When trauma strikes, it leaves a heavy mark. For Lisa and her teenage daughter, Leah, sharing the details of a day that changed their lives forever brings emotions to the surface.
As Director of Family Medicine, Lisa spends her days taking care of others at the NMC Health family medicine clinic in Hesston and Newton Immediate Care. She is a pillar of the team at NMC Health. She oversees the call center and the receptionists’ insurance training, manages patient care, and keeps clinics running smoothly. But nearly a year ago, Lisa became the one who needed saving.
As the one-year mark of her terrible accident approaches, the memories remain raw. It is a deeply personal story of a horrific fall, a long road to physical and emotional recovery, and the fierce, unbreakable love between a mother and her child.
The bond before the fall
To fully understand their story, you have to understand their bond. Lisa and Leah have always been incredibly close. As the oldest child, Leah admits she did not have an older sibling to look up to. Instead, she looked to her parents.
“People look at my mom and I, how close we are, and they say we grew up together,” Leah says.
They were partners in crime. They started small side businesses selling t-shirts. They worked out together. On a whim, they would go on five-mile walks just to spend time with each other. Leah always carried a quiet maturity far beyond her years. It was a character trait that would soon be tested in the most extreme way possible.
A peaceful evening turns to terror
It was Labor Day weekend, 2025. The family was camping at the lake. They love the outdoors, and camping was a regular weekend activity. After dinner, the sun began to set. Lisa asked Leah if she wanted to go for a short walk on the dam.
Water was flowing lightly over the concrete, so they took off their shoes to keep them dry. They stepped onto a large drainage spillway. It looked perfectly safe. It was not.
The wet concrete was slick with hidden algae. Lisa took one step, and her feet flew out from under her. As she fell, panic and instinct took over. She grabbed for Leah’s ankle. Suddenly, both mother and daughter were sliding down a steep, 30-foot concrete drop.
Lisa hit the back of her head hard against the solid concrete as they fell. When they finally reached the bottom, Lisa tried to sit up and catch her balance. But her momentum threw her forward. The right side of her face slammed into a massive log spanning the water.
Then, she slipped beneath the surface. She was completely unconscious.
The rescue
What happened next is a dark blur for Lisa. She can mostly recall only what others have relayed to her.
“I remember bits and pieces,” says Lisa.
But for Leah, the memory is crystal clear. Her brain shifted instantly into fight-or-flight mode. Time slowed down.
“I saw her hit her head as we went down,” Leah says. “I ducked under and the most I got was a bruise on my hip. I went under the water, and I saw blood coming from her mouth. She was just floating there. I picked her up.”
Leah dragged her unconscious mother onto the rocks. She screamed for her dad. As her father and uncle slid down the slippery slope to help, Leah scrambled back up the 30-foot drop in her bare feet. She ran as fast as she could to get more help.
Many people freeze in a major crisis. Leah took action. It is no surprise to anyone who knows her that Leah has big dreams of becoming a senator one day. She has the kind of natural leadership, bravery, and cool head under pressure that you simply cannot teach.
Leah insists she is not a hero. She credits faith, prayer, and the quick actions of others. But Lisa knows the truth.
“She got me out of the water. No one had any idea until she was yelling,” Lisa says, her voice shaking with emotion. “I tell everybody that she saved my life. I know in my heart that she did.”
Lisa pauses, tries to gain composure. “I am forever grateful.”
The race for survival
Getting out of the spillway was only the first major hurdle. First responders arrived quickly. They carefully assessed Lisa’s injuries. Her ear was torn into three separate pieces. She had a deep hole in her chin, and her bottom lip was split.
They rushed her into an ambulance. The drive from the campsite to the larger hospital in the city usually takes an hour and a half. The ambulance driver made it in just 55 minutes.
Inside the emergency room, the news was very grim as Lisa went in and out of consciousness.
“I remember waking up in the emergency room,” she recalls. “I had a doctor standing next to me who said, ‘I don’t think I can fix this ear. I think the ear might be gone.’”
Then she was out again.
Scans showed she had suffered three separate brain bleeds. She spent three days in the neurological ICU and five days total at a nearby, larger hospital.
Through the fear and the waiting, Leah became the rock for her family. With her mom in the ICU and her dad staying by Lisa’s side, Leah stepped up. She drove back roads into the city to visit. She comforted her younger sister during her darkest, most fearful moments.
Leah pushed her own feelings deep down to be strong for everyone else.
“I didn’t cry,” Leah says. “I knew [my mom] was okay. She was going to come out of it. I was just ready for that normal time again.”
The long road to healing
Surgeons worked absolute miracles. They were able to sew Lisa’s ear back together. They fixed her chin and her lip. All in all, she had 32 stitches in her face and ear. But the invisible injuries took the heaviest toll.
When Lisa finally went home, the pain was blinding. She suffered from severe headaches that kept her isolated in a dark room for days. She developed serious vertigo, which she still battles today. She lost her front tooth and had to undergo multiple frustrating surgeries.
For a woman who prides herself on being so strong and independent, the recovery was deeply humbling. But her community rallied tightly behind her. Her clinic team set up a massive meal train, bringing two weeks’ worth of home-cooked food so her husband could focus on her care.
“I hate not being the one to cook the food or be the mom,” Lisa laughed, finding a bit of light in the dark. “Everyone’s bringing these home-cooked meals, and I’m like, ‘It’s not mine!'”
Through it all, Leah was right there. When Lisa felt embarrassed about missing a tooth, Leah became her voice, proudly ordering food for her at restaurants. The daughter became the caretaker, chauffeuring her mother and offering silent support.
Processing the reality
Processing the weight of saving a life is a heavy burden. A year later, the reality of that day can stop you in your tracks.
“I still think about it, but I don’t really like to talk about it,” Leah says. “This is the first time I’ve actually talked about it and kind of said every detail because otherwise it was vague and I wanted to get it over with. I hear mom explain it…”
Leah’s voice trails off. In that quiet moment, the interview stops. Lisa reaches over, gently rubbing her daughter’s back. She grabs a tissue, pulls Leah into a tight hug and whispers, “I love you.” As Lisa holds her, her own eyes grow misty.
It is a powerful reminder that while the physical wounds have closed, the emotional healing is a daily journey they’re walking together.
Finding a new normal
Today, daily life looks a little different for Lisa’s family. They are taking baby steps. The camper has only been out once this year. They used to be huge outdoor adventurers, but they prefer to stay closer to home now.
Lisa still deals with scars and occasional bouts of dizziness. She is reminded of the accident every time she looks in the mirror. But she is back at work, leading her team with the same fierce dedication she always has.
The trauma changed them, but it also brought them closer together. Lisa, Leah, and the rest of the family share a special bond forged in the hardest of fires.
When asked what she wants people to take away from their story, Leah’s advice is meant for the older siblings out there who carry heavy family burdens.
“Even if you think you’re not doing enough, you really are,” Leah says.
For Lisa, her first response was humorous: “Get a low deductible!” The rest of her message is one of profound gratitude and unyielding resilience.
“A traumatic event happened,” says Lisa. “I never expected Leah, my 16-year-old daughter, to save my life. Just keep moving forward.”
We often look for heroes in movies or on the news. But sometimes, the greatest heroes are the ones we raise in our own homes. Lisa and Leah’s story is a powerful reminder that life is fragile, family is everything, and true courage can be found in the heart of a teenage girl.