The next morning, with few hours (or was it minutes?) of sleep, I got Catherine ready for preschool knowing full well that I had to tell the day care that I dropped my youngest daughter on her head. Catherine took her time and frankly, I was not going to rush her. When we got to daycare, they asked where Christina was. With tears in my eyes, I explained what happened and that she was at Chidren`s Hospital. They were all concern and asked me if I was OK. I didn`t answer just shaking my head. I left Catherine, leaving embarassed and ready to cry. I called work to let them know I would not be there. After I explained what happened, they told me to take care of myslef.
I drove to Boston. I got there fairly fast, missing rush hour. I got there and was received with a giant smile by Christina. That meant the world to me. After a few minutes, I realized she was fine. I had brought a change of clothes for her and some stuff for my wife. After being told she would be discharged, we were visited by a `technician`about how to properly fasten a seatbelt on a babyseat. That was pretty embarassing but I also felt anger for the first time.
We were discharged a few hours later (2-3 hours after being told we would be discharged). While waiting, we spoke to our roomies who had a 4 week old with spina bifida. This made me realize how lucky we were to have healthy girls. I also though about our friends`child who had a heart procedure there a year or so to the day we were there...again realizing our luck that we lived near one of the best Children`s Hospital in the world.
Christina has been great since then. There seems to be no long-term effects of what happened on her. I jokingly tell people she is doing better than I am...if only it was a joke. I have been still struggling with some flashbacks. I still think I am the worse father in the world. Believe me, I got many encouraging statements from others, but nothing is resonating to be perfectly honest.
Some have said to me that they also dropped their kids on their 'blank'...frankly that is not helpful...made me feel like they did not ackowledge what I was going through. It seems like it minimized it and made me feel worse for feeling so bad. I know it was meant as helpful but it wasn`t. If you are a friend and recognize yourself, I hope yu are not offended by this statement. I just want to be honest. Empathy may have been better received. A specific person told me "Don`t you work on a crisis team? Shouldn`t you be able to handle this?". That was one of the most frustrating statement I heard. I wanted to do something to them. And no, it was not said in a joke. I also feel not very manly not being able to get "over it".
I also have a memory that has been hard to erase. There was a man sitting on a bench talking on a cell phone at the restaurant when Christina fell on her head. This guy saw everything happen and never stopped his conversation or offered to help. Sometimes I get angry, sometimes I get sad, but mostly I want to find this man and ask him why he did not offer any assistance. I guess people don`t know how to react but come on...I couldn`t let this situation go on in front of my eyes without doing something. I just wish I could talk to this guy.
One other statement that I have heard is the following: "Because you are upset, that shows how much you are a great dad". I feel really sad when I hear that. All I can tell myself when I hear this is "If I was really a good dad, I would have never, ever forgotten to strap my child in". I am hard on myself maybe.
I have spoken to an EAP therapist twice. I am getting ready to go into more counseling and/or EMDR very soon. Maybe that will help. I have been eating more and still sleeping restlessly. There are some flashback moments still. I am unhappy with many things in my life right now but unsure why. I feel like I am going crazy sometimes. And the one thing I don`t want is pity. I have had enough of that, but if you ask me what I need and what I have learned, I struggle to find that answer...
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Feeling horrible about things (part two)
So we now know that Christina must go to Children's hospital after they do a CT scan and find blood on her brain. The guilt just shot through me. At that point, we don't know the quantity or anything, we are told she needs to go to Children's because they are specialized on this subject. Now, I cannot react to much, as Catherine is now with us and any type of bad reaction (i.e. crying, getting upset) I know will affect her. We tell her that Christina needs to go in the ambulance to another hospital to make sure everything is OK. Inside me, I want to die. Literally.
