Glenn Longo wasn’t always a successful manager at a steer farm and able to live peacefully with difficult people; he had to learn to trust and obey his bosses; and he learned to be thankful.

Long ago, Glenn lived not only for the moment, but also only for himself. Then one day, he got hit by a truck when he was crossing the street and thrown fifty feet. He almost died before the rescue squad got him to the hospital. “Hurry up,” he heard one of the paramedics say, “or he’s not going to make it…”

He wouldn’t have made it without help.

Glenn suffered a collapsed lung; several broken ribs; a broken pelvis; a broken leg; a broken ankle; a concussion; and had cuts and needed stitches. But when he was struck by the truck, he didn’t feel a bit of pain, because he went into shock. Like a deer, he blacked-out, miraculously, when he saw the truck about to hit him, and didn’t feel any of the pain.

While Glenn was on a respirator in the Intensive Care Unit (the ICU) for the collapsed lung, he was heavily-medicated. It was like a dream and, since there were no windows, he never knew if it was night or day. He had to be bathed in bed, his hair shampooed and, eventually, cut. It was humiliating for Glenn, and not so pleasant for the nurses, either.

Glenn’s church prayed for him, and gave pints of blood (he lost about eleven pints in the accident). And four other churches prayed he would not die. God heard their prayers. And, even though Glenn was somewhat self-centered and unlovable, God saved his life.

When moved to the Secondary Care Unit (the SCU), for several days, Glenn had eight tubes in his body. He had a respirator tube in his throat with an apparatus set-up in his esophagus for it to go into his lungs to enable him to breathe, so, he had to be fed liquids through his nostrils. That made three. He had two IVs in his wrists; a catheter; and two in his armpits, sucking all the excess liquids out of his lungs. No open chest surgery, the idea was that he was healthy enough for his body to heal itself, with assistance. Some visitors couldn’t bear to see him lying there, on his back, one leg hanging in traction, with all the tubes, and stitches, and black and blue.

It was difficult for Glenn, in the SCU, especially his biggest test of when to be let off of the respirator. The nurses disconnected the thing, for Glenn to breathe on his own. Glenn panicked when he found it difficult, and thought he wouldn’t make it; but the nurses had to let him try. He had a button to push, to notify them, and he pushed it, repeatedly, but they wouldn’t help him. He thought he was going to die. But Glenn didn’t die because he passed the test. They took him off the respirator.

And Glenn was sent to a regular room for several more days.

“You’re on the road to recovery,” his doctor told him.

“When will I get out of here?” Glenn asked him.

“You’ll let us know when it’s time,” he said. “You will have around ninety-seven percent lung capacity. You’ll never be an Olympic sprinter, but I don’t think that was in your plans…”

“No,” Glenn thought, later. “I’m a marathon runner…”

One day, when the nurses, who were very busy with many other patients, took a long time to come to his room, Glenn yelled very loud, out to the hall, for them to come. Glenn’s physician, who just happened to be leading a group of interns around the corner, entered Glenn’s room. “I think it’s time for you to go, Glenn,” he said. “Remember, I told you that you would tell me when it’s time for you to leave…”

 

 

Years later, Glenn remembered people who’d helped him, and got very sentimental. He realized he was as bad as a person could be, and yet he received help. This made him reflect that he was very fortunate. And for that, he was grateful. “You had been nice to me in my life…”

“When I didn’t deserve it…”

“You’ve been good to me…”

 

Life gives me a chill
’cause of all the madness
I can be a jerk
but I’m not an actor

When I think of all the dumb things
that I’ve done in my life
I think: why would you ever love me?

On your perfect hill
or the darkest valley
I will praise your work
’cause I’m filled with gladness

When I think of all the dumb things
that I’ve done in my life
I think: why would you ever love me?

Because you’re a giver
not a taker
and since I’m forgiven
I’m a maker
not a changer
and I’ll praise you
the author and creator
of all these good things

But I’m stubborn, still
And I still imagine
I can make it work
What you have enacted

When I think of all the dumb things
that I’ve done in my life
I think: why would you ever love me?

Because you’re a giver
not a taker
and since I’m forgiven
I’m a maker
not a changer
and I’ll praise you
the author and creator
of all these good things

 

 

 

There’s help.