The Boy Who Came Back From Heaven Part 2

"Yes, it is."

"Mrs. Malarkey, could you tell us if Alex is allergic to any medicines?"

For the second time, Beth asked an essential question, "Is my son going to live?" And for the second time the answer she received was maddeningly vague.

+ + +When Mommy told me Alex was hurt bad, I was scared out of my brains and didn't know what to do. I thought Mommy was lying when she said Alex might be dead because I didn't think that could be true.Aaron Malarkey, Alex's brother+ + + "It is serious, Mrs. Malarkey."

Soon after, Beth called her sister, Kris. She told her the little she knew of the situation. Kris is a registered nurse and a wonderfully supportive and empathetic person. After a brief conversation, Beth returned to her driving. She says she never drove over the speed limit during the entire drive, and I believe her. In fact, I have never seen her speed. That's Beth: a rock under pressure.

As Beth pulled into the parking lot at the hospital, she spotted a man wearing a MedFlight uniform. She quickly backed up, rolled down the window, and called out to him, "I have a six-year-old son who just arrived by helicopter. Were you on that flight?"

The man walked over to her. "Yes, ma'am. My name's Dave."

"Is my son all right? How bad was it?"

Looking into Beth's eyes, Dave said, "I have a question for you."

"Yes?" Beth said quizzically.

"Are you a Christian?"

"Yes, I am," Beth answered, wondering where this was going.

"Then listen to me," Dave continued, intently looking into Beth's eyes. "You're going to go in the trauma room and you're going to hear some horrible things. In fact, they're going to tell you your son's going to die. But I laid hands on your son and prayed for him in the name of Jesus. I'm telling you, he's not going to die.

"Now you definitely have a part to play in all this. The Lord is already beginning the healing, but when you go in there, fear will try to attack your thinking. I'm not telling you to go in there and argue. Be polite and listen; they know what they're talking about. But as true as all their information is, G.o.d's Word can change all that. I prayed for your boy in the name of Jesus, and he's not going to die. But if you go in there and agree with what they're saying and start speaking that, he will die. You'll negate what's been started by my praying for him. But if every time you get scared or hear a bad report, you thank the Lord for His healing, He will do His part. Have you got it?"

"Yes," Beth said, nodding her head earnestly. "I got it."

"Okay, then. I want you to repeat back to me what I just said you need to do."

Beth dutifully repeated back his instructions.

"Okay," said Dave with approval. "G.o.d bless you."

With that, Beth proceeded to the trauma unit.

Beth hurried into reception with our three youngest in tow. "Excuse me, my name is Beth Malarkey. My son William Alexander was just admitted. Can I see my son?"

"No, ma'am. I'm afraid that's not possible right now."

"If he is going to die, I want to say good-bye to him while he's alive. You have to let me see my son!"

Despite Beth's pleading, the answer remained a firm no. Sadness and fear turned to frustration and anger. "This is unbelievable! How can they not let me see my son?"

I arrived about ninety minutes later. Beth still had no information about Alex's injuries and had not heard anything concrete about his medical condition. Over the next few hours, we would be told repeatedly that the situation was serious and that the doctors were working on our son. We would not be able to see Alex or get any information about him until he was moved to the ICU.

+ + +Just before I began to speak to Beth, I was suddenly filled with boldness. I told her that the medical staff were going to tell her that Alex would die. However, I had prayed for Alex in the name of Jesus and was confident he would live. Her job was to continue in faith and to thank the Lord continually for healing Alex. I cautioned her that if she gave in to fear and began to say he was going to die, he would. I spent several minutes reminding her that G.o.d honors His Word and that Alex was being healed as we spoke. As I walked away, that boldness left and I thought to myself, What did I do? I'm in trouble now. What did I do? I'm in trouble now. However, I didn't speak anything contrary to Alex's being healed; I just continued to thank the Lord. However, I didn't speak anything contrary to Alex's being healed; I just continued to thank the Lord.

Dave Knopp, paramedic

No Condemnation When I walked into the hospital, a group of forty people had already gathered to pray and to support us. Some were family members; others were friends from our former and current church families; still others we didn't even know. Everyone was eager to see that I was okay, at least physically. But when I entered the ICU waiting room, there was only one face I could see in the crowd.

