I'm going to start this blog off with a post I wrote a few years ago. As a trucker's wife, one of the worries you have is that phone call that lets you know there's been an accident. I love my husband. We are partners. We keep each other grounded. The thought of living my life without him sends me into panic attacks. I love that man.
The day I wrote about here, it was the most horrifying, most heartbreaking day of my life. Others who have almost lost their love will relate.
As of the day I publish this first post, I've been married to my husband for fourteen years and together with him for sixteen.
As of 5 minutes ago, (when he text me) he's alive and well. So don't go having panic attacks reading this. lol
There Are No Words
'I says, "Pig Pen, this here's the Rubber Duck.
"We just ain't a-gonna pay no toll."
So we crashed the gate doing ninety-eight
I says "Let them truckers roll, 10-4."
I smile as my father-in-law's ring tone rings out of my cell. "Allo?"
"Hey. Are you home?"
I pull out the coffee pot out. "Yep. You coming for coffee?"
"Nope. I'll be there in a minute."
I reach for the tea kettle instead and true to his word, Ken is walking through my front door a minute later. He looks around the living room.
"Where are the kids?"
I gesture to the back yard.
"Mimi, I'm going to Saskatoon. Kyle's been in an accident."
I look at him blankly while this registers and I silently pray for the 'sike' I know isn't coming. "What?"
"Kyle's been in a bad accident."
"On the highway?" My heart drops and my chest tightens.
"No. In the NRT yard. I couldn't get a whole lot of details, but it sounds like he got hit by a truck."
Visions of Kyle being hit by a semi flash through my head.
There are no words to describe how I feel. Shocked, devastated, scared, overwhelmed. These words will never accurately describe the feeling in the pit of my stomach. I fight back the tears so I won't scare the kids and grab my cell to let my dad know the tiny bit of information I have.
"Kids, come on!" I call out the window. "You guys are going to go play at Grandmere and Grandpere's!"
The kids whoop and holler and come running into the house. I remember the diaper bag and Anthony's seizure medication and that's it. As a last second thought, I call the dog to come along... I'm not sure why.
My mom and dad are waiting for us on the front lawn. Dad pulls me into a hug.
"Are you going alone? Do you want me to come along?"
"Ken...." I start to break down and take a few deep breaths to compose myself before the kids can see. "I'm jumping in with Ken."
By then my father-in-law has pulled up behind me. I hand my mom the diaper bag.
"I... I think there's diapers in it. Anthony's pills are in there."
"Where are you going, mommy?"
I contemplate telling the kids their dad got run over by a truck and I come up blank on how to do it.
My mom hugs me. "Mommy and Papa have to do some running around." To me she says, "We'll wait till we know more, and we'll let them know then. Go. We'll worry about the kids."
I try to smile then run to Ken's truck, detour to my van, let the dog out, then head back to the truck.
He fills me in on the news update he's gotten. (This is Kyle's rule, by the way. If anything happens to him, everyone is suppose to get a hold of his dad first, who is then in charge of telling me. I think it's supposed to make the bad news seem.... less bad? I don't know.) Knowing I'm about to lose it, I pick up my phone and call Kyle's best friend since he was, well, born; his cousin Sheldon.
"Hey, Mimi, how's it going?"
"I've been better. I'm on my way to Saskatoon. Kyle was in an accident. I'm not sure exactly, but it sounds like he was working under his trailer and when he slid out from under the trailer, a truck didn't see him and ran over him."
We're both quiet for a minute.
"I'm off till tomorrow," he says. "If you need anything..."
"I'll let you know. Thanks. As soon as I know more, I'll let you know."
And as we leave Prince Albert to go to Saskatoon, all I can think of is that at this moment, my husband is in an ambulance and on his way to the hospital.
A half hour into our hour and a half ride (though it didn't take that long at the speed my father-in-law was driving) and no news later, I'm getting close to breaking down once again. Ken is either feeling the same way, or can see I need something to do.
"Do you have dispatch on your phone?" he asks. (He drives for NRT, too)
"No."
"Grab my phone and phone the bulk side."
I do as he says and am glad when Dale picks up the phone. I love his voice. It's deep and calm, and right now, it's just what I need.
"Hey, Dale, it's Mimi. Can you tell me what the hell happened?"
"We're not sure. All we know for sure is that somehow the tire truck pinned him to his trailer. We don't know why the kid driving didn't see him or the semi there, or anything like that, but we should be able to tell more once we look at the video more closely. What I can tell you is he was conscious when the ambulance took him away."
Tears fill my eyes because that right there is great news. One, he didn't get run over by a semi, he was pinned by a one ton. Yes, I realize that it's still not good news, but if I had to pick between a semi and a one ton to run over or hit me, I'd pick the one ton. And two, he's conscious."
"Do you know what part of him got pinned?"
"From what he told the cops and paramedics, its sounds like from the top of his chest to his knees."
I must make a noise because he rushes on. "But, Mimi, a few guys looked at the tape and say he was bent over when the truck rolled towards him. He stood up a fraction of a second before it pinned him."
