Betsy Lamberson - Breaking Open

 

 

In 2006, I was living my dream life in Cairo, Egypt, with my husband, Tom. Tom was working as a teacher at a local school. I was 24. I had just graduated with a degree in Middle East Studies and Arabic, and I landed a job with a nonprofit that I was deeply passionate about. And it was incredible. I spoke the language. I had this view of the pyramids from my office and I truly believed I was exactly where I wanted to be doing exactly what I wanted to be doing. In fact, we were so happy there that we decided to stay as long as we could. And so, I invited my dad and stepmom to come visit us from where they lived in Wyoming. 

 

Now, my parents aren't big world travelers, but they were willing to come visit us, because they wanted to see what our life was like. So, when they got to Egypt, we go straight to this little village in the Sinai Peninsula called Dahab. And one night, we're walking around and we're just looking for a place to eat. And all of a sudden, we hear this, boom, behind us. And we look back and there is what looks like a large firework fountain. It actually takes a slight moment to realize, like, there's not supposed to be a firework there, and we're actually in danger. 

 

At this moment, my dad looks at me and he says, “Oh, shit, here we go.” We all take off running away from it and we take one, two, maybe three steps. And then, that is when the real bomb goes off behind us. And it is a sound louder than God. It is so sharp and intense, and the blast from it knocks me forward. And at this moment, time slows down to microseconds for me. I'm hyper aware of everything that's going on. There's this heat from the blast that warms my clothes, and I can actually hear small bits of shrapnel whizzing by my ears in this hot wind. And then, I can't hear anything. 

 

I lift my head up, and I can see people screaming and talking, and I can't hear them. And then, suddenly, that my hearing comes back and I actually think like, oh, my God, this is incredible. This is just like in the movies when they lose their hearing. And then, I look and when I lift my arm, I have this tiny hole in my arm, and there's this stream of blood coming out, and I just fixate on it and I think, oh, my God, like, I just went through that. There's this tiny hole in my arm. That's amazing. [audience laughter] 

 

So, I scan around to see where everyone is. I don't see my stepmom. Later, we found out that she had outran the blast. I don't see Tom. I look behind me and I find my dad. He's sitting there with his leg and he says he's okay, but his leg is in really bad shape, and then he says, “Tom doesn't look so good.” I follow his gaze over. And lying there on the ground is my husband. He's so injured that I didn't even recognize him. It's around this time that I start to get lightheaded. I look down to take more of it in, and I realize that I am sitting in a pool of my own blood. There's no way it all came from the tiny hole in my arm. 

 

We all survived and we went-- We started this journey from being medevaced from the Sinai to Cairo, from Cairo to the military hospital in Germany. And eventually, as we discovered what our wounds were and our medical needs were, we were brought to Denver, Colorado, because it was where there was hospitals that could take care of our needs. It was closest to our hometown in Casper, Wyoming. Along the way, we discovered that three bombs had gone off that night. They were carried out by radical Bedouin Sinais who were targeting the Egyptian regime. 24 people had died, and over 80 people were injured. We were the only four Americans. 

 

The thing about being injured, is that there's no going back to a normal life. And in fact, the term injured can mean an entire range of hardship and ruin. My stepmom had small shrapnel wounds and some nerve damage. My dad nearly lost his foot in the bombing. It took over almost two months to just stabilize his foot to a point where he could return home and continue his recovery. Tom was injured the worst of us. He was in ICU for a while. He had nearly lost his arm, and the rest of his body was just like this mass of wounds. 

 

I personally had-- the back of my legs were just peppered with shrapnel. There's these two chunks in my legs where there's just flesh and muscle that are missing. We lovingly refer to them as shark bites. And so, throughout all of this, I was dealing with it in my own special little way, and that I was obscenely positive and I wouldn't let any negativity in. So, in the hospital, I kept saying things like, “This is so incredible. And oh, my God, I'm so grateful. What a blessing.” So much so that I found out later the nurses had actually made notes in my medical charts, something to the effect of like, “Patient may not know she wasn't a bomb.” [audience laughter] But it was just like how I coped and got through it. 

