|My mom and Davy.
He's probably about six months old here.
The only thing that allows me to get out of bed in the morning and keeps me from melting into a puddle of tears every day is knowing that Davy is in heaven, and that I'll see him again one day. It also helps to know that in heaven, his arm is healed and his heart knows no pain. Davy could be his own worst enemy, and many of the roadblocks he had to navigate were of his own doing. But he never ceased to amaze me with this unbreakable spirit. He never quit trying, no matter what. There were times he wanted to give up, but he always found the strength to push on. When most people would throw in the towel, Davy pushed on. I always admired that about him. He was like a cat with nine lives … and when thrown, he always landed on his feet. That's one of the reasons his death was so hard to comprehend. Davy, of all people, couldn't die.
His arm injury (in late August, 2017) was the worst thing to happen to him, even worse than the car accident that left him in a coma, in ICU on a ventilator. I remember standing beside his bed in ICU, watching that machine breathing for him. There wasn't a mark on him. No bruises, no cuts, no broken bones. I was grateful he wasn't physically mangled, but it was confusing and frightening to stand by his bed. I couldn't keep from touching him. He was warm, which meant he was alive. I clung to that.
As far as his arm injury, how many men have punched something when they're angry and walked away with nothing but sore knuckles? Well, Davy sliced his bicep to the bone, severing the artery, muscles, and nerves. Fortunately, someone saw it happen. They did what they could to pinch the artery to stop him from bleeding out, and got him to the hospital in time to save his arm. The surgeons here were able to repair the artery, but the muscle and nerve damage were out of their expertise. The next day, Davy was transferred to a hospital in Louisville, one that pioneered nerve repair surgery.
Before surgery, the doctor told us they generally repaired the nerve first, then the artery. Since the artery was already repaired, they would have to be very careful "digging around it" the find the nerves. If they couldn't find the nerves without damaging the artery, he would have no feeling in his arm for the rest of his life. Luckily, they were able to locate the nerves, but apparently nerves shrink when they are severed, so they used cadaver nerves to attach them together.
We were told it would be one and a half to two years before the nerves regenerated all the way down to his hand, then the nerves had to grow into the muscle, and that therapy would be required for several years. Davy had several follow-up appointments with his surgeon in the months after his surgery. I took him to his last doctor appointment in May. The nerves had grown just past his wrist. His doctor was astounded at how fast the nerves had grown. The nerves still had to grow deep into the muscles, and he may never have full range of movement, but the doctors were very optimistic.
Davy could bend and straighten his arm, but had no grip strength in his right hand, and he had little feeling … but feeling was returning in random places … slowly but surely. His injury made it difficult to find a job, and that frustrated him profoundly. He was working with a job coach and a physical therapist, and they were certain they could find a job for him doing something until his arm healed and he could do whatever he wanted. Sadly, he was killed before that could happen.
Now, he's in heaven. His arm is fully functional and he will never have any more hurdles to jump … and he gets to meet my mom, dad, my two brothers. My dad died before I married and had kids, but my mother was alive to see all of them. She died when my kids were 2, 4, and 6. My oldest has a few memories of her, but the younger two don't.
Mama loved my babies. Mama loved pretty much everyone. She was one of those people who only saw the good in others. She was kind and sweet and generous to a fault. Losing her was extremely painful. But now, Davy knows her, and I'm sure he's up there talking her ear off … and she's listening and laughing and cracking jokes with him. My mother had a very quick wit. I know the two of them hit it off very well … and my dad and brothers get to meet my son for the first time. I don't know if people shake hands upon greeting in heaven, but if they do, Davy can now give a firm handshake with his right hand. The problems he had on earth are gone, so his heart is light and his spirit is free, and I'm sure he hasn't stopped smiling.
One day, I'll go to heaven … but I don't want a handshake from Davy… I want a long, GIANT, never-ending hug.
PLEASE KEEP YOUR EYE OUT
FOR THE CAR THAT KILLED MY SON!
Even if you don't live in the Evansville area, please keep an eye out for this car. It was traveling South on I-69. It could have been coming from and going to anywhere. The Sheriff's office will follow up any ANY lead.
The Sheriff’s Office has identified the make and model of the suspect vehicle from the fatal hit and run crash that killed 23-year old David “Davy” Egan, father of two, on Friday, June 22, 2018 on I-69 near south Green River Road.
: Silver 1998-2002 Honda Accord sedan. 2-door or 4-door body style. The vehicle will have damage to the front end.
If you know of a vehicle matching this description, please contact the Sheriff's Office TIP line at 812-421-6297 or leave a web tip .