When Beth's eyes met mine, I was flooded again with memories of the hundreds of times she had told me to drive more carefully, to slow down, to pay attention to the road rather than the CD player or the radio. And what about the many times I'd played in the backyard or the family room with Alex and Aaron, laughing and getting crazier by the minute, while Beth stood in the background and asked me if we were being careful? "Just relax," I would always tell her. "Everything's under control. Don't be so overprotective." I was certain these were her thoughts as well.

As I looked into her face, feelings of relief, comfort, grief, and deepest sadness all jumbled together. Renewed waves of shame washed over my tortured heart. She embraced me warmly and lovingly, but deep down I felt I didn't deserve it.

"Beth! Is Alex alive?"

"I think so. I think he's holding on, but I haven't seen him, and they've told me next to nothing."

In that instant the pain squeezed my heart so relentlessly that I collapsed into Beth's arms.

"Oh, Beth," I sobbed as I clung to her for mercy, "please forgive me. Please forgive me! I'm so sorry. I've torn our family apart."

Sobs convulsed my body as grief washed over me in a tide that threatened never to ebb. For a moment, I dared to look into Beth's eyes, bracing myself to take in the condemnation I expected to find. But no. When I looked into her dark eyes, I found only mercy. Beth held me close, covering me with kindness, understanding, and love. No anger, no bitterness, only love.

"Kevin, this could have happened to anyone. It was an accident. Of course you blame yourself. That's just human nature. But when things calm down, you'll realize it's not true. Honey, don't condemn yourself. G.o.d won't, and neither will anyone else."

I wasn't sure she was right about any of this, but I felt certain she was being sincere. If Beth was nursing any bitterness or blame toward me for what had happened, I would have been able to sense it in her voice and body language. Her acceptance was a lifeline I desperately needed in that moment.

"So put all that out of your mind," she said. "All I want to know is whether you're all right. Are you sure you don't have any injuries?"

"I'm fine. In fact, I'm a lot better after seeing you. Thanks."

Separate paths had brought Alex, Beth, and me together at the hospital. Yet all we knew was that Alex was barely alive and could slip away at any moment...

From AlexI Watch from the CeilingFor he will conceal me there when troubles come; he will hide me in his sanctuary. He will place me out of reach on a high rock.Psalm 27:5When we got to the hospital, I was watching everything that happened from the corner of the emergency room, near the ceiling. Jesus was standing there beside me.I was not afraid. I felt safe.The doctors were very busy, working on my body, which by this time was kind of blue. The doctors talked a lot about me, and they didn't have much good to say. They all thought I wouldn't make it. One doctor did say, "He might come back." Mostly though the medical workers were sad and talked a lot about me not surviving.While everyone was talking about my not living, Jesus said to me that I would survive the accident. He also told me I would breathe on my own after some time had pa.s.sed.Then I looked down, and I watched as they attached a steel bolt to my head and said that it was going to hurt. (Iheard later that this thing was for measuring the pressure in my brain.) Then they started putting something down my throat, and Jesus moved me into Heaven.Jesus didn't want me to watch what they did because He didn't want me to remember it later and be scared.I saw one hundred and fifty pure, white angels with fantastic wings who were all calling my name. If you didn't know they were friendly, they would be really scary. After a while, they all said, "Alex, go back." I did go, but Jesus went with me and held me during my time in the emergency room.

Chapter 3

72 Hours

The doctors had spoken ... and now we waited on G.o.d.

At last a medical a.s.sistant led Beth and me to a small conference room. The doctor wanted to speak with us privately. It seemed like hours before he arrived. After we exchanged a few courtesies, he pulled out an X-ray of the injured area at the base of Alex's skull. No medical knowledge was needed to understand the hideous truth the darkened image revealed. Something in me could notaccept that this was a picture of Alex's spine. Instinctively, I glanced at the bottom left corner of the sheet: WILLIAM ALEXANDER MALARKEY WILLIAM ALEXANDER MALARKEY. Those three words were so final, so unambiguous. Anythoughts that the situation might not be all that bad vanished.

The doctor moved across the room to a whiteboard. He sketched a normal spinal column and next to it a picture of Alex's spine. It was easy to see what was wrong. The first vertebra below his skull had been pulled apart from the second and stood at a forty-five-degree angle.

