We have been accident free for a little over then one month. It has been a blissful month free of trips to the ER, no 9-1-1 calls since November, and no emergency doctor visits either. It has been a good month.
This morning I exited the bath, wrapped in a skimpy towel, and entered my parent's guest room to dress myself for the day. Lola skipped through the door and claimed she was a baby. "Call me baby Lola, Mama." I played along and placed her in Fifi's crib and managed to moisturize one of my legs with the new fancy lotion I received on Christmas.
Lola stood up in Fifi's crib and the crib on wheels, probably Made in China, rolled away from the wall and Lola fell backwards onto her head.
I ran to her, just a few feet away, and swept her into my arms. "BREATH. BREATH. LOLA take a breath!!!!" I screamed, very aware of what has happened to her in the past. Lola has holding breath syndrome and although it is not life threatening it is very scary for the parent holding a lifeless child.
Lola is stiff in my arms. Not breathing. She bends her head back. I only see the whites of her eyes. She starts to tremble. "BREATH. BREATH. BREATH." I yell at her gently pushing aside her blond locks and staring into the whites of her eyes. "BREEEEEAAAAATHHHHH!!" I am running down the stairs trying to find my mother. I am trying to get her to breath. She is shaking and so stiff. She feels like a log. I am holding my lifeless daughter in my arms. I think about calling 9-1-1, but wait. "BRRRRRREEEEATHHHHHHHHHHH. Lola. Come on. Breath!" I lay her on my mother's bed and shake her head a little and she begins to cry.
I am with Lola for an hour. I observe her. She is pale. She denies a lollipop. She is tired. She denies PEZ candy. She is pale. She vomits. "Mom, I am going to the ER." I look at my Mom and she nods and gathers up the other two kids.
Lola and I drive to the ER and Lola drifts in and out of sleep. I try to keep her up. I pray to God for him to take my arm, or leg, or my life just to keep her safe. I think about her bleeding internally. "Stay awake, Lola. My sweet Lola... stay awake... let's go to Target and buy a Barbie movie." I think about her being ill forever. I think about... everything and try to do anything to keep her awake. "Stay awake.... I will buy you some more candy."
We arrive. The nurse checks her over initially in the waiting room. Her vitals are fine. They give us room number 4 and we make ourselves comfortable. They let her sleep a little, administer some other tests, she sleeps some more, and they send in more tests. We are sent down to the basement of the hospital for a scan. I am holding her hand as we make our way through the catacombs of the basement and she says, "When we are done, you remember, you said you will buy me a Barbie movie." I exhaled a little, that was my first sign from above that she would be okay.
After hours of waiting. Hours of tests. Hours of wondering if my life will ever be the same. The results from the scan come back to show she is fine and suffered a mild concussion. Lola received an orange Popsicle. They schooled me on what symptoms I should look for today and the diet she should follow for the next 24 hours.
We were allowed to leave and I drove to the nearest Target. We entered. She vomited the orange Popsicle. We came home with some Tylenol, pretzels, a new Barbie movie, and some very dirty clothes. She vomited some more.
Tonight I will be praying for the same things: a happy and healthy family. However, I think I will add an addendum tonight... and ask God for a life full of uneventful days. I hope he gets our memo tonight.
Uneventful days are good days.