Saturday, November 12, 2011

Dear Perspective

Dear Perspective,

You certainly have a way of giving us different views from different angles.  Characters within a book are entitled to their own perspectives, but the only person that can perceive all their perspectives is the reader, who can truly evaluate the story's relative significance as a whole.  

This week, my perspective changed dramatically from the eyes of a mom going about daily life to that of a mom with an injured child.  Now that Dear Son is recovering from his concussion, and as I consciously try to wade my way back to my original perspective, I find it a very difficult process.

The other night, DS was dancing by the dinner table to the moves of the Wii game, Just Dance.  He shook his booty and pumped his arms in circular motions this way and that while singing, "I like to move it, move it.  I like to move it, move it."   If you can imagine this, it would surely bring a smile to your face.  But just 24 hours prior to that dance, DS was in the ER, drifting in and out of consciousness between bouts of vomiting and getting a CT scan because he fell on the back of his head at school.

I first marveled at his speedy recovery, but then I marveled even more at the way my heart was strung on every ounce of the well-being of this kid.  I marveled at how inconsequential the daily trivial things have become since DS' accident.  Those silly little things I dwell on would mean nothing if my DS was not able to dance like a clown to the tune of Madagascar's hit soundtrack.

The very morning of the accident, the kids went to have their teeth cleaned and examined.  They both received a cavity-free report.  The dentist asked the routine questions of how much candy they eat and juice they drink.  She was surprised that I allowed them to eat candy.  At the time, I thought to myself, candy is fine in moderation, especially when they've never even had any cavities before.  But since the accident, I know I have been more generous than usual with candy to DS.  If the dentist or anyone judges me on that, then I know that person has probably never been with his or her child in the ambulance watching the paramedics flip the stretcher over with lightening speed as the child vomited from having suffered a head injury. 

DS' followup with his pediatrician was good.  He should take it easy for the next few weeks, as there is a very small chance of the need for a rescan if he gets any other concussion-related symptoms in the next 10 to 14 days.  Otherwise, the doctor thinks that he is going to be perfectly fine.

So here I am, with a child who had a head injury and has recovered, given the 2 to 3 week "caution period."  I just don't know how to relinquish him back into the real world come next week, when he has to go back to school and be out of my sight.  I am not going to be able to watch his enormous noggin all the time, or even be able to tell him to take it easy for the entire next 2 to 3 weeks.  Because every time I imagine how he fell, I get sick to my stomach.  I can only hope that he didn't really sense the pain because of amnesia from the concussion (he doesn't remember the fall or how it happened).  But that large bump on the back of his head tells it all...

But of course, I know that this perspective is the result of trauma as well as tunnel vision, and that I need to pull back and see the bigger picture.  I need to see things from all angles, and remember that feeding DS lots of candy is not generally a wise thing to do.  As I struggle to find my way back to normalcy, I am reminded by a very dear friend that I will eventually stop being paranoid about his every move.  I supposed time will help smooth out the wrinkles of telepathic pain between parent and the once sick or injured child.

So Perspective, please be patient with me while I diligently extract myself as a character within a book to become the reader of the book.  Show me your many views so that I can gain necessary balance for making wiser decisions.  Most of all, help me through this difficult period of keeping quiet and still an Energizer Bunny who just doesn't want to stop.



  1. Sandra, I have been to the ER multiple times, the scariest was when my son was 18 months with a collapsed lung lobe from asthma. Reading your post I can now explain the feeling I was having through the whole ordeal, like you, I felt I was part of a book. I was trying not to lose it, it seemed unreal.

    It gets easier with time, you will relax a little every day, but you will never be the same mother, the scar of the fear will always be there.

    I remember like it was yesterday the feeling I had when my son was a newborn, I was nursing him and I broke into tears thinking that I had created a human being who could get hurt one day, and could possibly die, and how crazy of me to do that, how selfish. He has been hurt many times, so has my daughter, luckily not in a serious way. The worry will never be over, now I worry about other things, the teen years looming ahead.

    I hope he is okay, keep us posted.

  2. Laura, You are right: I will never stop worrying. The 2 days after the accident I got so depressed, feeling the exact same way you described when your son was a newborn. I guess the mental wound was so new and so raw that feeling like that was inevitable. I supposed this is part of the challenge of being parents, and probably one of the worst parts. I'm sure most parents feel this one at one point or another.

    He is okay now, but my heart continues to skip a beat each time he says he has a headache or gets sleepy and naps. These are all normal healing processes, but they freak me out. I really wish this 3 weeks period comes and goes quickly and uneventfully!

  3. Dear Energizer Bunny,
    You are doing just fine. Having been a trauma nurse you acted wisely and graciously under a lot of pressure.

  4. Holy cats, how scary! Wow. I've gotten the calls from the nurses, which always make my heart start beating faster, but they preface it with "but everything's ok" - I'm guessing you didn't get that part, did you? SO glad he's ok now!

  5. Michelle, Believe it or not, I got the exact same words from the nurse on the call, which I appreciated, since I didn't need to drive over in a state of panic. But, the scary symptoms didn't start until I got there anyway... But in the end, he's fine, and I'm so grateful.