Pivotal Moments: Light, Hope, and Healing for All

By Alicia Banta

After a downhill ski accident and six major surgeries, my leg is forever changed, but more importantly, my soul is forever changed. The lessons God has taught me along the way are life changing and offer light, hope, and healing for all, covering a wide variety of topics like finding joy within, the power of our minds, forgiveness, love, overcoming hardships, strengthening marriage and families, and applying Christ's healing grace. If you are searching for more peace, joy, and meaning in your life, then let this book touch your life like it has many others.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alicia Banta
• Release date: Aug 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781634437714

Alicia Banta

I have been married to my amazing husband for 10+ years and we have 3 beautiful children who keep us very busy. I love life and all that it has to offer. I enjoy playing the piano, dancing, singing, doing yard work, reading inspiring books, and spending time with family. I love God and love improving myself. In 2008, I was in a downhill ski accident that resulted in a terrible sprained ankle that turned into flesh eating virus. This was quite a pivotal moment in my life. I was the one in a million situations, but God has surely made great things come about from one crazy experience! Healing is real, hope is real; true peace is possible. God is not Dead!

Book preview

Pivotal Moments

Light, Hope, and Healing for All

Alicia Banta

Copyright 2014 by Alicia Banta

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Printing: 2014

Smashwords Edition

Banta Enterprises

372 Hialeah Road

Afton, WY 83110

Table of Contents

Preface - My Story

Chapter 1 - An Anchor of Hope

Chapter 2 - This Too Shall Pass

Chapter 3 - The Battle Between Trust and Control

Chapter 4 - Lemons make Lemonade

Chapter 5 - Grounded in Love

Chapter 6 - Living in the Moment

Chapter 7 - Blessings in Disguise

Chapter 8 - We Cannot do it Alone

Chapter 9 - I Can Do Hard Things

Chapter 10 - Small and Simple Things

Chapter 11 - God Wants Us to Laugh

Chapter 12 - Fragile…Handle With Care

Chapter 13 - There are no Coincidences

Chapter 14 - Lighten Your Load by Sharing it

Chapter 15 - Feed the Faith Meter

Chapter 16 - Lose Yourself and You will Find it

Chapter 17 - Joy is Inside

Chapter 18 - A Thankful Heart

Chapter 19 - The Power of a Decision

Chapter 20 - Of Royal Birth

Chapter 21 - He Fought for You

Chapter 22 - Seventy Times Seven

Chapter 23 - Marriage -At the Core

Chapter 24 - Call Home Often

Chapter 25 - The Power House Within

Chapter 26 - Change Your Thoughts, Then Your World

Chapter 27 - God Doesn’t Forget us; We forget God

Chapter 28 - After All We Can Do

My Story

In January of 2008, a downhill ski trip left me with an ugly sprained ankle that didn’t seem like a big deal. I stayed off of my foot and tried to nurse it back to health, but days later, it did not look normal. It had worsened into an oozy, black and blue bubble on my right ankle. A day or two later, a dark purplish color had spread up to my knee. My leg was tight and achy, and my body was burning up with a fever. We decided that it was time to go to the Medical Center.

The Doctor wanted to immediately perform surgery and cut into my leg to see what was going on. We were in our small town of Afton, Wyoming, and when the Doctor opened up the wound, he knew it was beyond his expertise. They shortly wheeled me out of surgery and prepared me to be taken to Salt Lake City by ambulance. The doctors all around me said goodbye, while thinking to themselves that I would not be returning home with two legs.

It was a snowy blizzard that night and a slow drive to the University of Utah Medical Center. My husband sat in front with the driver and I lay in the back heavily drugged with a kind nurse. My mind was still and peaceful and I didn’t know what to expect. No one told me any-thing, and if they did, an angel must have covered my ears.

We finally made it to the hospital where I was wheeled to the Intensive Care Unit on the Burn Trauma floor. The surgeon took one look at my leg, knew what it was, and knew what needed to be done. He would need to de-bride (tear away) all the skin and tissue that was dead and infected from my leg, ankle, and foot. He informed my husband and I that if the infection had reached the muscle, they would need to cut my leg off from the knee down.

At one o’clock a.m., I was wheeled into emergency surgery while my husband waited outside, praying that his wife’s leg would be spared. When I came out of surgery, I immediately wiggled my toes. Praise God! I still had both legs! My leg was now stripped of tissue and skin, only showing tendons and muscles. I had no concept that night of the journey that was ahead of me, and more so, the pivotal moment that this would be in shaping my destiny.

The virus turned out to be an internal virus that attacked the weak tissue and turned into Necrotizing Fasciitis, a rare, flesh-eating virus that usually results in amputations or death. I quickly began to see the hand of God in every step through this dark and scary moment in my life.

After a few days of being on high volumes of antibiotics, I was wheeled in for surgery number three where they made sure the virus had not done more damage. The Lord was merciful again, and I was fine. The journey to rebuild my leg with new skin and function was next on the agenda.

