By Alissa Parker
Last week, I received a frantic phone call from Robbies brother, James, who was looking for his wife, Natalie. James and Natalie moved to Connecticut two months after our family did and have been our solid rock this last year after we lost Emilie. Natalie works a couple of blocks from their home in Danbury and had not returned home that night. Robbie and I looked at each other with panic, knowing that something was really wrong.
After James called 911, we learned that Natalie had been hit by a car while walking home from work and was in surgery at the hospital. As we sat there with James, hearing the doctors explain the extent of her serious injuries, we knew she was truly lucky to be alive. Natalies head had been badly injured and the bleeding in her brain could have easily killed her. For days, we sat in her hospital room… waiting. Waiting to see any signs that could give us hope that Natalie would be able to recover.
The ICU doctor came to check on her one afternoon and began talking to her and irritating her to see if she would react. Natalie, only able to open one eye at the time, reached up and grabbed the doctor’s hand and angrily shoved it away. Again and again, each time he tried to touch her, SLAP! she would hit him away. James, seeing his wife for the first time somewhat awake, walked up to her side and sweetly said her name. The irritated Natalie immediately turned her head towards James, smiled and reached her hands out towards him, needing her loving husband’s hands.