Georgia Hunter Makes Full Recovery From Tree-Stand Fall

I would like to share some words of encouragement with Zach Getskow after his recent fall from a tree stand.

I live in Dacula, Ga., but I had a very similar experience seven years ago in Montgomery County, Missouri on Nov. 18, 2013. I fell 17 1/2 feet when the nylon straps suddenly snapped on a lock-on stand I had hunted from several times.

Charles Slovensky with a Missouri deer taken in 2018, five years after he fell from a tree-stand, which left him with an uncertain future.

I had declined to wear a safety harness that morning, despite encouragement from my son before we left our hunting cabin. I later learned that UV rays weaken nylon over time. Nevertheless, when I regained consciousness on the ground approximately a half hour later, my Lord and Savior started a series of miracles that would save my life and restore my health.

When I woke up, I knew I had lost my glasses, but I could see my Blackberry holster laying on the ground about 10 feet away. It had been sheared from my belt, probably on impact. I crawled over and picked it up. Unable to focus on the screen without my glasses, I was granted by God the presence of mind to realize that I had texted my son moments before I had fallen, and that I could retrieve that message and call him by pressing just one other button.

I found out later that Josh was several miles away, driving on the interstate to deliver to a friend a doe he had shot that morning. When he answered my call. I was only able to utter, “I’ve fallen, I need help,” before passing out again.

Josh detoured across the median and drove to get to me. On the way, he instructed other family members to call 911.

The next thing I remember was a paramedic asking my son if I was allergic to anything. Josh was flabbergasted when he heard me enunciate “erythromycin” clear as day because he had gotten to me well before the paramedics, and I had not spoken to him or even opened my eyes.

The paramedics carried me to Josh’s truck and put the stretcher in the back. The next thing I remember was the sound of the chopper’s blades. I still hadn’t opened my eyes since looking at my Blackberry. I was air flighted about 60 miles, where a team of doctors assessed my injuries and put me in an induced coma.

Three weeks later, just before my family would have had to make the heart-wrenching decision of which long-term intensive care facility to put me in, I came out of the coma. Injuries to my neck and head were added to 13 broken ribs. I was in a neck brace and on an intubation tube and being fed intravenously. The neck brace was so uncomfortable I decided I couldn’t stand it and ripped it off, along with the intubation tube one night.

After that, I became a model patient, progressing rapidly through inpatient and outpatient rehab, including physical, occupational and speech therapy and passing all the cognitive tests with flying colors. Shortly after Christmas, I was ready for release.

By the grace of God, my wife and I had purchased a house for Josh to live in while we fixed it up to resell. It just so happened that house was very close to the hospital. It not only provided a place for her to stay while I was in the hospital but also a place for me to go when I was released. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to stay in the area for outpatient rehab and follow-up doctor visits but would have had to go back to Georgia.

A week after my release, I had walked to the mailbox. My wife had gone to meet a friend for lunch, but her niece was with me. I was having trouble breathing, and by the time I got back to the front porch, I decided I should sit on an empty concrete urn. When I finally figured out I was more than just winded, I went inside, and 911 was called again.

Providentially, the firehouse was only a mile away, and I was quickly in the hands of paramedics—again. At the hospital, imaging revealed a pulmonary embolism (blood clot in the lungs) but also exposed a previously missed tear in my aorta. The next morning, I had surgery to place stents in my aorta and vena cava.

By March, I had completed outpatient rehab and was able to return to Georgia. By May, I was back at work and able to resume most physical activities.

I was 62 when I fell, and I was able to avoid long-term disability and make it to retirement at 67. I was able to return to deer hunting and turkey hunting, but I don’t go solo, and I have no desire to climb trees. I do have much stronger desires to serve my Lord and to devote more time to my family and friends.  Those are, perhaps, the greatest miracles of all coming from my fall seven years ago.