So they get Christina ready for the ambulance ride by putting in a line for an IV "in case". Again, my heart sinks. If you know my Christina, she is a little pudgy baby so finding a vein is hard. So I take Catherine for a walk after the first scream and cry from Christina. I walk her around the ER and outside the hospital. I can hear Christina yell and scream and cry anywhere we go. Catherine is asking tons of questions and I try to answer her:
Catherine: "Will we go in the ambulance? "
Me: "No"
Catherine: "Why?"
Me: "Because there isn't enough space but we will drive there in my car?"
Catherine: "Is she OK?"
Me: "She'll be OK. It is a great hospital." Inside, I am feeling like the biggest failure in the world.
Well, we walk around for what felt like 2 hours. It was about 20 minutes. Christina is screaming bloody murder.
Catherine: "Are they hurting Christina?"
Me: "No, they are trying to make sure she'll be OK." In my head, I'm thinking IV=bad news.
Catherine: "I want to go see her."
Me: "Let's wait"
We finally go in and hey got the IV in. Christina smiles at me and her sister...but inside I still feel horrible. Christina, through all this, seems to get back to her normal self, appearing tired but smiling and wanting to nurse. She was doing much better but I certainly was getting worse.
We bring the car seat to the stretcher. And if you have ever seen that site, it makes you sad. It did for me. We kiss Christina and my wife and we get ready to go to my car. Catherine is crying, wanting to be with her sister. I am so proud she cares so much for her sister and I want to punish myself for putting both of them through this stuff.
We get to the car and get ready to drive. I get some DD for us, Catherine forgetting a little what was going on, enjoying her munchkins. I call my mom and cry like a little baby on the phone. My mom could not understand me for the first few minutes. My mom, the great coach that she is, reminds me that I need to stay strong for everyone. She makes me feel OK about this incident for a few minutes and the pep talks works.
We drive to Boston, Catherine falls asleep on the way. In my head, I am going through many scenarios, including long-term hospitalization, brain trauma injury, and anything else in between. I also worry about telling others, feeling ashamed and embarrassed, even letting a good friend at work know: "Don't tell anyone about this". I finally proved that I was a bad parent.
We get to the ER and she is in the "neurological" ER room. We wait for about an hour. We try to keep everyone entertain, playing peekaboo and playing with the toys in their diaper bag, as well as a toy the ER staff provided. We also get some food. Catherine gets the food with me and we see cool things, like fish, a ball display, a waterfall. Catherine is getting tired and struggling. This whole incident has probably had an effect on her. I decide to post a little note about Christina on Facebook, after my wife did so. I am feeling embarassed but I figured I would let people know. Maybe their comforting would help me. The doctor finally comes in and without really looking at Christina, he says: "We'll keep her overnight". Panicked, I start asking questions:
Me: "How much blood is on the brain?"
Dr. "Just a little but it is procedure to keep them overnight."
Me: "Is there any other damage?"
Dr.: "There is no concussion or cracked skull"
Me: "How long will she be here?"
Dr.: "If nothing changes in her behavior, she will be discharged tomorrow. We feel like it is better to keep her here than if she starts throwing up or any other negative symptoms and have you drive back all the way to Boston."
My instinct is that this is my mistake I should stay. My wonderful talks some sense to me and lets me know that I cannot nurse Christina. I drive back with Catherine to our home, and on the way, I ask Catherine if she has any questions and let her process everything. On the drive home, as I answer some Catherine questions, my head and my heart are racing and I am feeling like the worse person in the world.
As I put Catherine to bed, I hold her really tight, and try to keep my head from exploding. I stay with her until she falls asleep. As I stay up late, I am happy a friend called and checked on me and asked me how I was doing. I hold back my true feelings. I go to bed, the bed feeling really big, the house feeling empty without Christina and my wife. I sleep a couple of hours, if that, my head racing, reliving the exact moment I dropped my Christina and unable to take those images and sounds out of my head. I think I am losing my mind.
