Mountains to Climb

Seven years ago, my life changed forever. I have spent the last few years trying to find the best way to share this story in its entirety. Even though most of you reading this have either heard about it or listened to me tell it first hand, I have always left out the major details that I hold dear and sacred. Many instances in this story are miraculous and there is really no other way to explain them. Some I have shared during church meetings and most I have shared with my family, but never in written form.

April 24, 2012 started out as a regular spring day and turned into an adventure that I never expected to go on. No one really knows what happened that day up the canyon, myself included. Maybe that’s what makes this story so meaningful. I hope in some way this story might touch your life the same way it has changed mine.

Tuesday, April 24th, 2012

I had just returned home from serving a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons). I was accepted to Brigham Young University, was going to receive a scholarship to be on the cheerleading squad, and my summer job of teaching cheerleading camps with UCA was lined up. I honestly had everything I could have asked for. Life felt like a new adventure and I was ready to see what would happen next.

10:15 am. I got a text from my friend Kaity that said, “You ready to conquer some mountains?!” My standard reply to anything that makes me uncomfortable was, “Umm…haha”, “I don’t know if I will conquer, but fall my way up some.” Little did I know I was foreshadowing the next few hours of my life.

For the first time in my life I was going rock climbing. Kaity and two other friends were pretty avid climbers and invited me to join. Early that afternoon we made our way up American Fork Canyon and stopped at Little Mill Campground. Our plan was to climb Division Wall, a popular climbing spot in the area. I was nervous. I don’t like to do things I am not good at, but my friends were a solid support and never let me back down from trying something new, so I didn’t. We spent the afternoon climbing and enjoying the outdoors. To my success, I climbed a 5.9+ graded slab of rock and made it to the top.

 

The Hike

After a few hours of rock climbing we decided to go on a hike above the cliffs where we were climbing. We hiked up some different paths along the mountainside which were covered in loose rocks. The hike began to get steep and ironically we began talking about and signing the song “Free Fallin'” by John Mayer. Kaity said she loved being in nature because it reminded her of God and it was a “peaceful place.” We both tried to enjoy the peace of nature that day, but there was a construction crew working on the road, we had no cell phone service so we couldn’t play music, and other hikers were all over the mountain. We did our best to ignore the pounding of the pavement and the other hikers so we started to go off the path and explore different parts of the mountain.

We were getting higher up and ready to go back to meet the rest of our friends when I suggested that “we should find another way down.” I was leading the way and didn’t want to go back the way we came. We continued finding different paths and got to a divide in the mountain where we couldn’t see what was around the corner. I stopped and said, “Kaity, wait here for a second. I am going to make sure it’s safe first.” Kaity initally thought that it was pointless for me to go alone and went to follow me. As she took a step toward the divide, a voice inside her told her to “stop!” and to trust me. So she stepped back against the mountainside and waited.

The Fall

What happened next can only be said in Kaity’s words. I have no memory of the days prior to April 24th till about one month after. She’s the last person to see me walking around the corner and the only person to see me roll and fall down to what was supposed to be the end of my adventure….

Not 15 seconds later I saw you rolling down the bed of rocks and eventually over the cliff. I yelled your name a couple of times, just hoping I’d get a response. My first instinct was to go down the way you went, but I found myself directed the way we had originally come. I ran. I ran as fast as I could, but I wasn’t afraid. I thought to myself for a second, “I pray he doesn’t break his neck,” and in an instant, the thought was gone. You were going to be okay.

As I ran I yelled for Dan (our friend who was climbing with us), “Dan! Dan!! Cameron fell off the mountain! Dan!!!” He and our friends had just finished their climb. [We] ran over to where you were. Dan passed me and yelled back, “Kaity, it is not as bad as it looks.” “Oh gee, thanks Dan… I’ll be sure to take that into consideration.” I walked up to see you laying face down on a bed of rocks. You only had one shoe on, you had blood all over your hands, your back was all scraped up, your legs were convulsing; however, you were breathing and that made me happy. I knelt down beside you and just held your arm.

