off my cold wet shirt, then quickly slipped on my favorite top, toasty warm from the dryer. Then a kiss, and look of joy from her sparkling eyes.
I began to cry inside as we touched down on the hospital roof. I wanted my mama's arms around me, for her to help me wake up from this bad dream. I knew she was coming for me, but I wanted her there right now! The roaring blades gradually slowed and we were on the move again; the me strapped down to a rolling bed, and the floating me that took in all the sites and sounds around us.
Five
What happened next was pure love. Each person that worked on me in the emergency room, and in the intensive care room, was there for a reason. The reason was love. The floating me could see inside their hearts and knew what led them there. The emergency room doctor, her mother died suddenly from a stroke when she was eleven. One nurse had a blood disease when she was small, and wanted to help sick people ever since. It was almost too much to take in, each of the many people buzzing around me, all studied very hard and sacrificed to get the jobs they wanted. Each had a reason to be there, each had a passion to help people. I was lucky to have them all there, and needed every one of them to do their job that afternoon.
My head was still throbbing, even more than before. Pain was starting to creep in, but just enough to let me know I was still alive. From flying into the windshield, my head began to swell, and pressure was building up dangerously. The doctors knew that if they didn't relieve the pressure I would die. They also knew that my brain was trying to make sense of it all and was very active. The doctors wanted my brain to be calm and the pressure to go down. So, they gave me some medicine to calm my brain, and drilled a hole in my skull to relieve the pressure. I could hear them saying big words I've never heard before; I could feel them knowing what to do, and then doing it. They were scared too, but did what they were trained to do. I wasn't the first little girl to fly into a windshield, crash a bike, or slip and fall.
I was moved from the emergency room, to an intensive care room. I was hooked up to a computer that told the doctors and nurses what was happening inside me. There was still a flurry of people around me, checking this or bandaging that. There were times when the computer alarms went off, I could sense myself starting to slip more and more towards the me watching over her. I hope I'm not confusing you; I'm the second Emma, the one talking to you, floating above the girl on the hospital bed. We are one in the same, but separated by a world I didn't know existed before we hit that bridge. I wondered how Grandpa was!
When things calmed down, and only one nurse was left in the room, the curtain swung open and suddenly Mom and Dad were there! Their eyes were red and they looked very sad, but happy to see me all the same. I waved again with both arms, like I did before, but they couldn't see me hovering above them. They both held my hand and told me they loved me and that things would be ok. The me lying in bed was sleeping a deep sleep because of the medicine the doctors gave me. I couldn't talk or open my eyes, but the computer numbers went up when my parents came in.
Mom and Dad weren't sure of anything, the doctors warned them I may not make it, but they would do everything they possibly could. I knew it before, but felt it now, felt how much joy I brought into their lives. They loved me with all their heart. I could tell they wanted me back in their arms again, and to live a full life. To grow from girl, to teen, to woman, and someday have a family all my own.
Six
The next few days were a roller-coaster ride for me. The pressure in my head would spike, then they'd try new drugs, which brought the pressure down. That worked for a while and I'd rest easy, then the pressure would rise again. Time is what I needed, and prayer. I didn't have that much time, but I had an abundance of prayers.
The floating me could hear all the prayers. I could easily hear the silent prayers of the people in the room, from Mom and Dad (or anyone visiting), but I could also hear prayers from miles and miles away. Just like I could magically fly alongside the helicopter, I could magically hear many prayers all at once, and understand them all. Maybe magic isn't the right word to use, maybe it was God, or an angel, but it seemed like magic. It just was.
I heard prayers from my family throughout the day, from both sets of grandparents, from aunts and uncles, to cousins, to school friends. I'd hear voices of people I didn't know, lots of them, hundreds and hundreds of voices! In the morning, exactly at 8:00 am, I’d hear my teachers and classmates praying for me. Then prayers all through the day, but the most would come around bedtime, from 8:30 pm, until midnight. Prayers passed through me, then to Emma lying in bed. Each prayer held me in its arms, each prayer helped me fight to live, each prayer brought me one step closer to being back in my bed in the city, or out on the farm with Noel curled up alongside of me. What the doctors and nurses did kept me from dying, what the prayers did, kept me connected and alive.