So they get Christina ready for the ambulance ride by putting in a line for an IV "in case". Again, my heart sinks. If you know my Christina, she is a little pudgy baby so finding a vein is hard. So I take Catherine for a walk after the first scream and cry from Christina. I walk her around the ER and outside the hospital. I can hear Christina yell and scream and cry anywhere we go. Catherine is asking tons of questions and I try to answer her:
Catherine: "Will we go in the ambulance? "
Me: "No"
Catherine: "Why?"
Me: "Because there isn't enough space but we will drive there in my car?"
Catherine: "Is she OK?"
Me: "She'll be OK. It is a great hospital." Inside, I am feeling like the biggest failure in the world.
Well, we walk around for what felt like 2 hours. It was about 20 minutes. Christina is screaming bloody murder.
Catherine: "Are they hurting Christina?"
Me: "No, they are trying to make sure she'll be OK." In my head, I'm thinking IV=bad news.
Catherine: "I want to go see her."
Me: "Let's wait"
We finally go in and hey got the IV in. Christina smiles at me and her sister...but inside I still feel horrible. Christina, through all this, seems to get back to her normal self, appearing tired but smiling and wanting to nurse. She was doing much better but I certainly was getting worse.
We bring the car seat to the stretcher. And if you have ever seen that site, it makes you sad. It did for me. We kiss Christina and my wife and we get ready to go to my car. Catherine is crying, wanting to be with her sister. I am so proud she cares so much for her sister and I want to punish myself for putting both of them through this stuff.
We get to the car and get ready to drive. I get some DD for us, Catherine forgetting a little what was going on, enjoying her munchkins. I call my mom and cry like a little baby on the phone. My mom could not understand me for the first few minutes. My mom, the great coach that she is, reminds me that I need to stay strong for everyone. She makes me feel OK about this incident for a few minutes and the pep talks works.
We drive to Boston, Catherine falls asleep on the way. In my head, I am going through many scenarios, including long-term hospitalization, brain trauma injury, and anything else in between. I also worry about telling others, feeling ashamed and embarrassed, even letting a good friend at work know: "Don't tell anyone about this". I finally proved that I was a bad parent.
We get to the ER and she is in the "neurological" ER room. We wait for about an hour. We try to keep everyone entertain, playing peekaboo and playing with the toys in their diaper bag, as well as a toy the ER staff provided. We also get some food. Catherine gets the food with me and we see cool things, like fish, a ball display, a waterfall. Catherine is getting tired and struggling. This whole incident has probably had an effect on her. I decide to post a little note about Christina on Facebook, after my wife did so. I am feeling embarassed but I figured I would let people know. Maybe their comforting would help me. The doctor finally comes in and without really looking at Christina, he says: "We'll keep her overnight". Panicked, I start asking questions:
Me: "How much blood is on the brain?"
Dr. "Just a little but it is procedure to keep them overnight."
Me: "Is there any other damage?"
Dr.: "There is no concussion or cracked skull"
Me: "How long will she be here?"
Dr.: "If nothing changes in her behavior, she will be discharged tomorrow. We feel like it is better to keep her here than if she starts throwing up or any other negative symptoms and have you drive back all the way to Boston."
My instinct is that this is my mistake I should stay. My wonderful talks some sense to me and lets me know that I cannot nurse Christina. I drive back with Catherine to our home, and on the way, I ask Catherine if she has any questions and let her process everything. On the drive home, as I answer some Catherine questions, my head and my heart are racing and I am feeling like the worse person in the world.
As I put Catherine to bed, I hold her really tight, and try to keep my head from exploding. I stay with her until she falls asleep. As I stay up late, I am happy a friend called and checked on me and asked me how I was doing. I hold back my true feelings. I go to bed, the bed feeling really big, the house feeling empty without Christina and my wife. I sleep a couple of hours, if that, my head racing, reliving the exact moment I dropped my Christina and unable to take those images and sounds out of my head. I think I am losing my mind.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Feeling horrible about things (part one)
I have been wanting to write for the past three weeks but it's just been a struggle. First things first: I was probably sick for the whole month of March. My doctor, after the third (yes, that is correct) set of medications finally figured out what I needed. At first, it was walking pneumonia, then it was my asthma getting worse, and finally it was a bacteria in my throat. The third time's the charm I guess. Let's just say that March has been difficult physically. I coughed a lot, I had trouble breathing, my energy levels were down, and I had trouble sleeping.