[Our friends] placed [their] hands on your head and gave you a blessing. In the blessing you were promised that you would be healed and all would be well. I wish I could remember the rest, but that’s all that seemed to stick. If anything, it gave me a greater sense of peace. God was in control. I knew it. You were going to be okay.

What caused my initial fall down the mountain and off the cliff? I don’t know. No one does. It’s is something I wish I knew, but will probably never know. When I began to fall down the mountain I rolled 25 feet down the loose rocks until I hit the edge of the cliff. Once I hit the edge, I dropped 75 feet from the top off the cliff to the rocky bottom where there were two sharp boulders at the base. I fell directly between the two rocks and continued to roll another 200 feet down the mountainside.  If I had fallen a few feet to the right or left, my story may have ended a little differently.

Little Ironies and Miracles

When Kaity ran back to where our group of friends were and told them what had happened , they all ran over to the other side of the cliffs where I ended up. Kaity tried to call 911, but just as there was no service to play music on our hike, there was no service for Kaity to call for help. However, there were construction workers nearby and they had radios. Kaity ran over to the men and they radioed for Search and Rescue and Flight for Life. The same men who we were complaining about interrupting our peaceful time in nature were now the men who were helping to save my life.

After help was called, a man named Jeff walked over to where I was lying. He had been rock climbing on the other side of the canyon, saw me fall, and ran over as soon as he could. He was an ICU nurse and began to care for me from that point on. I was responsive to his requests- wiggling my fingers, blinking my eyes, but no talking. Kaity later said, “It was a miracle sent from God. You were being watched over.”

Lone Peak Search and Rescue arrived shortly after and carried me off the mountain. The Flight for Life helicopter had landed in the canyon and was waiting for about a mile down the road. I was then flown to the Intermountain Medical Center in Murray, UT.

The Phone Call

The Utah County Sheriff’s Department had to call my parents and tell them the news. My parents had no idea that I had been rock climbing or hiking that day. The Sheriff spoke to my dad on the phone and let him know I had been in a hiking accident and was being transported to the hospital. My dad couldn’t believe what was being said and asked if I was alive or okay or even the status of my condition. The officers only response was, “Good Luck.”

My dad was immediately angry at the officers, the situation, and at God. After the call he looked up and began to yell at God and name off all of the bad things our family had been through in our lives. My brother was born sick, my sister passed away, our family had financial problems, and other terrible dilemmas were all things my family had to endure.  My dad wasn’t about to let God take me away too. He later shared that after his outburst he had immediately felt a sense of calm fall over him and he knew I would be okay and everything would work out.

My dad called my mom at school and went to pick her up on the way to the hospital and called all of my brothers. Each of them immediately dropped what they were doing and came straight to the hospital. My second brother Chase worked at IMC at the time and he was already at the hospital for work, but couldn’t get in to see me. My brother Colin lived in Los Angeles and when he heard the news he told my dad he was on the next flight to come home. My dad told him to wait and let them see what condition I was in, but he responded with, “Dad! My little brother could be dying right now, I’m coming home.”

My Condition

Upon arrival at the hospital my condition was critical. My friend Collin, who arrived before anyone else, was permitted to see me first. He described his time with me in these words, “[I was able] to hold Cameron’s hand as he shook, writhed in pain, and bled from more open wounds than I have or will see on one person in my life.” My mom said that when she walked in to see me, she couldn’t recognize who I was. My chin was the size of a softball, I was bleeding all over from the cuts and scrapes, and was unresponsive to almost anything or anyone. She left the room crying, but as she walked out she immediately heard a voice say, “He’s your son. He needs you!” She immediately turned around and walked back into the room and stayed by my side.

