Tag Archives: worry

Living a Nightmare

When I talk to my friends that don’t have kids, I try to avoid the phrase “you can’t understand because you’re not a parent”, or some variation of it. It sets a negative connotation and implies that they are incapable of having deep feelings about someone or something they love. However, every parent knows; the biological connection you have to your children is like no other emotion or feeling you’ve ever had. It’s a bond that is difficult to put into words. It’s kind of like being overwhelmed by ocean waves that keep pushing you under the surface. Except instead of it being water that’s trying to drown you, it’s a sensation of relentless love and responsibility. Nothing in life is more important than the well-being of your child. Whether it be mental or physical, their comfort and security is a matter of the utmost importance. Simply put, there is nothing you wouldn’t do for them.

On Superbowl Sunday, we were busy getting ready for a small party of friends and family to come over and watch the game. Our little girls were outside playing on our quiet and traffic free dead-end street, one on her bike and the other on a scooter. We were keeping an eye on them and had already given them a 5-minute warning before they had to come inside and get cleaned up.

Mom was in the kitchen and I was busy searching for the constantly missing remote control. As I passed by the front door, I noticed the scooter was flipped upside down, but I didn’t think anything of it. The girls were out of my line of sight. Next, I heard faint screaming and our 16-year-old telling us that the kids were yelling. My wife came around the corner and went out the front door to inspect. I heard her yell my name in a state of panic. I looked up through the front window of the house to see Maddie lying on the ground motionless. I made a dash to the door, expecting my wife to tell me she had skinned her leg or maybe broken a bone. She started to scream for me to call 911 because she was unresponsive.

I sprinted across the yard to the street, attempting to dial 911, and assess the situation. When I got to Maddie’s side, her eyes were rolled into the back of her head and she wasn’t waking up. Sarah continued to call out her name and try to get a response. At this point, I am absolutely frantic. I could hear my own heart beating. It’s hard to keep your composure and give details to an emergency dispatcher while seeing your first-born child lying lifelessly on the concrete.

Maddie finally opened her eyes and started to slowly come around. She looked very confused and disoriented. It was a momentary sigh of relief, as we still weren’t out the woods yet. She was complaining that her spine hurt. I laid on my stomach and took Maddie’s hand while Sarah stood over her and held her head straight until paramedics got there. It felt like an eternity, even though they were there within a few minutes. I asked Mo to squeeze my finger, which she firmly did, and then refused to let go. She was also able to wiggle her toes and feet. All great signs so far. Thankfully, she was wearing her helmet, so there did not appear to be any trauma to the head.

The paramedics arrived and quickly went into action. In addition to them, there were 3 cop cars and a second fire unit. It probably looked like a bit of overkill from the neighbor’s point of view, but it made me feel better that we had the entire emergency response team in Lambertville right in front of our house.

Maddie was put into a neck brace and thoroughly looked over. They loaded her into the ambulance to get her out of the cold and finish checking her out. Thankfully, one of the paramedics let me climb in with her to help keep her calm and relaxed. I told her I would never leave her side, no matter what.

After a few minutes of observation and passing all of their tests, they concluded that she likely just had the wind knocked out of her and her body went into a ‘reset’ mode. Her blood pressure, heart rate, and oxygen levels were all right where they should be, as well as her lungs sounding perfect. They examined her back and couldn’t find any contusions or anything out of place. Thank God!

I would like to take a moment to give huge props and a thank you to the amazing 911 dispatcher for his composure and steadfast support. These folks do not get enough credit for the job they do. Considering the majority of people they talk to on a daily basis, are ones that are experiencing terrible and even life threatening problems. Your invaluable work has not gone unnoticed.

To the first responders; thank you for your quick actions and for keeping our Maddie-Mo comfortable and safe. Your reassurance and knowledge were so very helpful in putting all of our minds at ease and allowing us to start breathing again.