At first, my sleep was difficult due to trouble breathing: I would wake up coughing, out of breath, or even choking. However, another event really rocked me, and to this day, it has been giving me trouble sleeping, has given me flashbacks, and to relive the moment on a regular, daily basis. I am writing this and I am cringing and struggling with even thinking about writing about it. On St-Patrick's day, around 1PM, I, Catherine, and Christina were leaving Chicago Uno's after lunch. I transported Christina in her baby seat back to the car, Catherine in tow. Once at the car, I remembered that I should ask the toddler if she needs to go to the bathroom. You know how that could be once on the way to somewhere.When I did ask her, she said she needed to go.
I get her out of her seat. I went to Christina's side and lift the baby seat out of the holder and as I do that...Christina comes out of the seat head first to the cement in the parking lot. The seat must have been 3-4 feet from the ground. I got to admit that the "tud" it made when she hit the ground...it still haunts me daily...I hear that noise 2-4 times a day and I cringe. The first thing she did was cry, which, in a weird way, made me feel good. I put her back in her seat and yelled at Catherine to get in the car. Catherine, now crying, asked me where we were going, I told her to the hospital. She cried louder, thinking she was going to the hospital. I told her it was for Christina.
Christina is crying and I am a mess at this point. Catherine yells "Don't forget her shoe!". Her shoe had fallen off and was in the parking lot. I pick it up, throw it in the car, Catherine is crying, Christina is yelling and I am having trouble talking and breathing. I decide at that point that I am rushing to the Milford ER. I am one town over. I call a buddy of mine who is a detective. Barely able to talk clearly, I ask him for help. He does not understand me. While driving, I take a deep breath and tell him what happen. He told me to wait for the ambulance. I tell him I am already on the way to the hospital and maybe meeting me half way would help. I keep an eye on Christina, who is crying. My buddy says OK and will drive his vehicle my way.
Suddenly, Christina stops crying. She looks slumped. My heart sinks. I yell to Catherine: "Talk to your sister" "Is she awake?". Catherine, now stops crying, says "She's awake". I tell her to talk to her to keep her awake. To this day, I am extremely impressed how she reacted to my behavior and this emergency.
I call my wife via her work. I ask the secretary to break into her session NOW! I feel bad I was not polite. When my wife answers, I am sobbing, not able to make coherent sentences and she tells me to calm down. After a minute, I tell her Christina was dropped on her head and to meet me at the Milford ER. She hangs up as my buddy is calling on the other line.
I talk to him and he asks me where I am while I continue to tell Catherine to keep Christina busy. He finally locates me and gives me an escort to the Milford ER. My buddy takes care of Catherine while I rush in with Christina and they seemed to know what happened. They take her in right away. My calm demeanor, which I usually display in other people's crisis, is now gone. I am asked my phone number: "I don't know" and then proceed to give the phone number to the ER I work at sometimes. I am unable to give any info coherently. Christina has already calmed down and is no longer crying. I am comforted by many staff at the Milford ER and I am crying like a baby. I am just so messed up. Christina is smiling and charming everyone. She has a huge bump on the left side of her head and I cry looking at it and, to this day, my eyes water when I think about this lump.
My wife gets there and takes her in her arms. Christina seems so comfortable. I, on the other hand, feel like a bad father. I also feel like I failed my wife. I feel like I yelled at Catherine and did not help her at all understand what happened. I am grateful for my buddy. I am grateful for the staff at the ER. I am grateful for the support from the boys in blue. My wife was supportive. Me? I wanted to die. How could I let this happen? Why didn't I secure her? I was so down on myself. I still am. I feel horrible. All preliminary tests are normal. They do a CT scan...oh oh...blood on the brain...we need to transport her via ambulance to Children's Hospital...
