Head injury

I've just finished my first two-hour check on my oldest son Dylan. I can already tell you that it is going to be a very long night. I will check on him every two hours to make sure he is still moving in response to a slight touch. I already knew that it was going to be rough waking up every two hours, but frankly that one thing did nothing to calm my fears that this could be a skull fracture and we could be looking at much bigger issues than a big ugly goose egg on his head.

This afternoon, I took my boys and some friends to the local ice rink. We are planning to go out of town to see family this week and he is going to miss his regularly scheduled Thursday hockey practice. Typically, when you go to public skate, you don't wear a helmet as you do in hockey. Dylan is a pretty decent skater, and doesn't usually fall unless he is playing hockey. But, his hands got cold on the ice so he stuck them in his pockets and when he lost his balance practicing different moves on the ice, his head was the only thing to hit. I was probably 5 feet behind him and couldn't do anything to help him. He started crying immediately and when I got to him, his forehead was dented in right above his right eye. I'm no doctor, but I knew that your head isn't supposed to be caved in.

Everything snapped into focus and I knew he needed help. One of the girls that worked there came over and we got him off the ice. I asked her to go get the head of the hockey program and some ice while I carried Dylan to a table. I took off my outer sweater to make a pillow for his head, held his hand and asked him simple questions, held up two fingers, etc. It seemed like hours were passing and I wasn't sure how serious his injury was. And, where the hell is that ice?!! I felt extremely inept at helping my baby boy. So, I went and asked the girl that runs the sports shop to get us some ice. Finally the girl returned with a bag and we got the ice started to help reduce the swelling. The head of the program comes over and asks him some basic questions to check for a concussion.

After he had the ice on for almost 10 min, we sat him up. Thankfully, he didn't get dizzy or pass out. We sat with him for a bit more and began alternating the ice 10 on and 10 off. The head of the program suggested that we continue to watch him, that he seemed fine.

After we left, I thought I would call his pediatrician just to alert them to the situation. I had forgotten that they leave early on Tuesdays. Of course, they left early today! So, I'm directed to the on-call pediatrician. They instruct me to take him directly to the emergency room. By this time, we have made it back to the house, and Dylan still seems absolutely fine. I tell the pediatrician's office that my main concern is that his head was actually concave after the fall and that was what made me nervous, but that all of his symptoms point to him being fine. So the nurse checks with the doctor and he confirms - take him to the ER.

So, we all pile in to the car. At this point, my adrenaline rush comes crashing down and I start thinking why didn't I bring his helmet in? He would've worn it, no problem. Why didn't I bring his gloves in? He wouldn't have put his hands in his pockets. Why didn't I tell him to take his hands out of his freakin' pockets? It never occurred to me that he wouldn't be able to catch himself in a fall. What kind of an idiot mother am I? Then I start thinking, what if I lose my baby? I've read several articles where kids have head injuries, seem fine, and then die suddenly. At the time, I didn't remember that it was often due to a second impact and returning to sports too soon. Thankfully, before I work myself into a complete and utter panic attack, I force myself to stop thinking that way and focus on driving downtown in traffic, because there is ALWAYS traffic on I-35.

So, we go to Dell Children's ER. Everyone is very nice and helpful. We eventually get a room and the nurse comes in to check on him and ask some questions. He wants to know if Dylan is nauseous, has a headache, etc. So, he gets Dylan some Tylenol for his head. Hopefully, it wasn't a recalled one. He doesn't ask me if I'm about to toss my cookies, because I was. My stomach couldn't have been twisted any tighter if it was maypole.

After the doctor completes her examination, she recommends that we not get the CT Scan because of the radiation issue. She doesn't feel it is truly necessary. Since I had read a report on those issues and the fact that Dylan has already had one, as well as other X-rays, I'm not inclined to subject him to something that could lead to a brain tumor down the road. So, we opt for a night of checking on him every two hours. That decision seemed a lot better in the light of day, in a hospital room, with Dylan alert and responsive. Now that we're home and I have no idea what his simply moving in response to my touch is supposed to tell me? Yea, well, not so much.