Last Monday seemed normal enough. The temperature was mild. My first delivery contact arrived just as I had finished pulling his order. And there was no rain in the forecast for the morning.
What could possibly go wrong?
By the time I reached my third stop and things were progressingl just as nicely, it happened. For no reason I can pinpoint to this day, I lost my balance. With a case of canned pears under my arm, I fell four feet from the tailgate to the street below.
Fortunately, my left hand and the case of pears broke my fall.
Four cans of pears didn’t make it.
My mind raced with thoughts. Would I be able to just brush myself off and keep going? Did I break anything? What just happened here?
As the minutes passed I surrendered to the increasing pain and called my employer to share the bad news.
Two hours later, I was in the emergency room.
As I sat in triage, the nurse there noticed the giant purple cloud in my hip.
“Good Lord, that’s a big bruise!”
She pointed to my hip.
I won’t bore you with the details of my four hour stay in the hospital. But I did get to watch TV whether I wanted to or not. I got to see what the pediatric section of the emergency ward looks like. And I had my first ever hematoma.
The hematoma was the most surprising because it swelled up like an air bubble in a car tire several hours after the fall. It was right at my waistline. When my waistband touched it, I felt like someone was holding a lit cigarette lighter next to my hip.
The doctor who saw me asked me questions and poked around until he found where I winced.
“I think you’re just bruised up, but we’ll run some X-rays just to be sure nothing is broken.”
Sure enough, nothing was.
But it didn’t feel that way in my ribs.
Because the bruise had gotten so big, I couldn’t fasten my pants. Thank God I wore my belt that day!
I spent the next few days wondering how much it would hurt to get up and sit down around the house.
I know God was looking after me. I later found out my son had posted on Facebook that this was “the worst thing ever for our family.” My wife and daughter posted requests for prayer. I had numerous messages wishing me well and offering prayer support.
It’s good to know you’re not alone when you’re hobbling in the valley of the shadow of death. Eventually the valley ends and you rise again. God made the valley and the mountain. He’ll be with you in both places, whether you feel Him or not.
You take it to heart.