English 2010

*Please excuse video quality, three year old kept talking and moving camera.*

It was going to be a good weekend. School had just gotten out, we were on vacation, and not to mention, the start of my senior year of high school. It was mid-day on the second afternoon we were there. We were all in the kitchen laughing at a story someone had just told when my mom got a call.

“Hey Bee…. What—wait— slow down, what happened?” we all stared and waited. Everyone knew something was wrong. “Oh my god what?” She started crying. “What happened?” More sobs. “Where is she going?…. Ok we will meet you there.”

Everyone was dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. “Madi is being life-flighted to The University of Utah hospital. She fell into the fire-pit.” Everyone now was in a panic. We rushed to clean up and leave. The whole drive home was quiet; the occasional update text was the only exception.

Once we were finally there she was only allowed 3 visitors at a time we took turns to see her. When it was my turn and my little brothers neither of us could handle it: we both lost it when we looked at her. She was pale, both hands wrapped, with a blank face on. They drugged her so she wouldn’t panic and try to pull her dressings off. My brother was almost afraid to look at her; he just stared at the ground and tried to keep tears back.

This was Madi, my Madi. I watched her almost every day. She came to me when she was scared or hurt. We had sleepover almost every night. She had to hold someone’s finger when she was going to sleep. She always talked to everyone around her. Hockey was her favorite. We watched Spongebob every morning. We went on walks. We went to the park. Whenever she would cry she would fall asleep. She made everyone happy and smile. At three years old she was my little buddy. She was my shadow; she looks up to me. I was mom number two.

And now? She was lying in a hospital bed with an owie that couldn’t be kissed away. The light in her eyes was low and her smile was no-where in sight. When she noticed we were in the room she looked at us and said in a very flat tone, “The fire is hot. Look at my big arms.” Even through tears she managed to make everyone laugh.

She suffered from a second degree burn on her right hand and left knee and a third degree burn on her left hand. she was in the hospital for ten days, and has had to use compression gloves to keep the scarring minimal. since that day three years ago she’s had over a dozen surgeries, multiple compression gloves, and about three skin-grafts. she will have to continue her surgeries for a great number of years to come.

Now-a-days she has come very far from the toddler in the crib bed; physically she can do everything all of the other kids can do, she’s just a little slower when it comes to fine motor skills. There is visible scarring on the backside of her hand. For a long time after her accidents she wouldn’t go near anything remotely warm, she even took cold baths. Whenever she goes in for surgery she knows it. she becomes very distraught. she won’t let anyone other than her mom, grandma, or myself do dressing changes. She’s a little shy when people ask about her hand and won’t let people touch it. She has come very far but still has a long way to go before the end.