When we got to the BI floor of the rehabilitation
Hospital
Before February 23, 2012, BI to our family stood for Business Intelligence. Cecil was living his dream, working for a software development company in their support department. All we heard about morning, noon and night was BI this and BI that. He loved his job. He started working for this company in July of 2011 after having finished his MBA the previous year. He was under-employed for four years before he got this job, and though it was challenging, we made it through those four years. We had paid off all of our debt, except for his school loans and were so excited to finally be living a "normal" life. He had a nine to five job, I had a small part time job, and the children were going to a small private school in our town. We were involved in our local church, family lived close by, goals were being met, dreams were being achieved. And all of this was because Cecil had found his niche in BI.
The biggest problem we faced at that time was that gas was getting more and more expensive. Cecil hated driving my tiny economy car, and his truck only got 16 miles to the gallon. In January, he decided to buy a motorcycle to save on gas and make his hour long daily commute a little more fun. He bought the best insurance policy he could find because he knew how much I didn't like the idea of his driving a motorcycle to begin with. He also took the motorcycle safety training course and worked really hard to be sure he knew how to drive it safely.
Sometimes, our best laid plans are not the plans that God has in mind. “For My thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not My ways.” This is the LORD’s declaration. (Is. 55:11)
February 23rd was an unusually busy morning. I had plans to have breakfast with a few friends, after which, I planned to drive into town to visit my grandmother. Everyone was rushing around the house getting ready for the day, making lunches, packing clothes to take to the gym, etc. As busy as the morning was, I am pretty sure I remember going outside with Cecil as he left for work that morning. I don't know if we kissed goodbye or not, which is our usual practice. I think that he already had his helmet on when I ran out there to tell him goodbye. He wanted to leave early so that he could get a few things done before he began to take calls on the support line.
Everyone rushed out the door, I rushed to get the boys to school and then rushed to my breakfast with friends. Breakfast was fun and NOT rushed. Leaving the restaurant, I headed up towards my grandmother's house, following the same route Cecil had taken a few hours before.
As I drove up the rode, I got a phone call from my brother-in-law who worked with Cecil. Seeing his name pop up on the caller ID, I answered quickly, knowing that he was probably at work and wondering why he would call me at 9 AM on a weekday. Dustin casually asked if Cecil was planning to come in to work that day. Immediately, I knew. Cecil should have been to work at 8:15. I started to cry and told Dustin this. He assured me that Cecil must have had some kind of challenge with his bike and was just running late. I quickly ended the call, asking him to contact the sheriff's office.
According to the police report, at 7:58 AM, Cecil flew over his handlebars and landed in the middle of the highway. No one stopped. No one reported what happened. The sheriff's office was located at the same intersection where his accident occurred, but they did not respond. Highway patrol took the report. From what we pieced together afterwards, we concluded that someone pulled out in front of him, and when he maneuvered to avoid the other vehicle, his bike malfunctioned, causing his steering to lock up and throwing him from his bike. Whoever caused the accident just kept driving.
It wasn't until March 2 that I learned the other meaning of BI. Brain injury. Cecil suffered a severe traumatic brain injury. His helmet saved his life, but as he hit the ground, his brain was shaken like an egg inside of a shell. He sustained injury to four areas of his brain. He remembers nothing from February 23-March 1, and little from March 1- March 5. The doctors call it "post-traumatic amnesia."
Today is August 20, 2012. Cecil has not gone back to work. We don't know if or when he will. He is still one of the most intelligent people I know, but according to him, he's an idiot now. Because of his high level of intellect before the accident, the doctors say his prognosis is very good. This means that he will function much better than most people who had this same diagnosis. Their good prognosis means nothing to Cecil. He knows what he lost. He remembers what he used to be able to do with his mind. He remembers the complicated problems he was able to solve with little difficulty. He knows that he will never have that back.
He describes it as someone who had 4 massive strokes. A stroke also causes BI, and because it is more familiar to people, most people can understand this. Would you expect someone who had 4 massive strokes in one day to go back to work soon afterwards? Would you expect that they could live as they did before and "move on"? Would you ask your grandfather who had a stroke to just try harder to get better? No. Whenever someone has a stroke, they lose brain cells. An MRI shows the area of the BI where the brain matter turns gray. Brain cells never grow back. Stroke victims can learn to do things differently, and they can learn to use different areas of their brains in order to perform some of the same tasks they were previously able to perform, but they never go back to the same way they were before the stroke. Not completely. Stroke victims require much therapy to relearn, to rewire their brains. It's the same with Cecil's BI.
Cecil also describes it to me this way. I am a musician and give private music lessons. Music is not just a pastime for me, it is also my life work, my career, my calling. I use music every day of my life, whether or not I am at work, at home or at church. What Cecil lost is comparable to my losing every one of my students and my ability to play or sing any type of music ever again. It would encompass every day of my life. There would be no area of my life that would not be affected if I were to no longer be able to make music. Yes, I could still wake up and live my life. I could get another job, and I could find new things to enjoy, but I would always have the memory of music with no longer the ability to make music. I would still be a musician in my heart, but physically could not do what I long to do every day of my life.
Cecil is devastated. Though he knows God is in control, he does not understand what he should do with his life. He is not able to work to provide for our family. On our current income, we are able to pay our bills, but we must live paycheck to paycheck. We are not able to save for retirement. We cannot buy a new car if one of ours breaks down. We cannot afford the health insurance which our President insists we buy. Our children cannot have the braces their crooked teeth need. What happened to our future? It cracked on the road along with Cecil's helmet.
Does this sound like a hopeless situation to you? Are you depressed reading this?
I AM NOT! I HAVE A HOPE! My hope is in JESUS!
My hope is not in Cecil's ability to provide for our family. My hope is in Jehovah Jirah, my Provider. His grace is sufficient for me! My hope is not that we will have a nice house or car one day. One hundred years from now, no one will remember what kind of car I drove anyway. My hope is in things eternal. I hope that one day, my family will be joined in Heaven, all of us having perfect bodies and the mind of Christ!
I know that God causes all things to work together, like puzzle pieces, for good, for those who love Him and are called to His purposes. Those of us, He knew before He created the world. He called us to be made into the image of His Son......translation, God is going to use this to make me more like Jesus. I know this in the very core of my being. I don't know if Cecil will ever have a full-time job again. I don't know if my kids will have braces. I don't know if we will eventually have to live in a trailer with no car and ride our bicycles everywhere (we have good bicycles if we ever have to do that, though). I have a feeling, just call it a hunch, that God will provide for these needs. I hope in Him not because of anything that I have done, or any good that I may be, but because HE is good. And if He sees fit not to give us these things we call needs, then I will trust Him in that, too. I am placing all my hope in that He knows what is best for me. He loves me. He wants to be glorified in my life, and I want that, too. It's not about me, really. It's about Him and His glory. I am nothing. I am a blip on the radar of eternity. It is HIS story. If He lets me be an extra in His movie, then I will be the best extra I know how to be. But in the end, it's about God, the creator of the universe.
God allowed this brain injury to affect our lives. He allowed it to devastate Cecil for now. But I will not be devastated
