This is why I am lucky:
I had a very dear friend in college. We had the same circle of friends, but didn't really become REALLY close until after my accident. Back in my North Georgia days, I was a workout machine. One cold Friday night in January of 2003, I was going for a run in the wellness center before I met up with friends later that night. My dear friend Stephen was also in the gym working out. It was the two of us in the gym and *maybe* seven other people, including the staff. He finished his workout before me and came over to the treadmill where I was running to tell me to have a good weekend. I stopped the treadmill (I was running at a 6.6 pace and had run 12.22 minutes. Funny the things that stick in your mind). I was in the process of telling him to have a good weekend to when my heart stopped beating. This meant no oxygen was getting to my brain resulting in my passing out on the gym floor.
I was immediately knocked unconscious. The back of my head split open and I had profuse amounts of blood coming from my head. Stephen was there and knew what to do. He remained calm, notified the gym staff and raised my feet to keep the blood flowing. He waited by my side until the ambulance came. Most normal college kids would have bid me farewell at that point, but not Stephen! He drove to his house to grab a couple granola bars for his "dinner" and then to the hospital (both very close together). He waited for me to stabilize and then contacted my parents (by this time it was 9 or 10 at night). He waited for mom and dad to come to the hospital and gave them updates and told them what happened. In short - he helped to save my life that night. You tell me how a bond doesn't form between two people when something like that happens.
I had staples in my head, a concussion, several contusions, severe headaches, but miraculously most of my sustained injuries were short lived or minimal. I had to learn how to walk again, which was a chore. Literally, I had to learn how to put one foot in front of another. I was "praised" by physical therapy one day for taking 14 steps. I had to have special accommodations to finish my semester at NGCSU because of my severe vertigo, extended shortness of breath, and memory loss. I lost my sense of smell for 7 years because the nerves were severed and took that long to grow back. It was a very difficult time in my life.
I still have some memory loss and my optical nerves were damaged from the injury, but my eye doctor keeps a close "eye" on those nerves. It was a long, long road to recovery that a lot of people didn't understand because I looked fine from the outside. Stephen knew though, because he saw it all happen. He would frequently check on me by phone calls or visits and was always making sure I was safe. He was never more than a phone call away anytime I needed him.
Fast forward to 2004. Stephen had been sick for years with a disease called apastic anemia, which is similar to leukemia. He would have to get platelet transfusions every so often and would get infections sometimes that would put him down and out for a week or two at a time.
I will never forget the day he told me his disease had progressed and he was going to need a bone marrow transplant up at Duke University. He came over a night or two before he left for Duke and had dinner with my family. The two of us sat outside in on the driveway underneath the summer star filled night in the mountains and talked about everything there was to talk about until we could not talk any more. He had become my best friend - a brother. Right before he left we talked about death. It was as if he knew his time was short and he was not going to survive. He told me his chances of surviving were not good, but he wasn't afraid of death. He said knew where he was going, and knew he would be ok. We sat in silence. We both cried. I told him he helped me when I was close to death, so I wanted to pay it forward and do what I could for him. I remember this conversation like it was yesterday.
A couple of days later he moved to Duke with his mom for treatments and I moved to Columbia, South Carolina for graduate school. Stephen and I talked virtually daily for at minimum 45 minutes. He told me about his treatments, and I tried to entertain him with trivial occurrences in my life that I hoped would make him laugh and keep his mind off of what he was going through. I would visit once a month and I would not take those visits back for anything in this world. I treasure them like I would a close siblings visits under these circumstances. I treasure those visits so much and count them as one of my blessings. He was always so upbeat until the very end, and was wise beyond his years. He always knew just what advice I needed, even if it stung a little.
Stephen had ups and downs while he was at Duke. I always knew when he wasn't feeling well because his phone would go straight to voicemail. The last time we talked was Valentine's Day 2005. He quit taking phone calls shortly after that day because his health was declining. He turned 25 on March 9th and then died on March 10th.
