Last week a long time friend and one of my surf buddies almost died while surfing. I had surfed earlier in the morning, and he went with another friend around noon. While paddling back out from his first wave he caught, as best as we can guess, he was pushing through a wave that caught him and pulled him backward, the board hitting him just above the eye and knocking him out.
He was dragged ashore by two other surfers that saw him laying face down in the water. He had stopped breathing, and chest compressions saw him spit up huge amounts of water, and then start breathing. He was covered in blood from the hit to his eye. He was taken by ambulance to a local trauma hospital. I met him at the hospital, and spent the afternoon with him. He was intubated and heavily sedated. He had a brain bleed, lungs still full of water, and his eye was not salvageable.
It is one thing to have a friend almost die in a car accident, but it really hit home to have him so injured doing a sport we have enjoyed together for over 30 years. My wife wanted me not to surf this last week, but I needed to get back in the water. Myself and two other of his friends surfed Monday, trying to shake off some PTSD from the event. It was hard paddling for that first wave, knowing our friend was laying in the hospital not 10 miles away.
He had 6 hours of surgery putting his skull back together, and is progressing remarkably well. After a scare with pneumonia and some cognitive issues, it looks like he is doing better. I had an hour visit with him yesterday, one week after the accident. It was the first day he was coherent, and had just been told he lost his eye. He was upset that his new wetsuit was cut off of him. We joked about him surfing with one eye, and having an excuse to surf bad and get in our way (called “dropping in” in surf speak).
He is still not out of the woods, with pneumonia being a constraint threat. Plus it will be some time before they know if his full cognitive capacities return after the traumatic brain injury. But todays conversation gave us all some hope.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this. Maybe just to remind everybody that life can be taken in a instant. Get out there and do what you love, and hold those you love close.
Wheat & Tares 
May your friend continue to progress!
I issue my strongest possible condemnation to this vicious accident that nearly destroyed the life of a good man.
As tragic as this was, it is worth taking time to ruminate on the fragility of human life. When our time comes, do we want it to be in a worthy pursuit, such as this, or in a frivolous escapade?
This good man was seeking to keep himself healthy through physical exercise. Far too many others end their lives in a long, slow decline.
Fear too many die from the effects of gluttony and drunkenness. They spend their lives immersed in the excesses of Irish nachos and German beer, clogging their arteries and deforming their livers beyond recognition. Instead of being able to surf at an advanced age, they can barely make it to the mailbox and back.
So let us all resolve to appreciate life. And let us do so in a way that enhances life, rather than diminishes it.
@BB I hope your friend continues to recover. I hate when the things we love end up being the things that hurt us.
I had an ironic experience after I posted my last comment, that is directly applicable here.
I have a Thanksgiving inflatable in my yard, which is the traditional Thanksgiving bull in a top hat holding a turkey. As I looked outside this morning, I saw that the bull had been crushed by the snow. I condemn the snow for doing this, but it does illustrate an important principle.
There are times in life when we are crushed by things that are out of our control, much like the inflatable bull had no control over the snow. But the bull recovered, with the help of a friend who shook the snow off.
So let us all follow the bull’s example of standing for prudence, sobriety, and patience.
This year, a friend from back in college shared that her dad had passed away the day before Thanksgiving. In the Beyond the Walls service today online, two different people sharing Christmas devotional remembrances were drawn to memories of such loss as well. And in the world of performing arts, many of us are pausing to remember the remarkable life of Tom Stoppard, one of the great storytellers and dialogue writers of our time.
Bishop Bill, thank you for giving us this space to pause and contemplate life’s fragility and value. My best wishes for your friend in recovery. 🙏
I’m driving to SLC from Phoenix at this moment to attend my mother in law’s funeral in two days. I spent Thanksgiving with my mother who has pancreatic cancer and whose treatment might kill her before the cancer does. It’s been a busy and heavy 3 weeks with a lot of travel and not enough sleep. Job layoff worries don’t help nor does the dumpster fire we seem to be living in the USA.
I told my wife as we were packing this morning, and as she was crying, that life is hard and we have to embrace and not fight the suck. She responded that she’s tired of the suck. We try to take turns struggling so that only one of us has a bad day at a time. The worst days are when we’re both down.
