Follow by Email

Friday, January 30, 2015

Deciding 911 or not

I cradled Cody's head in my arms.  Not sure just what to do next.  He did not appear to be seriously injured.  But I felt fear slowly surrounding me.  Closing in on  me as  though it was  desperately trying to swallow me.

My eyes darted up to my sister Marie and then back to my son, who laid dazed in my arms.  We needed no words to share in our  jumbled emotions, that challenged our rationale.  As if our minds were one, we both knew how serious the situation was.

My hand gently stroked through Cody's hair. Carefully I felt for any bumps, or worse bleeding.  Shock and fear absorbed him as he looked up into my face.  I fought hard to not let panic prevent me from addressing the immediate attention Cody needed.  He seemed to be in shock.  Almost immediately told me the room was spinning.  With my finger tips I could feel a bump already forming on the back of his head.  We knew we had to get him up from the floor, but how?  Moving him gently  was a rather large concern for us.  If he had injured his neck or back transporting  him might not be the best thing. If lifting him was not problem enough, the vomiting that had started heightened the seriousness of the situation.  We now had  to position Cody in such a way that he would not exasperate on his own stomach secretions.

We were two and a half hours from the city and the specialist who new Cody so well.  The nearest hospital was 40 minutes from us.  It was becoming dark, cold and raining.  The wet dirt drive way that lead to my parked van also added to the list of  elements  working against us.  I would have to push both chairs through mud  to get Cody and Josiah  inside my van.  If you have never had to push 150 pounds of flesh and another added 35 pounds (which was the weight of my sons wheel chair) through rough terrain, sand, or mud, you can not even begin to imagine the strength it takes for a 110 pound female.  To add to our anxiety and fear,  my sister was scheduled to fly out of the country in just 36 hours. If I  ever needed a clone it was now.

 On top of all that was happening, my sister was also recovering from a back strain, that prevented her from lifting either of my sons.  That made me  the only one that was capable to  safely lift Josiah, who needed neck support whenever being transported or lifted . I looked over to where Josiah sat, watching us from  his chair, and then back to Marie.  I just could not leave her alone to care for Josiah with things the way they were.   I looked at the clock and back to Cody, his head still cradled in my hands.  His color appeared to be coming back sightly and his eyes were now focused on me.  My throat felt dry as the tears I had been holding back, slowly dissolved.   Even if I  called for an ambulance now how could I ride  with Cody to  the hospital and still transport Josiah.  I had the only vehicle capable of  transporting either of my sons home.   There simply was no other choice, I had to bring Josiah with me to the hospital even if it meant we would be there overnight with Cody, I would worry about details  later.

With  strength from Angels we managed to safely get Cody from the floor to the bed.  Carefully, we laid him out and searched him from head to toe.  He appeared to not be hurt any where other than his head.  Which he complained was pounding and causing him to feel dizzy.  I got him from the bed to his wheelchair as carefully as possible.  Once he was comfortable and slightly reclined we loaded him into my van.  With determination and strength, from a force somewhere with in we pulled into the hospital in relatively good time, where Cody was treated for a concussion.  With the vomiting finally under control he was released for home care a few hours later.  I was drained but more than that happy  Cody was going to be home with us. It would be a long night with keeping my eyes on him but I would not have to be separated from Josiah.  Three  hours later we were back at home.  My sister Marie would make her flight on time.

Later that night after my boys were resting comfortably and safely in bed, I  looked at the transport chair, that had caused Cody to tip  over backwards. Fear and anguish overwhelmed me.  The very thing that had made life easier for us- for me in transporting him, could have killed my son today. In spite of every effort I take  to keep both my sons safe, just one slip,  can literally be catastrophic.  I could feel the warm tears that I  held back earlier that day slowly  began to roll down my cheeks.  I looked down at the  monitor I held in my hand, that allowed my sons to call for me should they need me.  A soft voice whispered to me   "Cody would be fine and that was  all that mattered".

No comments:

Post a Comment