His mother called me to tell me the news. We had grown close over the preceding months. It was a tragic day. I still miss him terribly at times. I am lucky to have Wade who understands and to talk to about my "brother" Stephen. One of the things that came to me when our baby died was knowing that our baby was going to be greeted in heaven by the ones who Wade and I loved the most on earth. I know Stephen was there taking our little one under his wing. Stephen promised me he would be at my wedding, even if he had to stand in the back with his germ mask on hooked up to all of his tubes. He said he would not have missed it for anything. On our wedding day, there was a quick storm that passed right as the ceremony began. The thunder clapped at the most appropriate and most spiritual times during our vows, and I knew that was my good buddy Stephen telling me he was there with us. His family asked me to speak at his funeral. There is not a greater honor I could have received.
I have stayed in contact with Stephen's parents over the years. They came to our wedding. We talk on occasions like Mother's Day, Father's Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas and around Stephen's birthday on earth and birthday in heaven. We will chat every now and again at random times.
They are like family. We both know what it is like to lose a child. I have to wonder if that is part of the purpose for Stephen's life. Add this to my questions to ask God when I meet him.
The story of the man who was killed in the linked article reminds me that my work is not done here. I should have died. I should have never survived. My functioning level should be lower than it is, and I am fortunate to not have permanent brain damage and to even be able to walk.
Positive thoughts going into this weekend. My work on earth is not done.
I hope I will be remembered as fondly, and leave such an incredible legacy behind as my dear friend, who helped to save my life, Stephen. I miss you buddy!
Stephen Winford Jordan
March 9, 1980-March 10, 2005
| Stephen Jordan, age 25, quietly stepped from his earthly residence into the presence of Jesus on March 10, 2005. He developed complications from a bone marrow transplant received at Duke University Medical Center, Durham, N.C., in August 2004, for aplastic anemia and myelodysplasia. He fought the disease for almost 10 years, and his life was an inspiration to all who knew him. Stephen is the son of Dr. Guy and Alice Jordan of Gainesville. In addition to his parents, he is survived by his sister, Kit Jordan of Birmingham, Ala. Paternal grandparents are Walstein and Vivian Jordan of Blackshear, Ga., and maternal grandparents are William and Lolly Thorne of Atlanta. Stephen was a 1998 graduate of North Hall High School. He received his Bachelor's of Business Administration from North Georgia College & State University in 2003. He is a Life Loyal Sig of Sigma Chi Fraternity. He was employed prior to transplant at Akins Ford in Winder. He was an active member of First United Methodist Church of Gainesville. Stephen had a strong relationship with the Lord and influenced many people through his faith. He loved the outdoors, mountain biking, hiking, golf and working out. Despite his compromised health condition, he took advantage of all of the opportunities to enjoy these activities. He loved spending time with his family and friends, and was funny and always entertaining. In lieu of flowers, please send donations to the Stephen Jordan Benefit Account at Regions Bank, 3312 Thompson Bridge Road, Gainesville, GA 30506. Donations will be divided among three organization/charities in which Stephen was involved. The family will receive friends from 5 to 8 p.m. , at the funeral home. A celebration of Stephen's life will be held at 2 p.m. Sunday March 13, 2005, at Gainesville First United Methodist Church with graveside services to follow at Memorial Park Cemetery. Memorial Park Funeral Home, Gainesville The Times, Gainesville, Ga., March 12, 2005 Originally published Saturday, March 12, 2005 |
I literally have tears streaming down my face. What an amazing, tragic, beautiful story. You have been through so much, and your faith and optimism in the face of it all is inspirational. This is a beautiful tribute to a very special friendship.
ReplyDeleteThank you! I try to stay upbeat but at the same time not hide or sugarcoat some of my less than pleasant emotions. Stephen was a very special person that I was privileged to know - even for Just a few years. I am glad his life touched you today. That is the kind of person he was! :)
ReplyDeleteAs soon as I saw his name, I knew this was going to be a hard post to read. I remember how close you guys were back at NGCSU. Funny though, when I saw the start of the treadmill story my first "wonder" was if you could smell yet!!! Glad to hear that you have that back :)
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