Besides my head, I had 2 broken bones, a deep gash on my back and leg, black and blue bruises over most of my body. When the truck came to a sudden stop, I flew forward, causing damage to my skull and brain, but the tools, saws, hammers, and coil of nails also flew forward. Some hit me on the way forward, some I hit as I was tossed back into the seat. I ended up in a pile, on the passenger side floor. My body was fighting a battle on many different fronts, the most intense being the damage to my brain. The doctors focused on my head, but also put a temporary cast on my wrist and elbow, they cleaned my wounds and stapled and bandaged me up the best they could.
I was a lucky girl to still be alive. I overheard that Grandpa had several broken bones, and a collapsed lung, but that he would be ok. In a way, I felt it was my fault he got in a wreck. If I hadn't been there, if I went home with Mom and Dad, everything would have been different.
Seven
It was 2 full weeks of not knowing for sure if I would make it. Then there was the worry that I was dead inside my head. One of the nurses kept telling my Mom and Dad that I would never be the same, and not to expect too much. That got them mad, but they held back from arguing. They knew their Emma much better than she did. They knew I was a fighter!
One of the other nurses was always talking to me, she'd ask me to squeeze her hand, she asked me what my name was. She'd tell me who came and went, and what a lucky girl I was to have such a strong family. She'd ask me to wink, or wiggle my toes, she somehow knew I was still there and wanted my family to know too. I was still unconscious because of the drugs, but the doctors decided to wean me off the coma medicine one day (as a test). Later that day, as that special nurse kept talking to me, I opened my eyes briefly!
Mom and Dad would come in together at times, then take turns watching over me. When allowed, there were lots of visitors, a few at a time. One gave Mom a small angel figurine; she rubbed and kissed and held onto it tight. I held on tight too! The pressure in my head rose again, so the doctors put me back on the coma medicine. One step forward, two steps back.
My brain quieted again, the pressure headed down, but I had a bad fever, 101 degrees one day, then 102, building to 102.5. They thought the tube inserted into the drilled hole in my skull had become infected. They cleaned everything out, put in a new tube, but the infection wouldn't go away. They dripped medicine from a plastic bag, into a tube inserted in my arm to help my body fight this unseen foe. The swelling was somewhat in check, but the infection and high fever could easily kill me if they didn't find the cause.
Mama would take folded up clothes, dampened with cool water, and dab away the fever from my forehead, face and neck. I couldn't tell her, but it felt like heaven to have her doing that. After 2 days of little change they finally found where the infection was coming from. The gash in my back was deeper than they thought, after a third look they removed a rusted bit of truck from deep inside me. From that point on, the tide had turned, my fever dropped, and the doctors slowly started withdrawing the medicine that kept me in a coma.
Eight
Endless prayers continued daily. If I told you all the prayers I heard, this would become a very long s
tory. Love and prayers from relatives are expected, but many came from people I've never met, from the checkout girl at the grocery store, to the president at my daddy's bank. An old lady (near the end of her life) lit a prayer candle for me at church, then sat towards the back and prayed for me and my parents; to prayers from bearded bikers full of tattoos. They all prayed for me. I could tell that some had never even met my parents, but they knew of them, knew what happened to me, and felt the struggle we must be going through.
As the doctors slowly reduced the drugs that kept Emma (me) unconscious, more and more signs appeared that I was coming back to life. The out-of-body floating me was beginning to fade, and I could tell we were about to merge back into one girl. I know she won't fully remember all that I've seen, but she will just know things, and no one will know how or why. Like the time that Aunt Aubrey came by to visit.
It was about my third week in the hospital and I was just starting to sense the world around me. My eyes would twitch and I could hear people asking me to squeeze their finger, or to answer their questions. I could sense several people in the room talking, but it still felt like I was