Life is hard. I hope your friend recovers quickly and fully, Bishop Bill. Honestly though I can’t think of anyone cooler than a one eyed surfer. lol.
JCS owns an inflatable bull but then condemns us for hot dog eating contests?
Thanks for this post. Really tragic in a way and touching in another. Good to keep perspective and hope close to and enjoy the moments with those you love. Glad your friend survived.
In July, I had open-heart surgery to have an aortic valve replacement. It was from a problem I’ve had since birth, but after 71 years of living, both the aorta and valve had deteriorated to the point where a widow maker was imminent. I was told in May about how bad the condition was, and the Doctor wanted me in surgery the next week. My wife and I had a cruise scheduled and paid for at the end of the month, so he said, “Don’t do any excursions, and we’ll see you when you get back. We also had a couple of other things my wife had to do in June, so that’s why we waited until July. It gave me a lot of time to think about how fragile life was and how much faith it took to put your life into the hands of someone else who is going to stop your heart, cut it open, and replace parts with artificial and animal parts.
It’s been a long and slow recovery. I still need oxygen a lot since I live at a high elevation, but it’s happening. I’ve also found that I no longer look at life or take it for granted. I also have a newfound love for family and friends, and I cherish moments together. Little things are important, and the big things can get very emotional for me.
We never know how much time we have on earth or what tomorrow may bring. I’ve found that today is a pretty good place to live.
The other thing to learn from JCS’s bull and his recovery is to try to be the friend who helps out whether it is getting the snow off so an inflatable can recover, or helping out when someone is ill or hospitalized.
And remember, a woman whose husband is hospitalized needs just as much help as the husband whose wife is hospitalized. Too often we think of the poor man with children and house he maybe not in the habit of caring for when his wife is incapacitated, but forget that a woman may be in the habit of the cooking and cleaning, but there may not be time on top of everything else. So, check with people to see what they need. Meals can be handled by stopping for pizza, or some husbands are perfectly capable of cooking. But a wife might find a prepared meal is perfect after spending all day at a hospital.
It is so much more helpful when it is exactly what they need, instead of what you are guessing. Just ask…..and then ignore when they claim everything is fine and sit with them anyway.
Many years ago, when my wife was 18 years old, she lost her two youngest siblings in a terrible car accident–they were only 9 & 12 years old. Her maternal grandparents also passed away in the same accident. As you can imagine, that accident turned her family upside down. In some ways they’ve never been the same–but in other ways they’ve not changed. Thankfully, in spite of all the difficulties associated with such a painful loss they’ve remained the good, sweet people that they were before. But, oh, what a burden of sorry to carry. I, personally, could not imagine that kind of loss. And while I’ve had to carry other burdens–I’m grateful that I’ve not had to experience that kind of loss–not yet, at any rate. As Bill has reminded us: life can be taken in an instant. And so there’s no better time than now to embrace our loved ones and tell them how much we love them.
I am about the same age as you Bill, (67). I still ski about 50 days a year and I go pretty hard for an old guy. A few years ago I was carried about 400 feet down a mountain in an avalanche. Fortunately I was able to stay on top of the snow and walked away with nothing but a lost ski.
As I talked about it with my wife, I explained that it is part of the game. I take precautions and try to be smart, but, there is some element of risk I cannot control. A year later I dropped into the chute where the avalanche occurred and a strange anxiety came over me. It was pretty eerie. I have been skiing for almost sixty years and I’m not willing to let it go.
There is risk all around us, all we can do is try to mitigate it where possible. It is part of what makes life joyous and fulfilling.
Glad your friend is doing OK.
Bob, I just took up skiing again after a 45 year break. I skied as a teenager, then stopped after I got married and moved to SoCal. I took up snowboarding and would 1-2 times a year, but would miss several years at a time. Well, I now have grandkids that are skiing. They live in Eagle Mountain, and ski Sundance after school almost weekly. So I skied with them last winter. They almost killed me with the crazy side trails they took me on, but I had the time of my life!
Bill, Sounds like me and surfing. My daughter lives in Huntington Beach with her husband and my five grand kids. We are down there regularly. My son in law grew up there surfing multiple times a week. I go with him and my 16 year old grandson when we visit and mostly I just get rolled around in the waves, but like you, I have the time of my life.