Later in the evening as I was reflecting on the day, I couldn’t help but be extremely thankful for the family I have been blessed with. Everyone did their part to make sure Maddie was tended to properly. Laura screaming for help, Aislynn bringing Mo a blanket, Ashley making calls to other family members and then taking care of Laura, and my wife for remaining composed and holding our little one’s head from moving around. Everyone made me very proud that day.

We kept Maddie home the next day and let her get some extra rest. She is doing well and you wouldn’t even know there was a problem. This all could’ve been so much worse; had she not been wearing her helmet. I know kids don’t like to wear them, but please don’t let them do these sorts of activities without one. It could easily be the difference between life and death or paralysis.

Fatherhood

Anyone that knows me, knows that I love my kids more than life itself. I feel as though I have failed in many areas, but not in fatherhood. I’m a great dad. I wear it as a badge of honor. I’m proud of that accomplishment. It feels second nature to me. It’s not a hard concept. Play with them, feed them, hold them when they cry, teach them, talk to them on their level, be stern when needed, but do so with love and compassion. That’s not to say that parenting is easy. It’s certainly not for the faint of heart. It’s exhausting and painful. It is unrewarding and often times feels like too much to handle.

Last night, all of us went in separate directions with various activities. With 4 kids, this tends to happen a lot. The 16-year-old had a choir concert at the school, so mom and the 5-year-old went to that. I love seeing her perform, but it gets so packed and it’s hard to get all of us into the small auditorium. The oldest kid was off having dinner with her grandparents after helping with some chores at their house. I decided to take my 8-year-old out for a little 1 on 1 daddy/daughter time.

Ever since my wife was battling cancer, Mo (8) sees a school counselor once a week, sometimes every other week. She really enjoys it. Gives her someone to talk to without fear. The counselor then will relay messages to us as she sees fit. Yesterday we received an email with a status update. She said that our daughter was definitely holding on to a lot of stress and suggested that we keep things as positive for her as possible. She tends to hold everything back and bury it down deep. Occasionally, I can get her to open up. I figured a little dinner with just the two of us would help.

This kid never surprises me. She’s so smart and articulate. A beautiful soul that loves daringly and cares deeply. After we ordered our dinner, I asked her what has been on her mind. I asked her what she was scared of and what bothered her. Usually, I have to drag it out of her, but she was open from the get go. She is afraid that my wife and I are going to get a divorce. Things have been tough recently, but we are working diligently to make everything work and keep this family together. What she said next, I wasn’t prepared for. She told me she was scared that because of my health problems (knee, back, weight) that I was going to die soon. This was like a shotgun blast to the chest and it totally caught me off guard.

All of a sudden, I’m realizing that maybe I’m not being the best dad I can be. I’m not making my health a priority. The drinking and late nights out have caught up with me. My health has deteriorated in the last two years. I’ve gained a devastating amount of weight. I was going to be dead by 40 if I didn’t start making the necessary changes now. If not for myself, then for my daughters.

After assuring my daughter that I was already taking steps to get healthier and that I wasn’t going anywhere for a very long time, we were able to have some laughs and enjoy our meal.

On the way home we stopped at the grocery store for a couple of quick items and then hurry home to hear about everyone else’s evening. Back in the car, I asked Mo if she was interested in eating healthier with me, which meant getting rid of all processed foods and snacks, like chicken nuggets, corn dogs (her favorite), chips, and sweets. She said “will that help you get healthy and keep you here with me?” I told her it would. She responded, “then of course I will, daddy. Those things are all wants, not needs. And I NEED you.” Talk about an amazing kid.

She brought tears to my eyes. And not just because of how sad it made me feel that she was carrying all of this in her heart, but because of how incredibly proud I am of her and how much she cares for others. Her intellect and understanding are far greater than that of most adults I know. Now, I just fear that this world will ruin her. It’s a cruel place full of cold-hearted and mean people. I will do my best to encourage her to always stay focused, keep being brave and courageous, and to never let anyone attempt to steal her light.

As adults, it is our responsibility to protect our kids, develop their brains, and prepare them for adulthood. I’m quickly learning that if you pay close attention, it’s our children that teach us far more than we deserve.

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