At first, my sleep was difficult due to trouble breathing: I would wake up coughing, out of breath, or even choking. However, another event really rocked me, and to this day, it has been giving me trouble sleeping, has given me flashbacks, and to relive the moment on a regular, daily basis. I am writing this and I am cringing and struggling with even thinking about writing about it. On St-Patrick's day, around 1PM, I, Catherine, and Christina were leaving Chicago Uno's after lunch. I transported Christina in her baby seat back to the car, Catherine in tow. Once at the car, I remembered that I should ask the toddler if she needs to go to the bathroom. You know how that could be once on the way to somewhere.When I did ask her, she said she needed to go.
I get her out of her seat. I went to Christina's side and lift the baby seat out of the holder and as I do that...Christina comes out of the seat head first to the cement in the parking lot. The seat must have been 3-4 feet from the ground. I got to admit that the "tud" it made when she hit the ground...it still haunts me daily...I hear that noise 2-4 times a day and I cringe. The first thing she did was cry, which, in a weird way, made me feel good. I put her back in her seat and yelled at Catherine to get in the car. Catherine, now crying, asked me where we were going, I told her to the hospital. She cried louder, thinking she was going to the hospital. I told her it was for Christina.
Christina is crying and I am a mess at this point. Catherine yells "Don't forget her shoe!". Her shoe had fallen off and was in the parking lot. I pick it up, throw it in the car, Catherine is crying, Christina is yelling and I am having trouble talking and breathing. I decide at that point that I am rushing to the Milford ER. I am one town over. I call a buddy of mine who is a detective. Barely able to talk clearly, I ask him for help. He does not understand me. While driving, I take a deep breath and tell him what happen. He told me to wait for the ambulance. I tell him I am already on the way to the hospital and maybe meeting me half way would help. I keep an eye on Christina, who is crying. My buddy says OK and will drive his vehicle my way.
Suddenly, Christina stops crying. She looks slumped. My heart sinks. I yell to Catherine: "Talk to your sister" "Is she awake?". Catherine, now stops crying, says "She's awake". I tell her to talk to her to keep her awake. To this day, I am extremely impressed how she reacted to my behavior and this emergency.
I call my wife via her work. I ask the secretary to break into her session NOW! I feel bad I was not polite. When my wife answers, I am sobbing, not able to make coherent sentences and she tells me to calm down. After a minute, I tell her Christina was dropped on her head and to meet me at the Milford ER. She hangs up as my buddy is calling on the other line.
I talk to him and he asks me where I am while I continue to tell Catherine to keep Christina busy. He finally locates me and gives me an escort to the Milford ER. My buddy takes care of Catherine while I rush in with Christina and they seemed to know what happened. They take her in right away. My calm demeanor, which I usually display in other people's crisis, is now gone. I am asked my phone number: "I don't know" and then proceed to give the phone number to the ER I work at sometimes. I am unable to give any info coherently. Christina has already calmed down and is no longer crying. I am comforted by many staff at the Milford ER and I am crying like a baby. I am just so messed up. Christina is smiling and charming everyone. She has a huge bump on the left side of her head and I cry looking at it and, to this day, my eyes water when I think about this lump.
My wife gets there and takes her in her arms. Christina seems so comfortable. I, on the other hand, feel like a bad father. I also feel like I failed my wife. I feel like I yelled at Catherine and did not help her at all understand what happened. I am grateful for my buddy. I am grateful for the staff at the ER. I am grateful for the support from the boys in blue. My wife was supportive. Me? I wanted to die. How could I let this happen? Why didn't I secure her? I was so down on myself. I still am. I feel horrible. All preliminary tests are normal. They do a CT scan...oh oh...blood on the brain...we need to transport her via ambulance to Children's Hospital...
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