One year ago today, my son fought in a Muay Thai match. When he left the ring, his teammates noted some strange behavior and confusion. And a dilated eye. There happened to be an ambulance on-site for emergencies (some fights have them, some don’t, regulation is a grey area) and he was taken to a hospital.
I was not in attendance at the fight, I was camping a hundred miles away.
I did some contemporaneous posts on the old chain (for example this one) as events unfolded.
He lived, but it was a very close call. The ambulance made all the difference. The surgeon told me that if my son had arrived even five minutes later, he would not have made it.
Thirteen days of hospitalization followed by months of therapy and follow up.
But he survived. That’s all that matters to me.
He sent me a text this morning:
Morning Dad. One year since everything changed. Thanks for being there every step of the way. Thankful it happened, it definitely brought us closer.
Well, I’m certainly thankful it brought us closer. And he has a new appreciation for life. Can’t argue with that.
