"Mom, would you meet us at the emergency room? There has been an accident, and the man said we needed to call you."

This telephone call from my thirteen-year-old son, Scott interrupted a lazy summer afternoon. All my senses went on full alert! "Are you okay?" I asked. "Yes, but Charlie isn't. Just go to the hospital. The ambulance will be there soon." The line went dead.

Oh God, let my child be okay, I prayed as panic began to engulf me. Charlie was sixteen and had only had his driver's license about three months. The boys had driven to the dentist to get their teeth cleaned and then they were off to the local swimming hole for an afternoon of fun. My neighbor, Damon stopped when he saw me and offered to drive me to the hospital. The ten-minute trip seemed to take hours.

Damon ditched the car in the parking lot, and we raced into the hospital. I wanted to scream "Where is my son?" It was business as usual there with everyone doing his job efficiently. We arrived ahead of the ambulance and walked outside to wait. My adrenaline was pumping, and
my heart was pounding.

There were no sirens blaring as the ambulance turned in the driveway. Had they turned them off as they approached the hospital or were they never on? It was as if I was watching a nightmare unfold. I couldn't move.

Scott got out of the front seat. He was still in his bathing suit, and he looked as white as a ghost. The back door opened, and a paramedic jumped out. He waited for his companion to help pull the stretcher out. The stretcher was completely covered.

"Oh no!" At last, I saw Charlie's face.

As he was wheeled past me, Charlie looked up and said, "Mom, I am so sorry. I did something dumb, and I hurt myself," Although I really did not know what had happened or what would happen next, it was a relief to hear him speak. The ER doctor made a quick assessment and called a surgeon to put in a few stitches.

Damon said that he would stay with Charlie while I filled out paperwork to admit him to the hospital. Other teens who had been at the swimming hole arrived to stay with us. Pieces of the story were emerging. It seems that Charlie had swung on a rope out over the water, but instead of dropping in, he backed into a rock wall. His friends had packed him in ice from their coolers.

After four long hours, the doctor came to tell us that Charlie would be fine. He was recovering from a punctured lung and some other deep wounds. The doctor couldn't remember how many stitches he had put in before he started to close, but there were 96 that would have to be removed.

Neighbors and friends gathered with us in the waiting room. Damon told us one funny dog story after another, none of which I remember. He spent the night at the hospital since my husband was out of town. We had all survived this day and I allowed myself to fall apart. Through my tears, I looked at Scott who was still wearing his bathing suit. He had experienced panic also, but his quick action, the support of our friends and good medical care saved his brother's life.