just do as I say and it is going to work out... I promise. He seems comforted now, still cold and afraid...
Donnie comes in and asks if he can take over pouring cold water on his poor burned bum. I, grateful for the relief, say yes. I leave the room pacing waiting for help to arrive. I place blankets on the front room floor for when the paramedics arrive, a pillow too. Dustin will need to be comfortable while they stabilize him. Symptoms of shock are racing through my head... Cold clamy skin ( He is wet in a cold shower), what else? Hypotension (like I have a blood pressure cuff his size), next! ummmmm irregular breathing, rapid pulse... I run back into the crowded bathroom looking at the veins in his neck... and the rise and fall of his chest from the back... all the while changing a toilet paper roll that somehow got neglected to hide my true intentions for being there. A little elevated, but not much, in fact I think mine is more rapid then his. He is doing well... where are the paramedics? I make my way back to the front yard... no sign of them. I hear sirens off in the distance... they are coming... coming for Dustin... what a wonderful sound... sirens...a moment of time when seconds turn into minutes. And there is a feeling of peace. But before you can get comfortable or even take a breath you are snapped within an instant back into reality. What are some other signs? Weakness, confusion, anxiety, loss of consciousness. I mentally review Dustin's condition. OK, so far so good... A big truck rolls up... my first thought was, you aren't the ambulance... then it dawns on me. Duhhh it is the fire department, they get here first. Moments before the paramedics... within the flash of an eye they are off the truck and coming into my home... Do you want him out of the tub? So you can get to him easier? I ask in half relief and half pleading for help. Yes was all I heard before I was running back to the bathroom to swoop and scoop my son once more to the front room. By now more people were swarming about... So many different uniforms, partnered teams, stretchers... I had to get out of their way. Mom Mode kicks into high gear... Colton, George get back, get out of here so they can work. The boys move to the far wall just beyond the couch, but still within close view of their brother. Fear in both their eyes, my heart bleeding for both of them, but more intent on making sure Dustin was stable. Then out of the corner of my eye I see Tyler Irish. A young man from the church who just weeks before was sitting having a late dinner of homemade tacos and corn chips at our very own dinner table with his sister and my children. He was working on the Hall Ambulance rig today, and Dustin was his call. I hear Grampy talking to Dustin; Dusty, you know Tyler don't you? You remember Jessica's brother? Little man turns his head to look over his shoulder and recognized a face in a sea of would be rescue heroes. Yes, Hi Tyler. He says before resting his face back onto the pillow. Hey little guy, I am going to take good care of you OK? I am right here. Dustin's body relaxes and he knows he is going to be OK. In the blink of an eye, the stretcher comes in and so many hands are on it, it seems out of some movie scene. He is only 55 lbs. soaking wet, I could pick him up. Within the moment, too quick for my mind to registe the thought, he was on the stretcher, burn blankets were already in place, and discreet blankets draped his tiny frame as he was being belted in for the ride. Dustin was scared for just a second... his eyes wide with panic. Don't worry, I am not leaving you. I am coming with you. He is put into the rig, and I in the front seat. There is a little square window that allows the paramedic and the driver to communicate. Dustin is wildly looking about. I call out to him. I am right here son, I am right here... he searches for my voice and upon seeing me settles down and relaxes. Tyler the paramedic is busy placing electrodes, taking vitals, starting two IV's. He works silently, quietly, efficiently. A graceful dance of life saving ebbs and flows as the rig sways gently with the road. Dustin is at ease. He is calm. Tyler the driver trys to calm me down with small talk, and then the rig becomes silent. The road becomes long, and the stillness, the unknowing of how bad it is, and where will he be going, how long will he be gone, how far away will the hospital be from the rest of the boys, how am I ever going to make this happen? All these flooded thoughts drowning me. I don't know the answers. I say a little prayer... Dearest Heavenly Father, I don't know your reason for his trial, I just know that it is for his greater good, please let your will be done, take care of us. Amen. Tyler offers a tissue, as tears stream down my cheeks. I agree. He hollers for the medic to get me one.... no, no, no I grab for some left over napkins from one of their lunches... this is good. Tyler smiles. Good Enough.
I think to myself...yes, good enough. I begin in that moment to see the many blessings. How well he is doing, how calm he is. How well taken care of he is. I call the pair of Ambulance guys Tyler Squared. Young men, both doing an excellent job. I am amazed at the way his little boy is designed to tighten up to the pain of the burn and his vital areas are left unscathed by the searing heat of the water. How he takes no meds on the way there and only a single cc of morphine upon getting to the ER. This kid is a trooper. He talks to the nurses and tells him his pain level is a 6 on a scale of one to ten. A 6! I know some women who would complain that their own menstrual cycles are a 6, and his entire butt cheeks are bubbled and blistered and nearly gone. Is he serious? Yes, a 6. They give him the morphine shot.
Colton had offered before I left to go with Dustin to the hospital. I told him, I had to be the one to go now to do the insurance paperwork , but if he is admitted he will be staying with Dustin if he liked it or not. This thought comes to me... our family is blessed. Richly and deeply blessed. My immediate family is not close. And I have often wondered how I could teach my own children about having each others backs, and the meaning of family when mine is such a loose interpretation of that word. And yet, today, going trough the trials and tribulations set before us this day. Amongst the painful dressing changes, and the truly bleak financial situation this places us within... we are blessed. Blessed beyond measure, because we are wealthier then most. We are a family by every definition of the word. In times of strife and tragedy we can and will mobilize all of our talents and abilities to rise to the challenge, meet any hardship, and overcome any obstacle. This road is not an easy one, but the right roads never are... so I take solice in knowing we are on the right path... going in the right direction, and this team I call family is only growing tighter and stronger with each day.
