On the morning of Nov 4/2002, and all through out the day and evening, we were all just a very typical family. On Nov 5/2002, our lives as we knew it came to a crashing halt. Brian and Karen have been married for almost 24 years. In our marriage we were blessed with two wonderful sons, Devin, who was born in 1984 and Jordan, who arrived in 1988. We have lived in the south Calgary community of Deer Run since 1985. The community has been home to both our sons since their birth. Both Devin and Jordan attended school at Deer Run Elementary and Jordan attends Lord Beaverbrook High School where he is in Grade 12 this year.

Imagine the phone ringing at 11:20 at night at your house.

It rang at exactly that time at our home on November 4, 2002 and a panicked voice on the other end said, “Devin has been hit, we’ve called an ambulance”. Having been awakened from a deep sleep, we recalled the events of the evening. Devin had an evening class at St. Mary’s and then told us that he was going to meet friends after class. He flew out of the house that evening as he usually did. He had already worked all day and was running late. Little did I know that when Devin said good-bye to me that night, those would be the last words my son would ever speak to me?

My husband Brian and I were surprised at the call, as Devin had never been involved in any physical confrontation with others. I tried Devin’s cell phone and did not get an answer. I then phoned the hospital where I worked and asked if Devin had arrived. The answer was no. Brian and I decided that I would go to the Rockyview Hospital and drive him home and we both felt at the time that it would be nothing serious and his friends may have over-reacted in calling an ambulance. I arrived at the Rockyview sometime later, but Devin had still not arrived. We phoned the Foothills Hospital and I was told that Devin was there and I needed to get there quickly. During the drive to the Foothills Hospital, I convinced myself that his injury would be nothing serious and I would bringing him home soon. Over the cell phone, I also convinced my husband of this and told him to stay home, stay in bed, I would handle the situation. Little did I know of what was to come?

Upon arriving at the Foothills, my nightmare began. I was told that the nurse would escort me to the “family room” and having worked in the ER for many years, I knew the situation could not be good. The family room is a meeting place where we take families to discuss seriously ill patients. It gives the doctor privacy to discuss the immediate care of the patient. The first doctor to see me was an Emergency Physician. He explained that Devin had received ONE punch to his temple area. Even with my emergency experience, I wondered how this type of injury could make him a trauma patient and why there had been a need to bring him to a trauma center. He explained that Devin was unconscious and was not breathing on his own. The paramedics had put a tube down his throat so that they could breathe for him. He was having a CT brain scan at the moment to find out the severity of the head injury. I will never forget the next words that the physician spoke and they will be etched in my memory forever. “I don’t think your son will survive this injury”.

I then phoned my husband to come right away. The next thing I remember was Brian entering the family room. I then had the horrible task of relaying to him what the doctor had told me. My husband, Devin’s dad, who I love dearly and had spent the last 20 years with, crumbled to the floor as he heard that our son may not survive. The next few hours seemed like days.

They moved Devin to the Intensive Care Unit and we had only had the chance to see him for a few precious moments in the ER. Our younger son arrived with his grandmother, and Brian and I had to then tell Jordan that his older brother was probably going to die. We also had the task of calling the rest of our family and close friends. Over the next few hours they all arrived to wait for the outcome of this horrible nightmare.

Hospitals can be very confusing and the family waiting room is a long way from the Intensive Care Unit. On the floor is painted a green line and we were instructed that to get back and forth from the I.C.U. to the waiting room, we were to follow the green line. That green line will forever remain in my memory. I’m sure many of you have seen the movie “The Green Mile”. In that movie the green mile represented the path that the inmate followed to be executed. That’s how I felt that night every time I walked that green line from the waiting room to Devin’s bedside. I felt I was walking to my death as I did not know how I would survive when my son died. We were allowed to sit with Devin over the course of the night and I prayed as I had never prayed before that he would live. To give you an idea of the severity of Devin’s head injury, normal pressure in your head is about 15. Devin’s pressure was over 100.

The next morning the doctors needed to perform one last test that would give us a final answer about Devin’s condition. They were going to take him to see if he had any brain activity at all. The answer came back as NO. We then needed to make a decision. Devin had no chance of recovery and he was being kept alive by a machine that was breathing for him. In a short time his whole body would begin to shut down because of the enormous pressure inside his brain, this all from one hit to his head, one act of senseless violence. We then decided as a family to donate his organs. The process of saying good-bye to our son began. I cannot tell you of the anguish of the next few hours and of having to say our final good-bye to Devin. He was taken to the operating room to remove his organs for donation, which saved the lives of at least six recipients in the hours and days that followed.

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