Last Tuesday morning I was sitting on my couch, drinking my Coke Zero, watching Regis and Kelly while I typed up my blog entry. It was an entry about our crazy Labor Day weekend, how busy we'd been, how we packed in so much stuff, blah blah blah. I'd gone walking earlier in the morning and was feeling very smug about the fact that I had my exercise out of the way, but was trying to decide if I should finish my blog entry or go shower. Blogging won (although I never did publish the entry!)
A few minutes later my phone rang and I recognized the number as my kids' school. Kylie had a tummy ache, which I figured was related to one of two things: either the stomach virus Blaine had endured Sunday night; or the bump on the head Kylie took Sunday afternoon when she fell on our hateful stone fireplace. I jumped into the shower for a quick scrub and hauled it to the school within 20 minutes of the call. While en route I called the pediatrician's office, who insisted we go straight to the hospital. I was certain she was fine and they were over-reacting (don't judge unless you have four kids!)
Forty-five minutes later we arrived at the world-renowned children's hospital and jumped out to hand the car keys to the valet. This was about when Kylie realized she'd left her very important carsick bag in, well, the car, so it was easier to puke on the ground and my shoes instead of getting the baggie. While everyone stared at us, I remember thinking - this is a hospital - you can't tell me my kid is the first to puke in the parking lot!
Forty-five minutes later we arrived at the world-renowned children's hospital and jumped out to hand the car keys to the valet. This was about when Kylie realized she'd left her very important carsick bag in, well, the car, so it was easier to puke on the ground and my shoes instead of getting the baggie. While everyone stared at us, I remember thinking - this is a hospital - you can't tell me my kid is the first to puke in the parking lot!
So that was how I found myself in the Emergency Department (ER is so passe' these days) with a sick kid, sweaty ponytail hair and puke on my shoes. We were quickly shown to a fast-track room, where the PA (physician's assistant) pronounced immediately that she was absolutely fine, he didn't think she had a concussion, but he would need a CT Scan to confirm it. Right-o. Two hours later he came back in with the ED attending physician in tow and they informed me that my daughter not only had a concussion, but had a small bruise on her brain. Huh. We had gone from a slightly-mocking "She's fine" to "She'll need to stay at least overnight and possibly longer for observation."
What followed was a whirlwind two days of tests, blood draws, tears (Kylie's and mine), text messages, phone calls and attempts at deep, calming breathing. Kylie was attached to all the fancy monitors, and as I tried to explain to her what each thing was for, why she was getting an MRI, what was happening when the nurse was putting in her IV, I kept thinking, "Seriously? This isn't really happening, is it?" And then I would catch a whiff of the puke on my shoes (yes, it took me forever to get it all off) and I would know that yes, it was happening.
As always, God is Good. Eventually the neurologist determined that the "bruise" on her brain was not, in fact, a bruise, but instead a blocked vein around the outside of her brain. Still slightly freaky, but we've been assured that although rare, sometimes this kind of thing does happen due to trauma. The hope is that other veins will eventually form to take the place of the one that is blocked. There are still some concerns about how and why the vein became blocked, but essentially, once she recovers from the concussion, she will be fine.
It has been almost a week since the hospital visit and we're still working through the symptoms of post-concussion syndrome. Fatigue, nausea and vomiting are the norm, although it still floors me to see my daughter puking her guts out and then five minutes later have her ask for a fruit roll-up.
Once again I've been shown that we are oh-so-blessed by not only our family (thank you Stacey for coming over to help with only the clothes on your back!) but also the many "friends who are family" here in our adopted hometown. Sunday I was driving home from church and realized I didn't have to make my usual stop at the gas station as I still had a half tank of gas left after a full week. It made me take stock of all the people who had picked up my kids from school, sports activities and other events, and the many other people who had offered to help and of course, said a pray for Kylie.
I don't really know how we would've handled all of this without them.
Hugs & God Bless,
Beverly
It has been almost a week since the hospital visit and we're still working through the symptoms of post-concussion syndrome. Fatigue, nausea and vomiting are the norm, although it still floors me to see my daughter puking her guts out and then five minutes later have her ask for a fruit roll-up.
Once again I've been shown that we are oh-so-blessed by not only our family (thank you Stacey for coming over to help with only the clothes on your back!) but also the many "friends who are family" here in our adopted hometown. Sunday I was driving home from church and realized I didn't have to make my usual stop at the gas station as I still had a half tank of gas left after a full week. It made me take stock of all the people who had picked up my kids from school, sports activities and other events, and the many other people who had offered to help and of course, said a pray for Kylie.
I don't really know how we would've handled all of this without them.
Hugs & God Bless,
Beverly
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