Little Boys

AJ was dressed in his “Bibleman” costume, playing yesterday , while Grace and I finished up her schoolwork. Suddenly, I heard a terrible crash, a thunk, and then silence. I jumped up and ran to the living room, to find AJ on the floor, quietly whimpering. I asked where he hurt, and he told me his head. I picked him up and laid him on our futon. At that point, his eyes began to roll back in his head in a faint. It terrified me. I called his name and he refocused his eyes on me. I picked him back up and sat with him in my recliner. I began to wonder what to do. I decided that since he had almost lost consciousness, this warranted a call to 911. I explained the operator what had happened and they sent an ambulance with 5 EMT’s to our home.

Meanwhile, Grace had gone to the freezer and grabbed a pack of frozen boca burgers for me to apply to his head, which had a large bump on it. She put our dogs in the backyard and opened the door and waited for the EMT’s to arrive. I was relieved to have her home, helping.
The EMT’s did a brief exam and told me that dilated eyes were a late sign of concussion, when I commented that they didn’t seem dilated. They recommended taking AJ to the ER and running a CAT scan on him, which I agreed to. I hesitated over whether to go in the ambulance, or whether to drive myself. AJ was lying very still on my lap, and I decided to let the ambulance drive us. I didn’t feel that I had the presence of mind to drive carefully, and I was afraid that he would pass out in the van and I wouldn’t know what to do.

So the EMT’s let Gracie ride in the front seat with them. They had me get on the stretcher with AJ and they carried us out. Grace let the dogs back inside and grabbed my purse and AJ’s shoes while an EMT waited for her. I didn’t actually see her get into the ambulance and I was a bit worried about her, but I was assured that she was there.

Upon our arrival, the doctor had a neck brace/collar put on AJ because he said the back of his neck hurt a little bit. He did NOT like it. The doctor thought that AJ would be able to lie still for a CAT scan and wanted to give him a chance to do so rather than sedating him. They let me go with him into the radiology room and initially, he kicked and cried and screamed and of course, the machine could not get accurate pictures. The procedure was halted, we unstrapped him, and the radiology tech talked to him. AJ told her he didn’t like wearing the neck brace. She encouraged him to try again, with the incentive that if he could lie still, we could remove the neck brace much sooner than if we had to wait for him to fall asleep. He agreed to be still. And they got the pictures they needed, including the neck scan. They had him all bundled up with rolled up towels next to head to secure it in place. All I could see of him, once they covered him with the radiology aprons, was his little face. I flashed back to when he was a newborn—his face looked the exact same. He lay on the table, trying to stay still, clutching the Coca-Cola polar bear the EMT gave him in the ambulance, with silent tears streaming down his face. I have never felt so helpless in all my life.

Terry was working, of course, and it took him about an hour to meet us at the hospital. Before he arrived, they did the CAT scan and one of the technicians waited with Grace in the hallway. She even gave Grace yogurt! (With my permission, of course) When we got back to our room, Terry was waiting. I was relieved to see him. I'd had to use the facilities for about an hour but couldn't figure out how to finagle a trip to the ladies' room without leaving the children alone, or bringing them with (and I hated to move AJ until we had the CAT scan results in). It was so good to have someone else to help make decisions and sign papers and to talk with. We even found "The Simpsons" on television, and my family enjoyed watching that while we waited.

Fortunately, the CAT scan showed no bleeding in his head. We were sent home with instructions to check on him every couple of hours through the night. As we were waiting for the discharge paperwork, we saw a mom, dad, and little boy with a bandage on his chin walk past our room. We nodded knowingly at them, and the mom nodded back at us as we exchanged, “Mother of Little Boys” glances. Upon our exit from the inner bowels of the hospital to the Emergency Room waiting room, people waiting for treatment began to smile at us. You see, AJ did not have pants on under his Bibleman costume, so he had to go home with either just his T-shirt and underpants and Crocs, or wearing his costume. We opted for the costume. I doubt anyone wondered which member of our family had been treated. I think the costume gave it all away.

It turns out that AJ placed one of our child-sized chairs on top of our child-sized table in an attempt to turn off the fan (which hangs from a high vaulted ceiling and he would have not been able to reach, regardless). He has agreed not to climb anymore inside the house, which is completely covered in tile flooring.

At his 4am check this morning (I just tiptoed in to make sure he was breathing,) AJ stirred and whined, “Don’t open the door, Mommy!” I quickly shut it and let him go back to sleep.
AJ went to preschool with a great story about riding in an ambulance and the bump on his noggin to show for it. He’s still getting a bit of Motrin today to manage the swelling and pain, but we’re so glad he’s okay. We’re treating the family to a dinner at Ryan’s Village Pizza and Pub in Cocoa Village tonight, and finishing our evening off with some playtime in the playground as a reward for Grace and all her help. And for her finally going to bed nicely. And just to spend time as a family.