It is Tuesday night and I should be sitting in a camp chair watching soccer, but I'm in the ER. Again. Of all the kids, I was fairly certain that the boy would be the one who would land here on a fairly regular basis. He jumps off of everything and runs with sticks a bit too much for my taste. But no, it is S instead. Twice in three months. TWICE! The hub felt that she needed to be seen after a high schooler powered a goal kick right into her ear. Walking like a drunk and grabbing at her ear in agony seemed abnormal to him. Apparently 9 out of 10 doctors agree. So, we called the aunt and uncle, replaced her cleats with Crocs and headed on down to Children's Hospital. Apparently the plague is alive and well in Knoxville because, upon entering the ER, we felt like we were walking into a real life "Outbreak" situation minus the monkeys but add the sea of face masks. Doing our best to hold our breath as we walked through the illness, we quickly realized that one of us would have to eventually breathe. Lightheaded parents are not good guardians of children with head injuries. File that tidbit away for future visits. We were sent quickly to the safe haven of the cuts, bruises, breaks and gashes in the "Injury Waiting Room". Apparently one wall of glass and ten feet are enough to separate us from the plague. Germs' attempts to permeate the open doorway of said waiting room are futile...at least that is what I say in my happy place of denial.
The doctor, who was nice but looked nothing like George Clooney, said that her ear was in tact but that the nerves were traumatized and needed time to regroup and forgive her for their upset. She also said that her brain got some good jiggling and juggling, enough for a nice concussion. Because she was pretty puny they gave her a dose of Zofran and, armed with a cup of blue Gatorade, was sent back to the waiting room to see if she would be able to keep it down. As a parent I have always wondered, if you are concerned about vomiting, why give brightly colored beverages to kids with bad aim? I think the pharmaceutical industry is missing out on a great partnership with the beverage companies. Glaxo-Smith Klein presents "Gatorade Clear" or "Mom's Laundry Friendly Puke Juice". You get the picture. After a few suspicious gurgles and some spitting into the pinkish plastic kidney dish, the doc determined her tummy was sound enough for the trip home.
The interesting part will come tomorrow when she wakes up. Will she be pain free enough to take her TCAPS? Our sweet doc gave her an out and also prohibited her from playing soccer and running track for the next week. The world apparently will get sucked into a black hole in the universe if a child does not take it on the appropriate day. S will spiral into a world of worry if she has to take a make up test. We can only hope Mr. Motrin and Ms. Zofran will make that testing possible. Either way, she'll have a story to share with the World Cup players on the upper grade playground...when she can rejoin play in a week. Right now, we'll just work on walking in a straight line.
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