On top of it, I'm just not right. It's like I'm off-balance. Weird dreams. Dizzy. Wobbly....
Just. Not. Right.
I don't want anyone reading this worrying too much because too many friends have joked that the above symptoms are normal for me, right?! (thanks for that, by the way).
Anyway, the doctor says that's how a concussion makes you feel. But the way it all happened and the fact that my poor daughter suffered so much worse than me - is what's most upsetting.
It was the middle of the night. Sweetest little 5-year old angel fell out of her big girl bed, which she's been in for years. Just a freak accident. Tumbled right off the side, hit the floor, rolled over and hit her head on the sharp edge of her bedside table. It was enough of a cut on her eyebrow to require stitches. So, off to Arkansas Children's Hospital we went (at 1 a.m.)............
I now empathize with anyone and everyone who's endured a middle-of-the-night ER visit. And I have a ridiculous level of respect for any mother dealing with a sick child. And I hope NOT to be back anytime soon....
Because what happened once we got to Children's ER was ridiculous. Now, the doctors and nurses and staff were amazing, and my respect for them is through the roof. But there was no way they could even stop it.
Baby girl had been weighed, tapped, prodded, and lidocaine'd, and we were finally resting comfortably with the lights off at about 3:30 a.m. Doctors came in, flipped on the lights, and that's when all hell broke loose.
Sweetest doll screamed and kicked and shoved. I knew she was strong-willed, but even I was ill-prepared to watch this. There was NO WAY they were touching her eyebrow. Somehow, they got her down, I was by her feet. I remember hearing screams. And then I saw the curved needle. My stomach turned and next thing I knew, I was on the floor.
When I came to, I recall hearing people say things like, "...we have a second patient." And, "...the newslady went down!" And then I was on the gurney with a neck brace, heading in to get a CT scan of my head. I had fainted at the sight of the blood and the needle and the sounds of my screaming baby. One of my best friends later said, "See, it's proof that it's really true when we tell our kids 'this is gonna hurt mommy more than it hurts you!'"
Regardless - what a giant FAIL! I had one job: to get my baby girl stitched. Didn't happen. Poor girl had to be numbed all over again. I felt terrible. I kept it together until a nurse asked who my emergency contact is, that someone needed to be there with us. I burst into tears. Since the divorce, that's been the worst question to answer as a 42-year old mother. I wanted to scream "I DON'T HAVE ONE!!!!!!!!"
Daddy was home with our son, and someone did come, thank God. Lovebug got stitched. We made it home. But I have little memory of the hours that followed. In fact, I was in a fog for about two weeks.
I don't know why this happened. Accidents just happen, I guess. There's no real great story to it - it's not like we were skiing in the Rockies or zip-lining in the jungle or anything. Just one of those freak events that reminds you to appreciate the peaceful moments of life when all is well. Couldn't have stopped it even if I tried.
Little angel recovered rather quickly. My head pounds as I type. And did I mention I have weird dreams and nightmares? And even though I've ready this quote many times, for the first time, it actually made sense:
"When you're young, all the accidents, all the pain - you take them, but at least you're very strong. In fact, through time, it's just adding more and more pain, more and more loss, and it makes you more and more fragile." ~ Carole Bouquet