Confusion

I hate that feeling, of complete and utter confusion. The extended feeling that my thoughts would never again be orderly and complete. That's how I felt that night. I knew my husband and daughter had been on their way home from Sedona, and I knew they had been in an accident. I knew help was there because my daughter rushed me off the phone and said someone was there. I didn't call her back, I still don't know why. I decided I would find them, they had to be between home and Sedona, I'll just go find them. Makes no sense now. We drove half way to Sedona before I finally called a fireman friend (whom I always seem to call in lieu of 911, but that's a whole 'nother story). He immediately called me back with the location of the crash and asked what he could do to help. I had been in contact with my 16 year old daughter and she was home alone and scared to death. I asked if he could pick her up so she wouldn't have to be alone.
By this time I had distanced myself at least 20 minutes from the crash. Isaiah and I flipped a u-turn and headed back to town, praying aloud, and loudly, the whole way. I never did make it to the crash site. My fireman friend, Tim, had collected Molly and gone to the scene and picked up Kyleah. She had been asleep in the back of the minivan and sustained no injuries, praise the Lord! He would meet us at the hospital where they were planning on flying Dave to Flagstaff. After regaining consciousness he was acting strangely, and the local hospital was not equipped to deal with any possible brain injury. By this time it had become clear from Kyleah's description, that he had suffered a grand mal seizure. No one was sure if the crash caused the seizure or the seizure caused the crash.