Turning to us, the doctor began, "I must be frank with you. Alex's situation is extremely serious. Injuries involving this spinal alignment virtually always result in death. In point of fact, Alex is presently being kept alive by artificial means. He does have a youthful const.i.tution in his favor, but if he survives, the nature of these injuries will lead to certain outcomes, and it's best to be realistic about them. Given the severity and height of the injury-which is to say its proximity to the base of the brain stem and the trauma sustained by the cerebral cortex-should Alex survive, normal brain function cannot be reasonably expected. Alex will never breathe on his own, and below the neck he will not move on his own. This injury will preclude Alex from swallowing food. He is presently receiving fluids intravenously, but if he survives, we will have to install a gastronomy tube, or G-tube, so he can receive nutrition directly into his stomach. And, finally, if he does survive, he will never be able to speak. I understand these are difficult things to hear. Truly I am sorry."

G-tube, no normal brain function, paralyzed-my eyes fell to the floor, fixed in stunned disbelief. It was all so overwhelming it would have to be sifted through piece by piece, but the doctor had spoken. We would have to deal with it. The information was so horrific and the scale of it so ma.s.sive that my mind went into numbed acceptance. I'd think more coherently about the details later.

Beth's experience, informed by Dave in the parking lot, was completely different. She wasn't having any of it. I was still looking at the floor when she spoke. Looking directly into the doctor's eyes, she confidently spoke three simple words: "You are wrong."

I inhaled sharply, thoroughly embarra.s.sed. This doctor was the head of a team of top-notch surgeons, all of whom had reviewed Alex's case. We were under the care of one of the best children's trauma units in the country. Who was she to question them? I placed a hand on her arm, trying to get her to stop talking. She needed to sit back and accept reality, as I was doing. Beth pulled away from my touch. She had no intention of backing down.

+ + +Trying to take in the scope of Alex's injury was overwhelming. Like looking over the rail at the Grand Canyon, your mind is incapable of grasping the enormity of what you see.It wasn't explained to us until much later why, medically speaking, it was so unlikely that Alex would survive. He had suffered an internal decapitation-his skull was detached from his spinal column. Skin, muscle, and ligaments were holding his head on his body, but his spinal cord tendon sheath was severed.Months later we received an X-ray from a medical professional taken more than an hour after the car accident. The X-ray was of the bottom portion of Alex's skull and the top portion of his spinal cord. The X-ray clearly reveals Alex's vertebrae detached from his head.Not only was there no mention of this situation to either my wife or me, but there has never been a medical procedure to reattach his skull to his spinal column.

Kevin Malarkey

"Alex is going to be fine. His health will be fully restored, and his story is going to have a national impact, bringing hope to thousands of people."

Okay, I told myself, she is totally losing it she is totally losing it. I looked at the doctor, confident of what he was thinking, although I have to hand it to him-he listened to Beth with an earnest concern, nodding his head sympathetically. There was not one thought in my mind about Alex helping others. I just wanted my boy to be okay. I wanted my own guilt to dissipate. I wanted my son to regain consciousness long enough for me to ask his forgiveness-a conversation I had already played over in my mind a thousand times since the accident a few hours earlier.

But Beth was just getting started.

"I know you don't believe me, but he is is going to get better, and I mean completely healthy." going to get better, and I mean completely healthy."

I sat back, helpless to stop the drama. The good doctor continued to nod respectfully. I was sure I could read his mind: Another poor woman in the grips of an irrational outburst brought on by shocking news she doesn't want to be true ... seen it thousands of times. It's an opportunity for me to be gracious. Another poor woman in the grips of an irrational outburst brought on by shocking news she doesn't want to be true ... seen it thousands of times. It's an opportunity for me to be gracious.

But I also knew the doctor was wrong, at least about Beth. She never becomes a refugee from reality in a crisis. She's calm and clinical under the most intense pressure. Her words to the doctor were a confident proclamation, not mindless wishful thinking. It was as if she knew something the rest of us hadn't been told. I certainly couldn't see whatever miraculous future she had in view. All I could see was the X-ray and the horrendous prognosis that accompaniedit.

"Just wait and see. It will be a medical phenomenon. Alex's story will touch people all across this nation. It will give hope to people who have lost all hope."

Whatever was in her, it wasn't in me. The doctor finished listening and politely excused himself.

