The significance of recognizing the fragility of life

This past Sunday was a scary day for me.

I received a surprising phone call from Blaine, my fiancé, at roughly 5:30 p.m. He was in his cattle barn doing chores that requires him to grab hay bales from the hayloft, up top, in this particular barn. He was at the highest point of the hay mound when a bale of hay slipped out from underneath his feet. He fell about 30 ft, ricocheted off all sorts of delightfully hard objects on the way down, and landed on concrete.

I took him to the nearest hospital, to the emergency department, where they admitted him immediately. They had him in a bed within ten minutes, in a neck brace, and were monitoring his heart for about an hour because it was erratic and his blood pressure was high. After the doctor physically examined him, they sent him for a CT scan on his head and x-rays of his spine.

After looking over his test results, the doctor informed Blaine he was extremely lucky to be alive. He has a serious concussion, a separated shoulder, and a lot of bruising, although the physician told him he should have broken his back and/or neck based on the severity of the fall and the impact at which he slammed into the concrete.

I cannot adequately put into words how absolutely fucking terrifying this whole incident was for both Blaine and myself, although he handled it better than I did. He was actually cracking jokes and doing his best to make me laugh while we were in the hospital because I was on the verge of tears the entire time.

Seeing Blaine in such a serious, vulnerable state certainly put into perspective how insanely fragile life is and can be. It’s not that I was unaware of this concept prior to this happening, but it brought a whole new, rather intense light to the idea of appreciating what and who we have in life. I am so, so grateful he is okay, and recovering.


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