The nurse practitioner and doctors soon visited with my family and told them the nature of condition. My brain was bleeding and I had a lot of exterior swelling around my skull. They said the next 24-48 hours would determine a lot in regards to brain function and memory loss. I had just received a CAT scan and they would perform another one in the next four hours. The membrane that divides the two sides of my brain had shifted and was crooked. My lungs were badly bruised and deflating, putting me at major risk for pneumonia. I had a broken hand and a compound fracture in my foot that needed surgery because without it, I was at major risk for infection. Surgery however was not an option because of my brain’s condition. They considered drilling into my skull to relieve the pressure, but decided to wait and see what would happen in the next few hours.  It was still unclear to the doctors whether I would ever leave the hospital alive, but my family and friends surrounded my bedside with hope sand faith. Faith that I would be healed and all would be well in my life… we just had to wait and see.

A Father’s Blessing

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) we believe that through proper authority, you can receive a blessing by someone who is worthy and holds the priesthood. One of privileges of having a father who is a worthy priesthood holder is that in times like this, he could bestow a blessing on me. He has done this many times throughout my life, but this would be the most important one.

I do not know or remember what my dad said in the blessing to me, but my friend Collin, who was in the room during the blessing, wrote down some of his thoughts and feelings about it:

I walked into a room full of Cameron’s family and those who were considered family. While I felt very much like the outsider I was, I still felt an incredible wave of warmth. Lowell (Cameron’s dad) didn’t know me. He had no reason to trust me, and no matter how bad he was hurting, he had faith in the priesthood and conceded to let me stand alongside him as he invoked the powers of heaven to give Cameron the blessing that his Father in Heaven wanted him to have.

Lowell Larsen, I imagine, was as broken as he had ever been. It’s interesting to see how the Lord chooses to bring His children to the depths of humility. Lowell had no control over the situation, and he knew it. The Bishop anointed Cameron’s head with oil and performed the anointing ordinance before the three of us gathered around Cameron’s lifeless form, placed our hands upon his head, and with Lowell acting as voice, I felt my Father in Heaven not only speaking to Cameron, but to me, to Lowell, to Pam (Cameron’s mom), and to everyone in that crowded confined hospital room.

I will never be able to recall verbatim what was said in that blessing, but I remember exactly how I felt. I felt the presence of angels in that hospital room. And I knew they were there to comfort Cameron’s family so much more than they were there to comfort him. Cameron’s family needed to hear what was said through the mouth of his father. As Lowell spoke, I felt as if arms were enveloping me, testifying to me that what was being said was from God. I knew it was true, as did everybody in that room. 

Cameron was promised that his Heavenly Father would continue to hold him in His arms as he continued to put his faith in the One who is bound by faith and obedience. In the blessing, Cameron’s mother was mentioned and the role she had and would play in his life and recovery. The suffering that Pam had to endure during the births, deaths, complications, and subsequent raising of her children emotionally, physically, and mentally would continue in Cameron’s recovery. Her desire to help Cameron bear his burdens would be realized and they would walk the path together.

I know that Christ can take our burdens off our shoulders, and after being in that room and feeling that love, I know that if any of them were able, they would take all of Cameron’s pain and anguish and suffer in his place. I will never forget how I felt.

I know that God will love us and desire our return no matter what and we cannot feel it unless we want to. And every day He gives us more reasons to turn to Him and use the Atonement that His Son has worked out. We can behold His glory and be encircled about eternally in the arms of His love… and it feels so good.

The Next 10 Days

After the blessing, unrealistic miracles began to happen. Around 10:45pm that night I received the results from my CAT scan and the swelling on my brain had gone down. This meant they were able to perform surgery on my foot and start tending  to my other injuries as needed. The foot surgery was successful and no pins were needed to hold the fractured bones. My lungs began to inflate and no brain surgery was needed. Recovery seemed possible.

The next two days of recovery showed very little signs of progress. I couldn’t talk and after the second day no visitors were allowed because they were inhibiting my recovery. On day three I was moved out of the ICU to the Rehabilitation Floor because my scans showed significant decrease in swelling, no more brain bleeds, and my lungs were looking better. However, this is when they discovered that my teeth were broken and missing! For three days now I had been moaning and not talking, so when I finally muttered something about my mouth, the nurse checked my teeth to find my front top two teeth and one front bottom tooth broken with the nerves hanging there. At this point the doctors and nurses had told my parents that we would be in here for the “long-haul”, about two months in the hospital.

