A letter to my hero

Dear Dr. Robinette,
Today my youngest son turns 21.  You met Mason when he was 4, just days before his 5th birthday.  He fell in the garage with his hands inside of his shirt.  He broke his skull and severed the artery behind his temple. At the time I didn't know that, all I knew was that when he fell, he cried, I ran to him but couldn't see anything wrong.  I talked to him, tried to soothe him and picked him up and carried him in the house.  He wouldn't stop crying.  I finally got very scared and called 911, about that same time I checked his pupils, one was very large one was very small.  I knew there was a big problem.  We lived in the country, it was faster for us to drive him to the hospital, so we did, very fast.  In the meantime, the hospital called you.  You were having a nice  Friday night dinner date with your wife at a Thai restaurant.  You didn't hesitate, told your wife she would have to take a cab, and you left.  You were at the hospital before we were.  We were rushed in the E.R.  as the nurse cut the clothing from my son, she told us to call our pastor if we had one.
Then she said, "Kiss him now, it might be your last chance."
They took him from my arms and put him in your hands.
You operated on him for more than 2 hours.  We sat, numb, and waited.  Our pastor came and prayed with us and waited and waited.
When the surgery was over, Mason's pediatrician came out to tell us about the surgery.  He told us you saved Mason.  He was alive, but he might have to learn to talk again, he might have to learn to walk and swallow again.  I was angry, so angry.  I told our doctor to shut up, Mason would be fine.  He was very patient with me.  I was angry at the nurses, I told them Mason was cold and needed his blankie, even thought the ICU room was a very warm temperature to keep his body temperature up.  They were very patient with me.  I hope I was not angry with you.  I was really just scared, so scared and that was the only way I could deal with this situation I had no control over.
In the morning, Mason woke up.  You asked him his name.  He looked at you and then looked at me.
"What's your name, honey?" I asked.
"Mom, I Mason." you said in your little 4 year old voice, wondering why I would ask such a question when I knew his name.
You had given me my son back.

Thank you, for leaving your wife on a Friday evening to come to the aid of my 4 year old. Thank you to your wife for the patience and understanding to let you go quickly.  Thank you for your patience with me, and my the fear, anger, and sorrow I was so overwhelmed with.  Thank you for using your skill in such a way that gave me my son back, with nothing more than a large scar that circles one side of his head.  He didn't have to learn to talk again or walk again, you saved all that for him.  Thank you for giving me the chance to be his mommy and live through the first day of Kindergarten with him, and the terrible middle school attitude, braces, the first girlfriend break-up and high school graduation.
Today, my youngest son turns 21.  Thank you for giving his life back to him.  Words will never be enough.
Mason's grateful mom

May 23, 2012