I really don't think my life was meant to be laid back and fancy free. I mean, I never thought it would be easy, or uncomplicated, but lately it has been one big thing after another. Two weekends ago, for example. What started out as a fun trip to Houston to visit friends and enjoy some crawfish and beer, turned into the scariest, most terrifying event of my life.
My daughter, the one who has an adventurous streak to her, but usually is quite cautious, decided that she wanted to look out of the window. No biggie. Even though it was in the second story bedroom, and the windows were open because it was gorgeous day still wasn't a problem. When she proceeded to stand on top of a doll house to see even further - that became a problem. Somewhere in the mix, she lost her balance and fell against the screen and flipped out of the window. Then came the "THUNK!" sound. My husband and oldest daughter went running outside to see what it was. He heard her crying, and thought she had tripped over a swing in the yard. She was lying in the dirt - between the gazebo and the grill - and was on her hands and knees. When he looked around, he saw the screen next to her, looked up and saw that the window was wide open and flipped. He carried inside and as I was checking her out and asking where the nearest hospital was, I moved her hair out of her face and saw the biggest, nastiest "bump" {that's not even close to what it looked like!} on her forehead! I thought I might pass out, because I knew she had hit her head and hard! After grabbing the phone, and calling 911, and trying to keep her from moving around, I went into panic mode.
I was still in my PJ's {along with most everyone else!} I threw on my clothes - bra, shirt, pants, shoes - and continued talking to the 911 dispatcher. I somehow managed to do this without losing it completely.
The paramedics arrived and of course said we shouldn't have moved her {yes, he knew this, but it was his baby girl, and I'm quite sure he wasn't thinking logically seeing her lying in the dirt - knowing she had just fallen about 20 feet out of a window.} After asking us what seemed to be 80 billion questions, and getting her stabilized on the board and putting a neck brace on her {which she HATED!} I asked which hospital we were going to. Of course I knew the answer - downtown, Memorial Hermann. The BIG one. Like, for major traumas and stuff. NOT good. I think I started feeling nauseous at this point.
Every little thing that I could possibly imagine that wasn't good popped into my crazy head.
What if she had a skull fracture?
What if she had bleeding in her brain?
What if her brain started swelling, and she went into a coma?
What if she went into a coma and never woke up?
What if . . . ?
I just couldn't go there.
Now, we were in Houston, which meant great medical care, but Houston is HUGE. Like GINORMOUS. And my husband has NO idea where to go and how to get to the Medical Center part of Houston. I had lived in Houston and I don't think I could have gotten there without serious help. Add to that the stress of knowing that your child was being taken via ambulance to a major trauma center with a closed head injury and, well, you get where I'm going - no clue.
None.
Thankfully, our friends were the biggest help!!
I rode in the ambulance with Emma - who, by the way, was just fine. All she was concerned with was whether or not she was going to have to get shots {which she didn't want} and if the tape that was holding her head and neck in place on the board was going to hurt when it came off {nice, huh?} Of course, on the ride to the hospital, all she wanted to do was sleep - which freaked me out completely. The paramedic said it was okay, since all of her vitals were perfect. But I couldn't let her. What if her brain was swelling and she fell asleep and wouldn't wake up again. So, I kept her awake any way I could think of - tickling her feet, poking her, talking to her. She didn't like me much. I didn't care. If she was awake, then she was fine. Right?
When we got to the hospital was when all of the fun started. More questions. More medical history {don't these people read the notes that the people before them took?} More waiting.
Good thing - we were at one of the best trauma centers in the country. In a Major Trauma room.
Bad thing - we were in one of the biggest cities in the country. In a Major Trauma room.
Her doctor was awesome. The nurses were awesome. The Child Life Specialist was especially awesome. She gave Emma her own pink DVD player, and all of the girly movies a girl could want! Those came in very handy for our looooong wait. Did I mention that we were in Houston? That the hospital was where they took all of the really serious injuries - car accidents, gunshot victims, etc? Yep. That was us.
It should have made feel better that we were being pushed back in the wait for the CT. Oh, one more thing . . . the busiest trauma center in the country - they only have one, ONE, CT machine for the entire Trauma Unit. One. Not so good. I think we waited at least three hours to have her CT scan. Every time we were next in line, someone more serious came in and bumped us back. Good for us, I guess.
So, I digress.
Once her CT scans were done, and her x-rays were taken, the doctor came in shaking his head. Nothing. No brain injury. No brain bleed. No fractured skull. No broken bones. Nothing. Nada. Of course, it didn't mean that should could have a concussion, but she may not have symptoms for a few hours, or even a day. All she had was a swollen, black and blue eye, and huge bump on her head - with a couple of scrapes. That's it. THAT'S IT!!!! I don't even think I wrap my head around that. Even now. I cannot comprehend it. It was truly a miracle. Truly. God had protected my child that day in an extraordinary way. Her Guardian Angel had earned her wings, and used them to protect my baby from what could have been an incredibly horrific event. I honestly have no words to describe it.
Later that evening, when we were on our way back to our friends' house, she told me that she had been scared. I told her that I was too. More scared than I had ever been in my life. I told her that she was very lucky. That she was very blessed - we all were. God had protected her and watched over her to make sure that had been okay. I told her the one thing that I knew to be true - that God had known that her Mommy and Daddy needed her here with them now, more than He needed her. I had to believe that, because there was no other explanation. Twice He has protected her, and given her to us in perfect form. Once on the day that she was born {another story for another day} and again on this day. April 11, 2010.
She's my angel. All smiles after getting home from the hospital!! Thank God for those smiles.
Not a moment goes by that I won't appreciate the little things that my children do. Especially now. Because in a moment, they could be taken from me. And I will never forget that.
