I believe I was given a sedative at this point, probably noted as one of the most difficult children they ever had to help. I came in and out of consciousness through a few different procedures and a couple conversations. I became alert as they were placing tubes in my nose and down my throat which was awful. I was looking around and didn’t see my parents anywhere. I became combative as I heard them say tonight would be touch and go and was sedated again. Then when the chunk of cement stair was being removed from my knee.
I asked where my parents were, and the nurse responded telling me they went to grab clothes. I was in shock that they left. Why would they leave? Was I ok? What was going on? I was clueless to the extent of my injuries and or my condition. Why would they leave? And I was sedated again. I have so many chunky memories of those first 12 hours. So, pardon the lack of detail.
The next day I woke up in a hospital room with all the tubes still going throughout my body, more IV’s then I wanted to count, stitches in my knee and a face that looked like it met a wall. I was very groggy as they were pumping me with medication. My parents, my sister Marsie and her husband were there and I had a ton of questions. They began to ask how I was feeling, and my response was nothing short of being hit by a mac truck.
The sugar-coated details started to flow all mumbled and mixed with tears from my mother, Dale told her to calm down and go sit and relax, stating that I was ok, I was strong, and I would be fine. I just stared at him to see if I could read his face through his words. He looked back at me with his glossed over tear-filled eyes and he said, “Kid don’t ever scare me like that again.”
I immediately grasped on to the word again as I remember hearing the nurse and doctors say that I was touch and go, then I thought to myself “like I did this on purpose”. I noticed I was in ICU. I needed answers. Dale began to tell me that I was going to have a road of recovery ahead of me, but we would get through it. My liver was punctured in 2 places and so were my lungs. I had a lot of internal bleeding and possibly would need a blood transfusion.
Doctors came in to check on me and I asked them what would happen next? They explained that I would be monitored and that we were not out of the woods yet. They said that because I was young, they were not going to do surgery because they believed my organs would heal themselves. Internal bleeding was my biggest nightmare for the days to follow.
Hearing that I was stable was such a relief and very emotional to process. I had so many feelings about the whole situation and my mother was an emotional mess which was not helping. I was so scared that I would miss my 8th-grade graduation which was right around the corner. My mother told me that my school had a moment of silence for me because nobody thought I was going to make it.
Days following my fall I had many visitors, flowers, and calls. All my teachers came to see me, we snuck my best friend Megan in and said she was my cousin so that she could stay with me. I was slowly healing and was finally stable enough to move out of ICU.
I was sent home within the week to follow. The Dr. gave a strict instruction that I could go to my 8th-grade graduation but I was to be on partial bed rest for the next 2 months, I could not do anything active or anything for long periods of time. He sent me home with a book of pain medications and follow up appointments.
I remember getting in the car and Dale asking me how excited I was to be going home, sleeping in my own bed and being able to have friends over. I could not contain myself, I started to cry uncontrollably. Dale jerked the car to the side of the road and swiftly turned around asking what hurt, what was wrong? I told him nothing hurt but my life was never going to be the same. I was not going to be able to do the things I loved anymore, I was bound to the house for the summer and the list went on.
Dale was telling me I had survived the worst of it and the rest would be a walk in the park. I wanted to believe him. I was just so wrapped up in the emotions which I thought I had experienced most of in the hospital but more came after the pain med subsided. I felt like this was going to be more of an emotional recovery than physical.
Days turned to weeks and weeks to months. My mother filled the prescriptions and I never took medication so I’m sure she was having a field day with them. She checked out after a couple days of me being home. She lost or quit her job of 8+ years, she was going to group therapy. She was not processing the situation properly or just found a new excuse. I’m not sure but either way she was not present.
I was spending more time at Marsie’s house because my mother was going through her crisis and not around and Dale was working all day and I couldn’t be alone. We had quite a few attorney meetings following the fall. It seemed like it was all about money.
I know that is how it goes but as a child, I was more concerned by the fact that the landlord didn’t care that I fell and that money was more important all the way around. It was more important to my parents to get as much money as possible and to the landlord to keep as much as he possibly could.
The landlord threatened to claim bankruptcy on all his businesses and scared my parents into settling. Part of the settlement was that my mother would have to sign off on my liver. She had to sign saying that she could never go after the landlord again even if I had future complications. I sat back and watched how quickly that was pacified and signed off on.
Months later my mother got a check for $80,000. We went and got some new furniture and I am sure some went to bills and things we may have needed. My mother went and bought a new set of boobs as well. However, I believe that there was a local drug dealer who was about 45 or 50 thousand dollars richer.