11-22-01 - 11:18 a.m.

In Kellie's home, when we were growing up, before I was a part of her family, they had a tradition. Every Thanksgiving, each of them would have to write down three things for which they were thankful, why they cherished those things, and then share them at the dinner table. They never ate turkey and stuffing and cranberry sauce on Thanksgiving either. Sharon called the practice "prosaic" and saw no reason for practicing gluttony for a day and wasting food and then feeling guilty afterwards as the belts are loosened.

Really, though, she just doesn't like doing dishes.

So they never had a turkey dinner on Thanksgiving. It was always some kind of pre-packaged fast food deal. Last year it was TV dinners in front of the Sony watching The Nightmare Before Christmas, the year before, Taco Bell drive-thru.

I don't know what they'll be eating today, but I do know one thing I'm thankul for:

Modern medicine.

Before you make a face (unless you already have), let me explain why I missed my second Britney concert last night, and why I'm thrilled I did.

Bryan and I were in our seats, Britney was on stage performing "Overprotected." I felt my cell phone buzzing in my pocket so I reached down, grabbed it, answered it. My caller-ID had said it was Chad, but I couldn't hear a word he was saying, so I yelled, "I WILL CALL YOU BACK!" and hung up, putting my phone back in my pocket.

It buzzed again less than two minutes later. I checked it. Chad had sent me a text message, reading: "you need to come home right now. rob might die."

I ran out of the arena and into a bathroom, where it was quiet enough to hold a loud conversation. I called him and asked what was going on, told him I was in Los Angeles and couldn't make it home for at least two or so hours. He said to meet him at a hospital, gave me its address, and I went back in, grabbed Bryan, and explained what little I knew as we ran back to our car, out of the Staples Center, down the street, into the SUV, in and out of LA traffic, and back down to San Diego. I wasn't checking the speedometer because I didn't give a damn how fast I was going.

I left Bryan to park the car and rushed in, scantily clad in my homemade Britney Spears concert outfit (I made this shirt) and in the emergency room, I found Kellie, Chad, Chris, Sharon, George, Carrie, and Scarlett.

Kellie and Chad were crying and they came up to me and hugged me. Sharon patted my hair. I asked what was going on.

Chad said that he, Rob, and some other guys from their fraternity had gone out to the desert to "goof off" and ride around on one frat guy's ATV. Rob took a turn on it but lost control, hit a rock, and went flying head-first into it. The rock, I mean.

Rob passed out, fractured a part of his skull, cracked a rib, broke both his wrists, and tore the skin from his nose. Chad said his nose skin looked as though he had unsnapped it from the bridge, and it was dangling at the nostrils. Someone there called 9-11, and when the paramedics came, they kept the nose skin wet with sterile water so it could be successfully reattached, put him carefully onto a stretcher, and rushed him to a hospital.

Now, he was undergoing tests to see how much head trauma he had undergone, being casted, and having his nose reattached. Part of his head might have to be shaved, a plate would have to be put in his wrist, and he was likely to be in excruciating pain, assuming he survived.

After what seemed like days, a doctor came out and asked Chad if Rob had been wearing a helmet. Chad said that yes, he had. The doctor then said, "Then that's what saved his life."

I asked, "Saved his life? As in, he's going to live?"

The doctor pulled over a chair, reviewed her notes, and reported that, miraculously, his brain was virtually unharmed, though his skull would take some time to heal. He wouldn't be needing a plate there, though. His wrists and nose had become her biggest concern after seeing that his head would be okay. A plastic surgeon might be needed for reconstructive surgery to hide the scar the stitches in his nose would leave. But he would live, and we could see him in a little bit, no more than two at a time.

Chad and I went in first. Rob was conscious but clearly in pain, hooked up to an IV, lying awkwardly to relieve tension in his ribcage, his wrists elevated and casted, his skull wrapped and his nose bandaged, but his breathing audible and his smile present.

"I'm glad you're here," he said to Chad and me, though I think more to me than Chad.

"I'm glad you're here," I said.

We talked for a few minutes, but then I started coughing again. I told him I didn't want to get him sick and would be back later to see him again.

I figured that since I was in a hospital I might as well see a doctor for my illness. I was told I have pneumonia (big surprise), given a steroid inhaler, made to breathe pure oxygen for a while, reprimaded for smoking, and sent on my way.

Then I went out and cried on Sharon's shoulder. Last night was such a huge mess of emotions (terror, confusion, fury, hope, apprehension, relief, joy) that I was just completely exhausted. I came home and fell asleep for a while, but not long.

Rob won't be in the hospital long, maybe he'll even be allowed to come home tomorrow. He's actually okay, considering how much worse it could have been. His doctor honestly believed he might die, but was pleasantly surprised, as were the rest of us.

So today I'm thankful for modern medicine, for whichever guy in Rob's fraternity it was that made him wear a helmet, for the paramedics who kept his nose wet, and for Interstate 5, for not being crowded so I could floor it the entire way home. I wasn't watching the speedometer but Bryan was. He told me he'd never been in a car doing 110 before.

I almost lost Kellie to a car accident in 1998, and almost lost Rob last night. I couldn't survive without either of them. I'm thankful they're here, and I'm thankful I'm here to be with them, and I'm realizing just how lucky I am. I always almost lose people I'm close to.

I wonder if things will be different now. When Kellie left the hospital and finished her physical therapy (she shattered her femur in a wreck), she had grown up some. She's bubbly as hell, but after that, she really grew up as a person. She became more patient, more understanding, and now cherishes human life more than anyone I know. I wonder what Rob will think.

Leif invited me to spend Thanksgiving with his family tonight. Funny, I had forgotten all about him...

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