She Remembers....

Walking around the hospital where we've spent so much time, I couldn't help but realize the enormity of what we've all been through, concerning Victoria's (Tori) near drowning. How an amazing drama played out over 3 days. How Victoria had arrived at Emanuel Hospital in an ambulance and connected to a special respirator. Everything was chaos and questionable. Doctor's had done all they could do and were quietly harboring the idea that Victoria was going to die, because her body pH looked bad. In acute care room 11, the medical staff kept Tori's body chemically paralyzed and near 92 degrees, packing her with ice and using a water blanket. The sounds of a respirator, designed to push out the water that had filled Tori's lungs, shook the floor. There she laid; my daughter, my Tori, the love of my life, the child that I wanted since I was 19 years old. I was on the verge of losing her. Yet, I had accepted the idea that if I was going to bring home a dead child, then I would take the pain full on and redirect it into something useful--something loving--something meaningful. This story however, belongs Victoria and not me.

Some time after Tori was released to come home, I asked her what she remembered if anything. What she said next surprised me a bit. Victoria remembered struggling in the swimming pool to get air, to put her head above the water. She remembers losing the battle and falling to sleep, which is the moment when oxygen depletion caused unconsciousness. Next, she remembered being in the hospital, and the noise of the shaking respirator. At that time, I was told by the medical staff that a medication was given to Tori to promote memory loss. It was an effort to make her forget what had happened and what had been occurring at the time. She remembers...

Months later, Kim, Tori and I were walking through the hospital, after Tori had finished an outpatient rehab session. On a whim, Kim and I decided to go back and visit a nurse that was very good to us in the ICU. The nurse was surprised to see us and was floored to see how well Tori was doing. The room that Tori used to be in, room 11, was empty. Tori walked over, then into the room and threw up her hands and began to twirl. She knew that she had overcome a huge obstacle that sought to take her life, and she celebrated it. I started to get choked up, because Tori knew that she had won. I heard Rocky music for her. I saw her in a boxing ring scream with a crooked mouth, "Mommyyyy!" She is my champion: courageous, strong and determined.

As we walked out of the room, I turned to look at its number. I then turned to Tori and said, "The number on every jersey that you get from this day on will be 11." In number science (numerology), the number 11 is represented by an angel. Angels are creatures that are blessed with the ability of insight. A person wielding it will need to focus a great deal on self-mastery and perfecting their talents, skills, and abilites. As her father I understand what must be done. All my life I've felt the pull of the warrior. Aside from the warriors way that's in the bible, I've exhaustively studied both Bushido and Tsun Su's Art of War. It took a long time for me to relate the ideas of physical warfare to the warfare of the mental and spiritual. The weapons of our warfare are not carnal... My children will be prepared.

Cave, adsum. (Beware, I am here)