 

So, after three weeks in the hospital, I was wheeled out of the hospital directly to the hotel I would now be living in. I had a pair of crutches and a carryon suitcase. The entire world that I had known and loved was lost. And in the hotel, that positivity started to wane as reality, the reality of our situation came crashing down on me. As I started to piece our life back together, this numbness snuck in. And then, I had one thing to look forward to, and that was our second wedding anniversary was coming up. I really wanted to make it special, because the last year we were at the Ritz Carlton and the Sinai snorkeling, and it was incredible. I also wanted to mark everything we had been through. So, given the situation, it was going to just be flowers and gifts and some nice food to share with my husband in his hospital room. 

 

So, I set out one day. I set out like midafternoon. I know there's some shops nearby and I'm going to go get these things. I'm on foot, because I don't have a car. I get to the shops and they're closed, and I think like, okay, well, what do I know is nearby? And I'm like, “Oh, there's like a Whole Foods.” And like, Whole Foods are magical. They have everything and it's all beautiful. It was perfect. It was a ways away, but I was feeling really strong even though I hadn't been walking very long, and I was like, “Yeah, I'll do it.” It was a hot day. 

 

By the time I got there, I had walked probably over two miles. So, I was super exhausted. I get to Whole Foods and I realized like, “Oh, yeah, Whole Foods is just a grocery store.” The food doesn't even look good. The flowers aren't exotic or special at all. I grab a bouquet and I decide like, forget it. I'm just going to order pizza. That'll be special enough. It's not hospital food. It'll work. And then, I go to the gift aisle, and I'm like-- there's yoga socks and chakra candles, and I'm like, “Oh.” I find this picture frame, and it's fair trade and it's made of leaves. And I'm like, “Great, that's going to work perfect.” 

 

I get the picture frame and the bouquet. I call a cab to take me back, because I'm too tired. As I'm sitting there, I'm taking in my surroundings of this new city that I'm living in and I'm in a Shishi area, like, I notice there's this girl who's just having this great Cherry Creek afternoon. She's eating sushi and talking to her friend. Her life looks incredible to me. While I'm sitting there, I hear this [thump]. This is where I should note that our anniversary was also the 4th of July. Even though it's the middle of the day, caddy corner from the Whole Foods is the Denver Country Club, and they have just launched a single firework. I take a deep breath and brace myself, and I watch as this firework comes up directly over the parking lot and it goes off. 

 

Every cell in my body is screaming at me that horrible things happen after that sound. And I break down. The girl who had been on the phone with her friend sees me crying and she says, “I got to go. There's this girl crying hysterically.” She comes over and asks if I'm okay. And through the tears, I tell her like, “I'm okay. There's this thing, and it didn't mean anything to anybody, but I was just in a bombing and I'm freaking out right now.” And she's like, “Oh, my gosh, how can I help you?” She offers me a ride. I take it, because I couldn't stand waiting for the cab. 

 

When we're in the car, she asks me questions, and I'm talking to her, and it's helping to calm me down. I'm telling her everything and I'm like, “I lived in Egypt, and my parents came to visit and they were also injured.” She's just like, “Oh, my God.” And I'm like, “And my husband almost lost his arm and he's in the hospital,” and she's like, “Oh, my God.” And I was like, “And I live in a hotel,” and she's like “Oh, my God.” And I was like, “And it's my wedding anniversary,” and she's just like, “Oh, my God.” [audience laughter] This whole ride is like that. We get to the hotel, and she pulls up as close as she can because I don't want to be outside. 

 

I thank her profusely and I go inside. All the fear, and the terror and everything I never felt the night of the bombing just floods my system. And I allow it, because I know that I have to feel it if I want to heal. Thank you.