- Kayak $800
- Life jacket $100
- Cooler $50
- Drowning and miraculously living to tell about it? Priceless
My cousin Cole could be the new spokesperson for MasterCard. In mid-September he drowned while kayaking. No one knows how long he was under the water, but it was too long. One friend ran for help, the other dragged him from the water while performing CPR. When he arrived at the hospital he was unconscious and the prognosis was not good. We all hoped and prayed that he would survive while we prepared ourselves for the worst.
It was touch and go for awhile. He was immediately put in a hypothermic state to slow down the damage to his organs. When he awoke from his drug-induced coma he was miserable, but managed to display his dry sense of humor before intense abdominal pain led to emergency surgery. Over a foot of his colon was removed, likely damaged by the kayak or oars while he was under the water. He was on dialysis for approximately 6 weeks, but a few weeks ago his kidneys finally began functioning on their own. The good people at RIOSA confirmed that he had no brain damage and little physical damage. He doesn't remember the accident but he suffers nightmares nonetheless. He is healing but is too skinny now, his skin stretching uncomfortably over his formerly muscular, 6'11 frame. Cole is alive, and our family is unbelievably grateful, but he has scars now.
We all have scars. I don't know about you, but I am always aware of the wounds that caused mine. Although they are not physically obvious they've left jagged little marks all over my life, and I've resented them for many years. Only lately have I begun to realize the limitless value of those ugly marks. Of course I wish that the wounds had never occurred. I wish there was nothing unsightly marring my desired perfect state, no hideous memories to haunt me. But the scars remain despite my denial. Now they are priceless because they remind me that I'm a survivor. They remind me of valuable lessons and confirm that I have a purpose. They focus my passion for justice and deepen my faith. They have become priceless because I have chosen to use them to my advantage instead of living in the bitterness of the original wounds. They have become priceless because they have shown me the way to peace in the absence of answers.
Every time I see or feel my scars I am aware that I survived for a reason and that I have a purpose. I pray that every time Cole looks at the jagged marks on his own body he remembers that he survived and was spared for a purpose too. I pray the same for you.
We all have scars. I don't know about you, but I am always aware of the wounds that caused mine. Although they are not physically obvious they've left jagged little marks all over my life, and I've resented them for many years. Only lately have I begun to realize the limitless value of those ugly marks. Of course I wish that the wounds had never occurred. I wish there was nothing unsightly marring my desired perfect state, no hideous memories to haunt me. But the scars remain despite my denial. Now they are priceless because they remind me that I'm a survivor. They remind me of valuable lessons and confirm that I have a purpose. They focus my passion for justice and deepen my faith. They have become priceless because I have chosen to use them to my advantage instead of living in the bitterness of the original wounds. They have become priceless because they have shown me the way to peace in the absence of answers.
Every time I see or feel my scars I am aware that I survived for a reason and that I have a purpose. I pray that every time Cole looks at the jagged marks on his own body he remembers that he survived and was spared for a purpose too. I pray the same for you.