What was happening now seemed so surreal. Memories emerged from deep places. I had written a poem for Alex months before he was born, parts of which seemed strangely relevant now: Precious ChildThere is so much I yearn toTell youTo teach youTo experience with youFor now, let me share some of my sorrowsYou will be exposed to a worldFar different than the womb...Blessed childWhat I long to teach you mostIs where you come fromAnd where you might return...

Beth and I trusted G.o.d and believed, even before Alex was born, that G.o.d had a special life planned for him. Now, in the hush of the hospital, I had to face the end of those plans, at least on earth.

When we returned to the waiting room, even more people had gathered. Some were talking and others were praying. We shared the news we had received from the doctors, and then all the people in the room held hands and began to pray. Many audible prayers were brought to the throne of G.o.d in this moment.

In fact, over those first dark days, we turned to G.o.d again and again. I don't remember my own prayers or most of the others. But there was one prayer that pierced my darkness the day after the accident.

Our minister, Pastor Brown, had waited for everyone else to pray, and then, following a few moments of silence, he lifted up his voice: "Oh Lord, we know that Alex is with You, even now. The doctors have spoken. And now, Lord, we await Your word on thematter."

Simple and powerful. Yes, what did G.o.d have to say on the matter of Alex? Pastor Brown's prayer was a great comfort. Of course, nothing would happen outside of G.o.d's supervision. I needed to hang on to that truth. And I did-for a short time.

As Beth and I waited to see Alex that first day, in my mind, I was back at the day of Alex's birth. Another hospital, a day of joy. I was beside Beth, but s.h.i.+elding my eyes from the cesarean surgery-I didn't want to pa.s.s out. And then the indescribable moment when he entered our world. ... The nurse cut the cord, looked over to me, and said, "Would you like to hold William Alexander?"

"Is that his name?"

Beth looked up at me. "Uh, Kevin, that's the name we chose in case we had a boy-remember?" She smiled.

"Oh yeah, that's right," I agreed. "William Alexander, after my dad."

My father, Dr. William Malarkey, an endocrinologist and director of the Clinical Research Center at Ohio State University, was off lecturing somewhere in Europe. Had anyone notified him about the accident? As I sat in the waiting room, surrounded by praying friends and family, anew set of questions came at me like daggers.

If Alex dies, will I go to jail for vehicular homicide?

Did I hurt the people in the other car?

+ + +I was speaking at a medical conference in Europe when the accident occurred. In fact, I was taking pictures of a boy who was a quadriplegic with a respirator in a wheelchair at a park in Paris. At the same time, thousands of miles away in Ohio, unknown to me, my grandson was on a MedFlight and would face a similar outcome. Every time I see a picture of theEiffel Tower, I am reminded that I had just looked at its lighted outlinewhen I received the phone call about the accident.

Dr. William Malarkey, Kevin's father

Are we going to lose our house?

Is Beth thinking, "I knew this would happen with Kevin because of all the chances he takes. If he had listened to me, none of this would have happened"?

Is everyone here and at the accident just being kind but really thinking what a rotten person I am-what a pathetic father Alex has?

That first day, fear, doubt, and self-loathing slid in and out of my mind-reasonable, under the circ.u.mstances, but also pointless and destructive. I knew these thoughts didn't come from G.o.d-they were directly from my adversary, the devil. But knowing the truth about these things wasn't enough. I was almost overcome by them. I had to fight against them. I had to reject the false voice and cling to the truth. I began holding on to the only hope I had: G.o.d loves me. G.o.d loves Alex. G.o.d loves Beth and our other children G.o.d loves me. G.o.d loves Alex. G.o.d loves Beth and our other children. G.o.d's peace was there, available for me, but I had to receive it by rejecting the Accuser and listening to the Voice of Truth. I I will will listen to the Voice of Truth. listen to the Voice of Truth.

Another memory came to me ... a happy one. Alex was just a few days old, and to get him off to a proper start, I held him up to see Ohio Stadium.

"Hey, buddy," I said, holding him face out, "that's where the Buckeyes play football!"

Yes, I had planned this initiation rite well in advance. On check-in to the birthing center, just before Alex's delivery, I had managed to secure the hospital room that afforded the best view of the stadium. Now, sitting in the hospital waiting room, I wondered, Why am I thinking about this now? Why am I thinking about this now?