Hurrah For Israel

Have you ever wondered what you’re first instinct/reaction would be if you were to witness an accident? Are you a fighter or a flighter? Would you run to find help or respond to the scene yourself as fast as you could? I’ve often wondered this. I pass out at the sight of blood and even talking about accidents makes me queasy. I am not tough when it comes to this sort of thing. So I’ve often wondered what I’d do if I were to witness an accident of some sort.

Well, on Friday, I found out.

We had just had an awesome water fight to celebrate Carnaval with our kiddos. (If you haven’t yet, read about it here first, it might make this post make a bit more sense)

Well at three o clock, after much chasing, chucking, and ducking for cover, I was cold, wet, tired and ready to end this fiesta.  Of course the kids weren’t. I retreated upstairs and watched the kids continue to battle it out from the window on my second floor. Feliciana and Melchora were also watching from a window in a different room. 

Israel is an adorable kiddo with a big smile, a big heart and a little bit of mischief mixed in there. He was on Ricardo’s team for the water fight, determined to not leave a single dry square inch on my body.

This is my Fierce Israel

Israel (the lion in the middle) with his Camo brother Lazaro and his spiderman neighbor Reuban

I painted all of Israel's siblings faces. This is four of the 8 in their family

He had taken his shirt off and was standing on the ledge of our side walk, laughing in triumph at my retreat.  Ninos were cheering in agreement, and I watched in horror as Israel lost his balance on the ledge and fell backwards off of it and onto who knows what. I knew that there was a 6 or 7 foot drop off, but I wasn’t sure what was on the other side.  I just knew that he had gone straight back off of it.

So here we are. I just witnessed a crisis. My little boy was down. From what I could tell, there were no other adults around.  And…Here’s what I did.

I screamed! Just one, kind of short, scream.

Then I ran.

I sprinted down the hallway, literally flew down the stairs, taking 3 or 4 at a time, flung the door open, sprinted across the road and found a path down to where Israel had fallen, not knowing what I was going to find. It didn’t really pass through my mind that he could be unconscious or dead, I just knew I had to get down there and do something.

I found Israel on the ground, his body contorted, conscious and crying hysterically (THANK GOODNESS!). His legs were underneath him and he was holding his left arm in pain. I looked up to the group of people standing up on the ledge looking down on us.  All my ninos had gathered round and I found Melchora’s face in the crowd. Desperate for help, I yelled out, “What do I do?”. Of course, no one answered me (I spoke in English) and at that point Aleksi had rushed down and was by my side with Israel.

I knew that you weren’t supposed to move bodies when there was a chance of broken bones until there was a trained professional there, so I was hesitant. And then it hit me, “Hello Noelle. You are in the tiniest little city in Peru, and the closest hospital is 30+ minutes away, and even if we could get someone to help him, Israel comes from a family of 8 children. They are as poor as poor can be and could not afford the medical bills, doctor visit, let alone the bus ride up there. How on earth is this going to work out?”

Aleksi and I carefully lifted Israel out of the trench and carried him up the hill and back up to the sidewalk. Ricardo (who had been off with his devious team, plotting an extreme attack against me….) showed up right then and took Israel from us and brought him inside to lay him on the table.

At that point, Israel was still crying, the kids were following us in a little train and my mind was racing. Ok we have to check his entire body and see what’s hurt the worst, we have to get him warm and dry, we have to make him comfortable, we have to calm him down. I think at this point I got a little bossy (forgive me!) “Abby, can you get a towel and a shirt or jacket?” “Aleksi, Ice and a pillow!”  And then my American’s were gone and I was left in a room full of Peruvians, and a hurt Israel.

And then I witnessed a miracle. 

Ricardo (who speaks English and Spanish, wahoo!!!) was awesome! I knew what had to be done, but I haven’t gotten to the chapter in my Spanish book that talks about accidents or injuries so I had no idea how to express to Israel what I needed him to do or tell me. 

Luckily Ricardo was on the same page and knew exactly how to handle it. We went through Israel’s body, head to every last pinky toe and made sure that he could move it in every plausible direction and that it didn’t hurt.

 I cringed when we got to his legs, expecting the worst. He was scared too and hesitant to move them.  It took some coaxing to let him allow us to bend his knees, rotate his feet and twist his hips. His right hip was really sore and giving him lots of grief, I figure that must’ve hit the ground first. 

His knees: clear. His ankles: clear. His feet: clear. His toes: clear, each and every last little toe.

His tummy: fine His arms: a bit scratched up, but I cleaned those right up with my first aid kit (wahooo Nurse Noelle!). His shoulders: Good as gold. Elbows: working great. His one wrist was in a lot of pain, but from what we could tell, it wasn’t broken. Wahooooo!!!!

Next came the big test, can he walk? Again, he was hesitant to put his weight on his legs and walk by himself, but we were pretty adamant and guess what? He walked like a champ. Yes, it was slow and shaky, but one foot in front of the other, he propelled himself forward.

Oh my goodness, I couldn’t believe it. How was this little boy walking away with only a sore hip, wrist and a scratched up arm? I’ve replayed watching him fall from the window over and over again. From that very instant he fell, I knew that major damage was going to be done.

I tried to count the number of silent and verbal prayers I offered from the moment he fell to the moment Ricardo and I dropped him and his siblings off at his home, but it was impossible. There were prayers offered out of urgency, from confusion, from the need for enlightenment. Countless, “Please let him be ok, please let him be ok.”.  Prayers asking Israel’s pain to subside. Prayers asking for him to be calm and at peace. And finally prayer after prayer of gratitude.

Israel and his brother Lazaro

Thank you so much for the prayers said on my behalf and that of my ninos. As I sat next to Israel while we were checking him for injury, my job was to mainly keep him calm and comfortable. I held him close while he sat up and stroked his head while he laid down. In that moment, I realized that I love these kids so much. I wished so badly that I could trade places with him. I knew that if I had broken an arm or leg, sure it’d stink big time, but I’d manage. I couldn’t stand the thought of one of my kids being seriously hurt. So thank you for keeping them in your prayers because I’d be a mess without them.

Oh I am so grateful that he is ok. Like I said before, these kids are poor, in a way that I don’t think you or I can fully comprehend (at least I know I can’t). I was so scared that he was going to need medical treatment that he simply would never have the opportunity to get.

But he’s safe, he’s well, he’s a little sore, but he’ll be alright. And for that word’s cannot express my joy and gratitude.

Hurrah for Israel, Hurrah for Israel.

P.S. Keep in mind that this was also the day of our Extreme Mold Crisis (blog post coming soon) where we were told we had to pack up and leave THIS instant. Talk about stress!