The realization of that statement hits me and new tears fill my eyes. Had he not stood when he had, it wouldn't have been my father-in-law bringing me the news of my husband's accident. I take a deep breath and swallow hard a few times.
"Ok. Thanks Dale. I should be at the hospital in about an hour. I'll let you know how he is when I find out."
"K. Let him know we're all thinking about him."
I relay this information to Ken.
"Well," he says, "it's better than being run over by a semi."
We look at each other and start to laugh, because, well, it's better than crying.
We finally get to the Royal University Hospital and head to emergency where we are met by another of Kyle's cousins who lives in Saskatoon and came to be with him so he wouldn't be alone. Billy gives me a hug.
"They won't tell me much cause I'm just his cousin, but he's getting a CT scan and x-rays done right now. I haven't seen him yet."
"Mimi!"
I turn and get a hug from Wendy, one of the secretaries at NRT.
"They're not telling me much either," she says, "even though when they asked who I was, Kyle told them I was his wife until his real wife got here."
I can't help but laugh. Leave it to Kyle to get pinned between two trucks and still joke around.
"What I can tell you is what I saw before they wheeled him away for his scans. He's having trouble breathing, so maybe some broken ribs, his right leg might be broken, and his left arm, but he's concious and he's joking."
A few minutes later, we watched as he gets wheeled by on his way to the room he's staying in. He's covered in blankets, he's wearing a neck brace, there are IV's and lines everywhere, and when the bed rolls over a small bump in the floor, I want to cry at the pain I can see he's in. I think there he is; the man I love, who I've been with for eleven years, been married to one month shy of eight. We've been through hell and back together, and he's lying there and there's nothing I can do for him. I kick my praying into high gear. Please, dear God, I can't do this without him. You can't take him away from me.
A couple of hours later, Billy and Wendy have gone home and we've promised to phone should we need anything. Kyle's mom and sister are also at the hospital and we are still waiting for news. Karen, my sister-in-law, and Ken head to the NRT yard to go get his things from the truck. Marlene and I wait and try to keep Kyle as comfortable as possible while the nurses try to keep up with the overflow of patients.
Finally, two doctors walk into the room and look at my husband in amazement. The one holding the chart looks at me.
"You're his wife?"
I nod and he looks at his chart again.
"I'm sorry we took so long," he says, "but we were trying to find something wrong with him."
Everyone is quiet for a second and I finally find my voice.
"What?"
"Well, we did the CT scan and xrays, and there's nothing. Well, nothing major. But nothing like what we would usually see with this type of accident." He takes the neck brace off of Kyle and tilts the bed up so he can see. "You must be made of steel, Kyle."
Kyle catches his breath after the pain just sitting up has caused. He smirks. "Milk does the body good."
I'm still in shock, I think.
"So, here's what we found. You have torn ligaments in your knee, a small break in your elbow, and your ribs are bruised, but not cracked." He shakes his head. "Not one cracked rib. You'll be extremely sore for a while, the knee will take a long time to heal, but other than that..." He grins.
"So... he's fine?" I'm still sure I haven't heard right.
"He's fine. The man got pinned between two trucks and he's fine."
Now, when I prayed to God not to take my sweet away from me, I'd been willing to deal with paralyzed, missing limbs, anything, but this... this is a miracle.
"I'll go get you a brace and some crutches, and I'll be back."
"So he gets to go home?"
The doctor still looks just as shock as I feel. "You can take him home."
"Mi, can I bug you one more time?"
I smile. "That's what I'm here for."
"Can I get a glass of water, please?"
I take Kyle his water and kiss him softly, then go back to the kitchen and start to cry. Tears of relief, tears of joy; tears of thanks. My sweet is home and well. He is in a lot of pain, he can barely move, and has to go see a surgeon about his knee on Tuesday, but he's here.
And for the millionth time today, I thank God for answering my prayers and throwing in his own miraculous twist in there for good measure.
We still aren't sure what happened exactly, but I'm sure they'll figure it out with the investigation going on. Mostly, Kyle just remembers standing and getting pinned then pushing the truck off enough to get out. He then walked a short distance before declaring that he didn't feel good, and fell to the ground. Right now, I can honestly say I don't care. I'm just happy he's home. But for the sake of avoiding accidents like this again, I hope they find out what went wrong.
To all of you who prayed for us that night and kept us in your thoughts, thank you. I will never be able to say it enough.
I remember it like it was yesterday. My first crush. I was five years old. I know, I was young, but what can I say, I was born a romantic. He was brave, had spiky black hair, and wore some sexy ass red boots. *sigh* I know. He sounds perfect, right? Oh. Wait. Did I mention he was a cartoon? Yeah. But look at him! Astro Boy was bloody cute! Am I right?
Later on in life, I had a few crushes all at once. What can I say. It's when I started falling for the sarcastic ones and the world of cartoons was reading my mind. Raphael from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Peter Venkman from Ghostbusters... There were more, but I don't think you want to read ten pages of cartoon characters. 
I'm not going to lie, though. I had a favorite. Remember Throttle from Biker Mice from Mars? Yeah. He was amazing. And yes, I know he's a mouse. 
