Life as it is, can be crazy, even for a crazy person, such as myself. I get to use the phrase "every mother's nightmare" and expand on it, not really exciting but more of a landmark. At some time in your life, if you have children, you will most likely be exposed to a trauma or fear or circumstance that just blows you out of the water. I have had a few close scrapes and my mini panic attacks about them, but nothing as severe as what happened last Friday.
I had just declined watching my son's children. I was tired, and I didn't sleep well the night before. I felt bad for it too, I love the little buggers but sometimes they require a bit more energy than I feel I can muster when I know they are on their way. I was thinking about arranging the weekend so my son could get as many hours as he wanted Saturday and Sunday, but that Friday I really just needed and wanted to relax. Of course, as Fate would have it, my scheduled activities were on a very opposite course.
I got the call while I was listening to my ambient music. Listening to it is something I love to do when I am writing or relaxing and just want a little mental alone time or to clear my head. The call was from a number I did not recognize and hesitated to answer it. On the other side of the line was a frantic woman, who sounded like she was on the edge of horrified. That of course this piqued my interest right away, I sat straight up in my bed. She said she was calling for Chris' mom and that he already had her call his work and that he had been at an accident and he looked hurt but was doing okay. Of course at that point I heard a male voice groan from the background of her phone call.
I thought I would feel blood draining from my face or a little woozy or even extreme panic, like a chicken running around with it's head cut off, but I didn't. I knew it was close to him going to work, but I had to make sure if there the kids were in the vehicle with him. I felt like I was stumbling over the words and not explaining my question well enough but I heard her ask in the back ground to someone groaning if there were kids in the car. I could hear his voice before she relayed the message, 'no they were at home being watched'. I don't remember what she said and could not think of anything else to say so I told her thank you for helping him out and let him know I will be at the emergency room waiting for him.
It was a blur of grabbing charging cords and having my middle son start up the car, I told my husband what had happened. He knew I needed to get out of the house and on my way to see our son ASAP. Knowing I needed gas didn't even phase me in choosing to go to the ER first. I knew I could worry about the tank later, the most important thing was to be there for my son, and to know that he was okay.
I saw two ambulances at the bay doors at the hospital but had figured I had beat his ride by a long shot. I knew he had not been loaded in a vehicle when the good Samaritan had called. With my luck I had a wait. I checked in at the front desk, and a very kind and motherly women made sure to take down my son's name and date of birth so she could direct me to his room when he got there. As I chose my seat I looked for one that faced the Ambulance Bay doors and watched as the two red trucks were cleaned up and readied for their next trip out.
Of course, like the cool place it is, the Emergency Room intercom system piped it's alert messages not only to the back with the waiting personal and staff, but to were us poor saps who sit and wait get to hear it. I heard an ETA of 4 minutes and was comforted that my wait would be just a short while longer. I was agitated and anxious about the alert code and what it meant for injury level and staff readiness. To my undying thanks the motherly women was watching out for me and came right over and explained as much information as she could about the nature of his injury and what his status was, from the information she got from the attending EMT. I was comforted and worried but not nearly as so if she had not been so kind.
It didn't take long for her to usher me in to his room after he was wheeled in. And oh what a site, blood and bandages caught my attention but I quickly looked away. I didn't want to loose it or become faint, not that I believed I would, I just didn't want any complications for what my job was here: to be there for my son.
The sweet women who lead me in warned me that he was going to look a mess but I let her know he was the 2nd oldest of 5, I had seen quite a bit of it all (though this was not even close to anything I had experienced before) and I think I would do fine. She seemed a bit relieved and impressed and left me at his room.
He noticed me right a way and smiled, I knew he would be okay if he could smile. He loves me unerringly and would smile when he walked in the door of my house, but his smile gave me a lot of comfort.
He was a mess, bits of glass were sparkling on his cheeks and in his hair, his left hand looked like it when through a window and probably had. His pillow held all sorts of dust and hair, and a couple of blood spots. But the star of the night was his lower leg. They had to keep it uncovered for the most part, to assess the wound and set up for mobile x-ray. And I tried my best not to look still fearing that it would be more than I could take. I kept talking with him, even making silly jokes like the ones him and I like to share, and when I felt he was truly himself and not suffering from some devastating organ injury I glanced at his break.
A compound fracture is a break of the bone that happens to exit the body through the skin to become expose to all manner of elements and contaminants. I won't go into detail, but I can say it's not everyday a parent can look at the actual bones inside their child's body without the help of an x-ray machine.
Maybe it's a morbid curiosity or just wanting to know what his status really was and what to expect next but I looked it over as closely as I could without getting in the way of anyone treating him. In fact I am impressed at my display of medical treatment ballet I have when working around medical personal. I could spin, move and sashay out of the way and be back to hold his hand in a heartbeat.
The worst of it is he is going to be healing for a very long time; the best of it is I have my son. He is not dead, I am not planning a funeral nor am I wondering about how much time will I get to spend with his children since he is separated from their mother. Those would be the worst. I got to live through every mother's nightmare and live to tell the tell. I know I am given all that which I can handle and I keep hoping I don't need to keep taking the next step, but I will take each step as I need to for each of my children, my own or grand. I don't want to live in any sort of nightmare but I will deal with it head on and do my best with it.
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