"My Child Just Fell Off His Bike, and the Worst Nightmare Happened"

Tilia Meidan doesn’t remember the moment her cell phone rang and a woman on the line said, "Your son Guy fell off his bike and got hurt," as particularly shocking. She knows her son Guy, eight-and-a-half years old, and is familiar with his occasional bicycle falls. At the time, she didn’t think there was any reason for concern.

"It was a seemingly regular day," she recounts. "I returned home from work at six, and my parents, who come to watch the kids and pick up the little one from kindergarten once a week, were waiting for me at home. As I drove through the street, I saw my son Guy riding his bike near the house; I waved to him and continued home, feeling calm because I knew he was responsible."

Tilia notes that she barely had time to put her bag down when her cell phone suddenly rang. The call, at that moment, did not cause her any concern. "I hung up and told my parents I’m going to bring Guy and see how he was. I was still calm, not thinking anything serious had happened, but my dad insisted, 'I’m coming with you.' I tried to explain there was no need, Guy was close, and I’d be right back, but my dad wouldn’t relent. Ultimately, it turned out to be a great stroke of providence."

Serious Injury

When Tilia and her father found Guy, they saw a crowd gathered around him. "Guy was lying on the ground," she describes, "in pain, barely able to speak. I approached him and asked, 'Guy, what happened?' He whispered with difficulty: 'Mom, I fell off my bike, I got a hit, and I can't get up.' As soon as he said that, he started vomiting and vomiting... I looked at my dad, and we both realized something serious was happening. I began to tremble all over."

At that stage, the ambulance that had been called hadn’t arrived yet, and Tilia notes that they didn’t know what to do. "I started running around aimlessly, finally raising my eyes to the sky and whispering to Hashem: 'I don’t know what journey I’m embarking on, but it’s clear something bad is happening; please get us out of this safely.' From that moment, I couldn’t pray anymore. I barely whispered 'Shir LaMa'alot' while in the ambulance, which arrived after half an hour where Guy kept vomiting."

Tilia continues, remembering when they arrived at the hospital, where doctors immediately attended to Guy and made it clear it was an emergency. "They took all his vitals and inserted a feeding tube. Initially, I didn’t understand what was happening; after all, the child merely fell off his bike, but the doctors explained that the handlebars likely caused a significant abdominal injury, endangering internal organs. They moved him to intensive care, where he stayed all night."

Was Guy conscious?

"Yes, he was conscious, and we were required to keep him awake, but he barely communicated with us. He was in severe pain, and we were mostly helpless, not understanding his condition or what was to be done."

The following day, the picture began to clear, but not in a positive direction. "I will never forget the look on the doctor’s face who approached to explain the diagnosis. He was very stern, telling us, 'Listen, I don't want to list all the possibilities that can arise from abdominal injuries; there’s a whole book detailing them, but we're taking Guy for a CT scan. After the exam, we'll know more about possible internal organ damage.'"

Tilia and her husband didn’t fully comprehend their son's exact situation throughout that day, but the next day, the doctor returned with an update: "The situation doesn’t look good; we’re taking him to surgery."

The word 'surgery' instilled great fear in Tilia. "Emergency surgery is frightening for anyone, but in our family, someone close died on the operating table, so surgeries have always seemed catastrophic."

However, the doctor clarified that there was no other option since they couldn’t accurately determine his condition without an exploratory surgery. If things seemed fine, they’d simply close him back up.

At this moment, Tilia managed to pray again. "I approached the intensive care window, looked up at the sky, and cried out to the Master of the Universe – 'I don’t know what to pray for or ask from you, I don’t know what you want from me, but please save us, only you can."

"I felt that the words I whispered were really strengthening me," she recalls. "I am relatively new to this path of faith, having started five years ago. Since then, I’ve kept Shabbat, but my husband doesn’t, and it’s a big challenge. Before the surgery, I asked Guy to try strengthening himself in some way for merit, and he, so sweet and mature, promised to try keeping Shabbat. We also called Rabbi Zamir Cohen, who blessed Guy and gave us a lot of strength, which gave us enormous encouragement."

Guy was in surgery for three hours. "Those were hours of nightmare," Tilia recalls, "feelings of helplessness, terrible fear, and at the end of those three hours, the surgeon came out and said: 'Listen, it wasn’t simple at all; Guy had necrosis in his small intestine. We cut out half a meter. It wasn’t simple. You must understand he was in life-threatening danger; if we hadn’t removed the necrosis, he wouldn’t have survived.'"

Tilia wipes away a tear as she remembers the events. "Of course, I whispered 'Mizmor LeTodah' and thanked Hashem for His immense kindness. The message was clear and left no room for doubt – we had a great miracle."

Yet, moments later, another surgeon came out of the operating room looking serious. "I approached him, thanking him for saving Guy’s life, but he was less optimistic than the first doctor, painting a grimmer picture: 'You must understand that intestinal surgeries can lead to complications, and any abdominal surgery can lead to adhesions and obstructions.' He presented the situation more bleakly and warned us that we might not be out of the woods yet."

How did you feel?

"I felt nothing; I looked up to the sky and said: 'Master of the Universe, I know it’s not the doctors, it’s only you above all, there is none like you. Please protect our child.'"

Prayers on Hoshanah Rabbah

A few days after the surgery, Tilia, her husband, and Guy returned home. "Guy began to recover, and for three days his condition seemed to improve, but then, on Friday night, he complained of stomach pain. At first, I asked him to continue resting, since he had undergone surgery and it made sense for his stomach to hurt, but Guy told me, 'This isn’t regular pain, it really hurts.' I asked him to rate his pain from 1 to 10, and he said '8.' This raised a red flag. We gave him Nurofen, but it didn’t help, so I told my husband I was calling an ambulance. For me, the decision wasn’t easy, because I’m very strict about keeping Shabbat, but I understood that this was a matter of saving a life. It was clear I was right because as soon as the ambulance arrived, Guy started vomiting. We arrived at the hospital, he was connected to a tube again, and after two days he was rushed to another emergency surgery, revealing that the entire small intestine was stuck together. Again, we had a great miracle, and the doctors managed to treat and save Guy. This time, we were discharged and achieved a full recovery," she says. "*Baruch Hashem*, last month, we celebrated a thanksgiving party for Guy, and right after Chanukah, Guy returned to school, happy to meet his friends and resume a healthy, normal life."

Tilia notes that only now, weeks after the incident, are they beginning to digest what they went through. "I feel that Hashem was with us every step of the way; He really walked with us hand in hand and accompanied us," she describes. "The truth is that, for me, the supervision began long before the fall; it started on Hoshanah Rabbah, during Sukkot. That night, a friend called and invited me to a special evening of prayers and sermons. I had never marked Hoshanah Rabbah before, but I felt a special need now. Perhaps it was because on Yom Kippur, during *Neilah* prayer, I felt something wasn’t right; it felt as if a black cloud hovered over me, and I feared the coming year. After the event on Hoshanah Rabbah, I returned home so strengthened, feeling that it was right that I participated, surely sweetening judgments for me and my family. Only after what happened to Guy did I begin to understand my feelings. I don’t try to calculate divine accounts, but I completely feel that my spiritual strengthening on Hoshanah Rabbah had an effect."  

She concludes with immense gratitude: "Since Guy's recovery until today, we have continuously thanked Hashem. It’s clear that Guy received his life beyond what we could have expected, and all we can do is give thanks and build our strength, because everything comes from the Almighty."