Hi, my name is Steven and thank you for coming to this journal. I intend to use this journal as a place to keep track of Jenny’s recovery, her progress, her milestones but also include her struggles, her pain and her endurance in an unfiltered way. I hope to record everything I know that happened to her, but also record my own discoveries upon revisiting and reflecting over these painful memories. I have decided to name this place Jenny’s Journal even though she herself cannot write or respond to anything because she will always be the core of everything that is written. A further purpose of this place is to simply keep myself sane. It is an outlet for myself and the struggles I have to go through alongside Jenny after this tragic and sudden change in both our lives. I will be updating this journal with anything that comes to mind, including stories and pictures about life with Jenny from my perspective and what I learn in witnessing Jenny’s slow progress to recovering pieces of herself. I will be posting things here that aren’t suited for a broader audience, eventually including my visit to the vehicle collision site and the recovery process of certain procedures done to keep Jenny alive.
Entry 01 – Beginnings, endings and doors
Written on October 14, 2023
Tomorrow evening it will be exactly 2 weeks since the tragic accident that changed Jenny’s life forever. It has been simultaneously both the shortest and longest 2 weeks of my life. I can vividly recall that Sunday night of October 1st almost minute by minute.
Jenny was scheduled for an 11:00pm-7:00am shift at Arborg Personal Care Home – this is an hour and 20 minute drive north of Winnipeg. She’s done this shift many times and always leaves very early, especially now during Autumn because the sun has already set and there is an abundance of deer roaming the roads. She left at 9:07pm with an ETA to work for 10:27pm. When she arrives she always messages me or Andrea that she arrived safely.
As 11:00pm passes, I did not receive a message and thought “oh, it must be busy at Arborg tonight!”.
As 11:30pm passes, I thought “well this is unlike her, but I guess it can get really busy on the weekend”.
As 12:00am passes and we enter October 2nd, I now am very curious why she hasn’t messaged at all.
At 12:13am after a lot of mental back and forth I decide to call Arborg PCH and ask for Jenny. The lady who answered said she will look for her and call me right back. A few minutes later, I did get a call, and I answered the phone with my body almost already hearing a familiar voice saying “Sorry I didn’t message you, it got really busy here!” but instead I heard an unfamiliar voice who said something I’ll never forget.
“This is Constable Amanda from the RCMP. Jenny was involved in a head-on collision on the highway and was airlifted by STARS back to Winnipeg. You need to leave for the Health Sciences Center immediately.”
In reality it was about 4 seconds before I spoke again, but within those 4 seconds I recall my brain thought of countless scenarios which included:
Surely this is a mistake.
I just spoke to her not too long ago.
“Drive safe and message me when you get there!”
I was only just waving at her as she was waiting for the elevator.
I’ll hear her voice on the phone in just a second, right?
I cannot be living in this timeline.
This is a dream.
This is a joke.
I mumbled a bunch of words and ended up asking if I could have a police escort drive me there. She said she could not do that, and that I have to get their on my own.
So for the first time in my life I Uber’d somewhere. Mirwais was the name of my driver. At 12:38am he picked me up and when I got into his vehicle I told him what happened. I remember him driving, and all lights were green up until the left turn on William Ave when he finally hit a red light. There was no traffic anywhere. I remember saying to him “I’m going to regret if I never ask this, but could you please turn on this red light? If I make it there and if there’s any chance I miss her by even a few seconds I would hate myself for the rest of my life.” and he thought about it for a moment and responded “My brother, it will be okay, she will be okay.” I know he did not know that, and definitely he just didn’t want to illegally turn on that red light, but still, hearing someone say that to me was the most comfort I was going to have for the next 48 hours. When he dropped me off, it was 12:46am.
I was greeted by 5 fully suited Police standing outside the entrance door. I walked up and said I’m here to see someone who just was airlifted by STARS. One of the police said follow me, and I did. As we went inside and entered the entrance area I noticed there were around 15 people waiting in the rows of seats. One lady was constantly wailing, rocking back and forth with the other 14 people sitting silently, waiting for their turn. The police officer told the entrance employee that I was here to see the person who was just airlifted by STARS. The entrance employee asked for her name, and after saying Jenny Belmes, she spent what was about three minutes on the computer system only to say she could not find anyone by that name. I just stared at her blankly. The officer stared at her blankly. She then said wait a minute and went to the back area, where another 5 HSC employees were all lounging and at that distance I could not hear them.
Another minute passed.
Then another minute passed.
All I could think about at this point was that I had just asked my Uber driver to make an illegal left turn on a red light to save a few seconds.
And so another minute passed.
Another minute passed, but this time my brain registered a noise – the wailing woman from earlier.
I knew I had no power here, I could do nothing but wait while fully knowing I any second more meant I could have lost my chance to say goodbye to her.
Another minute passed.
Finally, I saw her start moving back to the entrance area. Once she came back she told the police officer some instructions. He said to follow him, and so I did. As we were walking to our destination, we talked a little bit and all he did was respond in a calming voice which looking back was probably what kept me from breaking down. Eventually, I was brought to the entrance door in front of the Surgical Intensive Care Unit and I was told to wait. I thanked the officer, he then gave me a soft pat on the shoulder and left.
1:03am. I reached the SICU doors at 1:03am. There was a lone, small green chair in the corner and this lone, small green chair would be my home for the next 5 hours. Those following 5 hours will forever be the longest 5 hours of my life. The first words I spoke during this time would not be heard by anyone, because there was no one there. Instead, there was only a door. A simple door that I would do anything, absolutely anything to get through but it was also the only door I could not pass – because this door was locked.
“Jenny, I made it.”
“I made it here.”
“Did I make it in time?”
“Please tell me I made it in time.”
“Are you there Jenny?”
“Please still be here.”
“Please still be here.”
“Please don’t leave.”
“Please don’t leave yet.”
This ends my first entry. If you can, please take a moment to cherish those you deeply care for and if you’re able to tell to them that, please do so. It’s been two weeks since I lost that chance. It’s been two weeks since I was able to tell her how much she meant to me. All I have now are these journals.
Jenny's Recovery 