The Accident

Written By Taylor Powell It was in the afternoon of an early summer day, and I was almost my birthday. One more month and I would be two years old. Mom had been doing some painting for a neighbor down the street. She decided to take me along this time, and I brought my bouncy ball for a little bit of entertainment. The room that mom had to work in was up a flight of stairs, and had a balcony with lots of stairs outside. Mom went straight to work, leaving me to adventures of my ball. I started throwing it around in this room with mom keeping an eye on me. Well, I quickly got bored, as most little boys do, and decided I wanted to bring my game outside. I waddled over to the door to the balcony and just stared up at the enormous obstacle that stood between boredom and freedom. Luckily mom saw me gazing up at such an intimidating obstruction. She swung open the door, and a cool breeze came swooping into the house. Now be careful, Taylor, mom urged as she returned to her labors. The balcony outside was about 14 feet high and had a cement pad underneath it. It was finished, but on the top there were two or three pieces of railing that were missing. In place of those pieces was an empty five gallon bucket, which acted as some sort of barricade in the empty space. I looked around and smiled, what a wonderful upgrade from the dull, lifeless, grown-up room that I had just come from. This was where I was born to be, the great outdoors. For starters, I decided to toss my ball around for a little bit. I was having an outstanding time playing fetch with myself. I would throw it as far as I could, at least three or four hundred feet. Well it seemed like three or four hundred feet, but in reality it was only two or three feet. I

would chase my ball, doing awesome acrobatic moves like spins and face plants. I felt pretty cool. It turns out that one of the times I threw it, it bounced off to the side and through the broken part of the railing. Wow! How cool was that? I toddled over to bucket, and tried to peek around it. I jumped and I leaned and I stretched, but I just couldnt get a good view of my ball. I was getting frustrated. I started pacing back and forth, devising a grand scheme to destroy the orange bucket that had just recently become my biggest enemy. It was either me or the bucket, one of us had to go. This balcony wasnt big enough for the both of us. I came back over to the bucket, brows furrowed in deep concentration. I was completely focused on the task at hand. I lifted up my right hand, lining up my palm with the Home Depot logo on the front of the bucket. I started the wind up, and swung with all my might. As contact was made, the bucket toppled off of the balcony. I didnt realize that my momentum would be so strong. I started to stumble and tried to regain control of my little body. Just as I thought all was going to be ok, I glanced over the edge. My stomach lurched and I started getting dizzy. I began staggering and could feel my legs starting to give. I reached for some part of the railing, but all I got was a handful of air and I teetered off of the edge. When mom came to check on me a few minutes later, she found me straight down from the top, just inches away from the cement. As you can imagine, she was quite shaken, and looked around for help, but nobody was there. I started moaning a little bit, and I wasnt unconscious, so mom carefully picked me up and looked me over. The only injury she could see was a little scrape on my head that looked like a rug burn. She softly picked me up and carried me home, knowing that I was lucky to be alive.

As soon as we got home, mom called dad, who was working out of town. Dad was worried, and decided they would keep a close eye on me and maybe I would be alright. About halfway through dinner I started to hurl. Mom didnt know what to do, so she called her friend who was a nurse and lived close by. Mom described all that happened and the nurse rushed over. She carefully looked me over, and decided we needed the Emergency Room. She even offered to be our shofar to Jordan Valley Hospital. It wasnt long before they were strapping me down and preparing me for a CAT scan. A look of horror passed over my face and my breathing became sporadic. I wiggled and elbowed and tried to release myself from moms grip, but to no avail. In my mind a CAT scan was something they used to turn naughty children into household pets. Im sorry Mama! I couldnt grasp the idea of eating kitty food the rest of my life. Mom came over and explained that the doctors were going to help me, and that I wasnt going to be transformed into anything. Her words helped a little bit, but there was still a part of me that believed that as I slowly entering the machine, I was looking through human eyes for the last time. The scan took only a few minutes, and I was brought back out. I had closed my eyes through the whole thing. I didnt want to know what color of fur I had. I just layed there, thinking about the experience. Then I realized something. I felt the exact same way as before I entered the Meow Maker. My eyes shot open and I sat straight up, looking at my hands. They were actual hands! I felt my face, what wonderful skin! I was brought to tears once again, human tears. The doctors all just smiled and laughed, and brought me back to mom to wait for the verdict.

The results came back, and they werent good. I had what they called a bleeder on my brain. The room whipped into a whirlwind. Some doctors went to the phones, others scrambling around searching for instruments to insert an IV. Uncle Trent even came to comfort me among the chaos. They strapped me down and sent me to the landing pad. I was about to take my first chopper ride to Primary Childrens Hospital. The situation was very serious. A bleeder causes swelling along the brain, which in turn can cause brain damage. The doctors knew that I had to be sent right into surgery, and I was being worked on before mom even reached Primarys. A message was sent to friends and family, who were at a get-together, and they said a prayer for me. Three or four hours later, it was done. Boy was I quite the sorry sight. I had my head shaved and my scalp cut open from the middle of my forehead to the crown, just above my ear. Part of my skull was removed to get to the bleeder. The bleeding was taken care of and I was but back together. My bones were held in place by screws, and my scalp was held in place by a slew of stitches. It looked like the Continental Railroad across my head! Dad drove all night and finally made it to the hospital. It wasnt pleasant for him at all to find me hooked up to so many machines and wrapped up in my turban. What if I didnt wake up? What if I woke up and couldnt remember who they were? What if I couldnt remember anything? The doctors tried to comfort mom and dad, but also told them that brain damage was to be expected. Only time would tell how badly and if I would wake up the same energetic adventurous kid.

Well, I woke up, and had a miraculous recovery. I was in the hospital until the 10th of June, and was able to make it to a Fathers Day picnic at the park with my family. We had lunch played games, and yes, I even brought my favorite bouncy ball.