On June 11, 2005, I received a call around 10 a.m. My son Tim, a senior-to-be at Mentor High, had fallen from a four-story building while he was doing maintenance work. He was taken to MetroHealth Medical Center in Cleveland via Metro Life Flight.
We made an emotional drive to the hospital. We waited for what seemed an eternity before we saw him. In spite of all the wires and tubes, he looked normal. His arms were bloody and he was in a neck collar. He was heavily sedated. Trauma doctors were both amazed and bewildered by how few, yet serious, injuries he had considering the fall and landing on concrete. He was tested and quizzed by countless ER staff members.
After a more thorough evaluation of the x-rays, it was determined that his back was broken at the T 10-11 vertebrae and he needed spinal fusion surgery. With the severity of the injury we were told his football playing days were over. Even as sedated as he was, he heard those comments and began to cry. He said that if he couldn't play football again, his passion, that maybe he should have died. I cried along with him. I needed to be strong for everyone, but I could not hold back my disappointment for him.
While I was just happy he was alive and I wasn't here to claim a body, his mind was elsewhere. Nothing else mattered except he was alive. He was broken yet alive, with no apparent brain trauma. That's all that mattered.
Tim was taken to PICU later that afternoon as we made arrangements to stay the night. Several friends, coaches, family and Tim’s close friends visited him. He was upset at first. He didn’t want everyone to see him as he was. He was disappointed in himself and sorry to his friends and teammates. He was a star receiver and shortstop on the baseball team. He was excited about his senior year.
During the day we had met several doctors offering insight into his injuries. Spinal surgeon Dr. Michael Eppig said we could expect a complete recovery from his back injury and he would be allowed to participate in any activities he felt comfortable doing following his recovery. Although no one in the room believed this meant football, the news lifted everyone's spirits, especially Tim's.
We received countless phone calls asking for clarification and details of the accident, as rumors were rampant within the community that a kid had fallen off of a roof and died. His life was not in danger. We were told he should expect a full recovery. While that great news could not change the current pain he was in, it was such a relief.
Tim was prepped on Sunday morning and taken into surgery at 8 a.m. Some of his back pain and discomfort would be alleviated after his surgery. He came through surgery pretty well. He sat up in bed that night, walked the floor on Monday, did stairs on Tuesday, and came home on Wednesday. After what seemed like a long and hard rehabilitation process, Tim was beginning to do the things he did before the accident. After each follow-up visit to an astonished Dr. Eppig, Tim would beg to be allowed to play.
Miraculously, Tim was released for full contact activities in a little over three months. His goal was to play in his last home game of his high school career, and he did that four months to the day of the injury.
Today, he is a junior at Case Western Reserve University. He has been a starting wide receiver the past two seasons. He led Case with 59 catches and 900 yards as an all-conference 1st team selection. Without the immediate help from the outstanding MetroHealth medical staff, this would not have happened. They gave him a second chance at life and his passion. We as a family are forever indebted to all personnel involved. Thank you so much.
Sincerely, Jake Cowdrick