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...
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