I should have been sitting next to him.
That’s all that’s been running though my head for about the last 90 minutes or so.
It was a pretty normal Thursday dinner. Ollie had already had some yogurt, but he had climbed up in a chair and was eating some pasta while all of us adults sat around and chatted. It was about 6pm.
Ollie was sitting a couple of chairs down from me. He decided to stand up, and turn around in his chair, so he was holding onto the back of the chair. I saw it. It was one of those slow motion things, I saw him stand there, and I saw him start tip forward, and I yelled his name. But I was too far away, and it happened so fast.
So he fell. No big deal, he’s become a climber, he falls sometimes. I mean, he fell, and it was a face first sort of thing. I suspect his fingers were pinched between the chair and the tile floor. He started crying right away, and I whisked him away to calm him down.
I couldn’t find anything wrong. Nothing broken, no bleeding, no sign of trauma. But he wouldn’t calm down. After a few minutes Bobby took him outside and walked him around. I finished my dinner. Bobby brought Ollie back in, and he was still crying. We checked him over again, and this time I did notice a small scratch or bruise under his chin. But nothing bleeding, nothing broken, no sign of trauma. Except he kept crying. I should have been sitting next to him.
We offered him a popsicle, we sung him songs, got him an ice pack, we put on Team Umi Zoomi, his favorite show. It had been about 15 minutes since his fall, and he kept crying. So I loaded him up in the car. I thought to myself, “He’s basically inconsolable, now what do I do?” To get home from Laura’s, I have to drive right past the Children’s hospital where we stayed when was just one week old and in ICU. “If he’s still crying when we pass the hospital, I’m just going to take him in.”
He cried louder. I pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. I was suddenly sick to my stomach with worry, knees shaking. I pulled him out of the car and attempted, one last time, to calm him. No luck. We walked inside. I should have been sitting next to him.
Ollie kept up crying, even as we walked in to the neat building, with the cool fountains for him to look at. He cried as the nurses took our information, and I tried to calm him, and tried to listen to directions with him crying. I could barely sign the paperwork, because he cried and clung to me. The entire front of my shirt was soaked in tears and snot. I struggled to stay calm. In my head, I was moving meetings, trying to figure out what to do about the wedding I am supposed to photograph this weekend. Debating time tables and admissions and all the other hospital things. In the waiting room, I apologize to the three adults and four children, explaining that I can’t get him to stop, that’s why I am here.
I pace with him, I rock him, I pet his head, I hold him close. I tell him how much I love him, how everything is going to be fine, and how wonderful he is. I try to stay calm and not freak out. I manage to keep my cool. I should have been sitting next to him.
Every once in a while, Ollie will pause in his tears to take a deep breath, and for a second I think he’ll stop, but he always starts up again. He’s been crying for close to 30 minutes now.
They call us back very quickly. The ask questions, and I explain. I explain briefly about his fever at one week old, his sepsis, his seizures, his almost death. I try not to let it affect me, I stay calm, I comfort my crying little Oliver. I should have been sitting next to him.
We get lead back to a room, and the nurses check him out. Oliver doesn’t like this, and it makes him cry more. He’s been crying for 45 minutes. The nurse brings him some Motrin, and we have to hold Ollie down and force him to take it. I think about the time I brought him to the ER when he wouldn’t eat and I feared dehydration, and how the doctor held him down and forced him to drink pedilite. I remember how we got to go home that night, how Ollie was fine that time. I hope this time is also fine.
The nurses leave me, telling me the doctor will be in soon. I pace the room, rocking Ollie, whispering sweet things to him, comforting him. He is still crying. I try various methods of distraction and things he likes. He keeps crying. An Admin comes into the room to take my insurance and credit payment. I managed to give her my card and sign more documents one handed. She leaves to take my $100 copayment. Ollie has now been crying for almost an hour. I should have been sitting next to him.
Finally, my third attempt to show him cold water running from the sink in the exam room grabs his interest. He sticks his hand under the stream of water, and after a minute, begins to calm down. An hour after he fell, an hour after the crying started, he finally calms down. For the next 10 minutes, I stand at the sink holding Ollie close to me. The admin returns and I sign my credit slip without getting it soaked or letting go of Oliver as he splashes in the water.
It takes three tries, but I manage to finally get him to leave the water without tears, and we sit on the bed together, watching some show on the TV with a dragon in it and a red haired princess.
The doctor finally arrives, and checks Oliver out. He finds nothing broken, no bleeding, no sign of trauma. He tells me that bringing him in was smart, but that he seems fine now. I’m cleared to take him home and put him to bed.
So we are home now. And I guess everything is fine.
I think I’m going to go have a good cry though.
I should have been sitting next to him.
The Chronicles of a Henchwoman 