The Doctor explained the process of grafting skin from one body part to my lower leg. He was very positive and said that I would be as good as new and be able to ski again before I knew it. It sounded simple enough.

Every day, I was wheeled to wound care and laid on a bed where they scrubbed and cleaned my bare leg with a hand held shower. On top of all the other pain-killers I was on, they gave me morphine right before each wound care session because of the pain I had to endure. Along with daily wound care, was painful physical therapy attempting to walk and keep as much function in my leg and ankle as possible. My mind was cloudy from all the drugs, and I had very little strength and energy. All I wanted to do was sleep all day.

The first step to rebuilding my leg was to prepare it to receive my own skin from the donor site. They did this by placing cadaver skin all over my leg and foot. And so, I was wheeled into surgery number four where they placed the cadaver skin all over my leg. I was in denial; I refused to look at my leg through the whole process in the hospital. I didn’t have to clean it or change the bandages, so I just kept my eyes closed. My visual memory of my leg through the first weeks is faint. Daily wound care and therapy were dreaded parts of each day, but so was meal time. The nurses brought in nice big plates of food, and I wanted so much to enjoy them, but my body did not respond well to the high doses of pain killers. I was nauseous most of the day, and as soon I started eating, it got worse. I vomited practically every single meal, and then I sat there and cried, knowing that my body needed those nutrients.

Days after the cadaver skin graft, it was time for the final grafting. The Surgeons removed the cadaver skin, and then cut large sheets of skin from my thigh, ran them through a machine that made the skin go further, and stapled the pieces to my right leg, ankle and top of my foot. My leg was bandaged, and I was wheeled out of surgery.

Once the anesthetics wore off, I found myself in the most excruciating pain, a level of pain I didn’t know even existed. The pain came mostly from the donor site, as stripping the top layer of skin was likened to a severe road rash where all the nerves were exposed. I pleaded for more pain medicine, but the nurses assured me that I was being given the maximum dose allowed. The only thing I could do was lay there, pray, and endure the pain until it subsided.

Three weeks after being admitted to the hospital, doctors reluctantly consented for me to return home. With crutches, painkillers, and two bags full of wound care supplies, my husband and I returned home to our one year old daughter. My right leg was forever changed and a chain of pivotal moments was ahead of me that has ultimately changed my soul forever.

An Anchor of Hope

One day our trail can be bright, warm, and sunny, then the next day, the clouds roll in, and the rain begins to fall. Soon, we find ourselves in a huge storm that seems to be throwing us in every direction. Some storms end quickly while others seem to last forever. Those who weather a storm the best are always those who have an anchor to hold on to. Many people, though, keep their anchors buried in a closet and never give thought to them. They think they will pull them out when times get tuff and a storm rolls in. Some without anchors get swept away or become ruined for life from the fierceness of the storm.

Hebrews 6:19 says, "Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast." This verse is referring to the Savior. He is our hope and our anchor that is sure and steadfast. A strong anchor will always weather the worst of storms. As long as we hold on tight to our anchors, we will always see light again, and the storm will always end. Holding on tight during a storm is the key! We must tighten our grip to our knowledge of God and His son Jesus Christ, to the atonement, to joy, to love, and to the things we know we should be doing.

We keep our grip to our anchors strong by doing the little things that we have control over such as praying every day, reading scriptures every day, attending church meet-ings, spending quality time with family, and keeping our lives as clean as we can. No matter how bad the storm gets, as long as we are faithful at the small things, we will be able to stand sure and steadfast, and we will always see light again.

I look back to the storm of my leg injury. One day I was downhill skiing as happy as can be, and only days later, my leg was swollen and black and blue up to my knee. I was whisked away by ambulance and told hours later that I might lose my leg. Then, like a blink of an eye, I was wheeled out of surgery with my leg covered in bandages with only muscle and tendons showing underneath the layers of wrap. One moment, my trail was bright, sunny, and warm. Then, in what seemed like an instant, a huge storm had rolled in, and I found myself fighting a cold, dark, and ferocious storm. But I was not alone, and I did not let go of my anchor. I tightened my grip on my anchor to stay close to God and make it through the unexpected as best as I could. I had many prayers in my behalf and many blessings were administered to me, and even though I was weak and vulnerable and heavily drugged and sleepy most of the time, I remember drawing close to God every moment I could. One of the first things I requested to be brought to me in the hospital was my iPod and my scriptures. I knew that in order to fight the storm at hand, I would need tools to help me.

Every day, I listened to gospel music, bowed my head in my hospital bed to pray night and morning, and opened my scriptures to read God’s holy word, even if I only made it through a verse or two. I knew that the only way to get through that time was to hold on for dear life and just do the best that I could do. God strengthens us in our storms when He sees us trying to hang on and do all that we can do.

In order to realize the worth of the anchor, one needs to feel the stress of the storm (unknown author). A storm will reveal to us what we are really made of and where our hearts really are. A