By day three I was asking for people to visit and making phone calls. I wasn’t talking much and couldn’t really carry conversations, but I did my best. I wanted to make sure I could still teach cheer camps that summer with UCA, that I wasn’t going to lose my scholarship to BYU, and to just say hi to friends. The nurse came in later that day and told my family that I was healing well and would most likely go home in 7-10 days. By miracle a two month recovery turned into 10 days.

News spread fast about the accident and within a day or two friends from around the country were calling, sending flowers, praying, and offering any form of support. The next week I became more and more cognitive and began having full conversations. By miracle, at the end of my 10 day stay on the 12th floor, I was permitted to go home. Blessings and miracles were seen in that hospital room- there isn’t a time that I drive by IMC in Murray and not look up at the big building and think about me being there.

Recovery

When I came home I still could not remember anything. I often repeated myself and showed no signs of emotion, except anger. My first memory of this whole experience was from one of the first mornings I was home. I woke up and stared at myself in the mirror from my bed. I remember looking at my reflection and wondering,  “Why my body hurt so bad? This can’t be real life, it must be a dream.” Then I went back to sleep and repeated this same thing three times. Finally, after the third time, I came to the conclusion that this is how life was going to be, so I decided to get up.

I had major complications and was sent to see physical, occupational, and speech therapists twice per week and even had to visit an oncologist because my blood cell levels were concerning. Life was an unending trip to the doctors. I couldn’t drive, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat regularly, and I couldn’t feel any emotion other than anger. I don’t know how anyone, especially my mom dealt with me, but I am forever grateful to her always being by my side, even after 6 years,

Angels

The most sacred and special part of this story has nothing to do with my recovery or really anything to do with me. I have never shared this outside of a church setting or so publicly. I hope you can understand and respect what I am about to share.

It was Mother’s Day. I finally began to remember things that I did during the day and was holding conversations. I came to the realization that something was wrong and for the first time in my life, I had no control over what was happening to me. It hurt. I was scared and felt alone, even with my family and friends constantly surrounding me, I felt completely helpless. How could something so terrible happen to me? I tried to recall things that had happened and was asking a lot of questions.  I was confused and upset and nothing could help me come to terms with the situation. Then my dad shared a story from the hospital that changed my outlook on everything.

My dad asked, “Do you remember what you told me when you were still in the hospital?” My response was simple, “Dad, I don’t remember anything!” My sarcasm quickly turned when he began to retell my own story to me.

When we were in the hospital room alone the other day, were talking and you stopped and turned to me and said, “Dad, do you want to know why I didn’t die when I fell off the cliff?” I answered and told you to tell me how you survived. You said, “It’s because Jenna caught me– that’s why I didn’t die.”

For those that do not know my family, Jenna is my sister. She was born premature and lived for a few hours before she left our family. She is older than me and so I never knew her in this life, but I have always felt a strong connection with her. I looked forward to every holiday that we went to see her grave and went multiple times alone just to be with her. I never talk about my family without mentioning her because even though she is gone from us now, she is very much apart of our family.

Immediately after my dad shared this story, I began to cry. I immediately knew it was true. Although I do not remember saying this or even the conversation with my dad- deep down inside, I knew it was and still know it’s true. My sister saved my life that day on the mountain. I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but she did. I am forever grateful for her being my guardian angel that day and forever.

Strength Is Not Something You Have, It’s Something You Find

Everyday for the last 6 years I have thought about my accident.   Whether someone has brought it up, I looked at my scars in the mirror, or I drove past IMC hospital, there is always a reminder about what happened to me. However, as time goes on, I have learned that it isn’t that this happened TO me, but it happened FOR me.

I’ve been tested, tried, and literally fallen off a mountain. Life isn’t fair, but it’s not meant to be. It’s meant to build us up and help us realize our limitless potential to grow and become better each and every day. Sometimes we have set backs, and that’s okay. Because after all, none of us are ever really alone, even at the bottom of a cliff.