Adam Update

Adam is the name of the young man who was injured in the car wreck last weekend. This is the update that was posted on his facebook page today

11/22/07 update:

Adam was put in a new bed that rotates him side to side. He has had a blood transufusion. His lungs seem to be responding well to the new bed. Hope everyone has a Happy Thanksgiving

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I took Light and her friend Flower to see him last night. He is still in Neural ICU, still comatose. When we got there shortly after 8:00 he was in the new bed, turning slowly left and right. I peeked in the room to make sure the girls had gotten there (I dropped them off at the door then parked the car). There is a limit of 2 visitors at a time, so I scooted to the waiting room.

Before I left, though, I looked toward Adam, but the bed was tilted away from the door. I could tell just from seeing his fingers that he is terribly swollen. I really didn't want to look any closer than that. I am afraid of what I'd see. Is that terrible of me? I am very concerned about him, very sympathetic towards his family. I'm not that close to Adam though. He's Light's friend, not mine. If I were a close friend of his, I'd have looked.

The family was not there at the time. I'd like to see them, to tell them of my support and sympathy. It'd probably be a good idea to send a card. I could do that.

Long distance mothering

…sucks.

I was just reading Cowbell's blog. Her latest post details her college age daughter being very sick and on the other side of the continent. That's hard on everyone.

But I bring it up because Light called us tonight. Crying. She asked if I'd gotten her email. I'd turned off the computer to take a nap earlier and hadn't gotten back online, so no, I'd not seen the email. Did I need to look at it now? Light? You still there? "..sniff, snuff, Just a minute… sniff." Superman had the computer and was guarding it jealously. Poor guy. He doesn't get much chance at the 'puter cause I bogart it so much. But I said to him "I need to check my email. Now."

"Now? You mean immediately? Can't it wait?"

"NOW. It is very important." And I go back to making soothing mommy noises into the phone. He gets the point.

One of Light's best friends was in a terrible car wreck early this morning. He is in neural intensive care with lots of broken stuff, including at least one place in his back, possibly two. Well, here's part of the email she sent me:

He is in the Neural Intensive Care Unit at ___________ Memorial. He has a broken bone in his neck, his lower spine is broken, he has internal bleeding, his kidney and spleen are badly bruised, he has cracked ribs, is not fully coherent, and is having much difficulty breathing. They have inserted an oxygen tube down his throat, but one lung is badly damaged and may possibly collapse. Right now he does not appear to have any paralyzation.

He will need several operations, however they are currently postponed until his lung shows signs of being able to withstand them.

She is obviously upset. I know this young man. His family lives around the corner from us in our subdivision. He's been to our home many times. I'm upset, too.

I am worried about his condition, of course. This might prove fatal. God I hope not. Though I don't really know his parents, I am concerned for them.

I am concerned for Light. This is her first experience with grief of this nature. No one close to her has ever been injured or killed or died or anything. Of course this is part of life, and she will encounter trouble like this off and on throughout her life. She needs to know how to handle it. That doesn't make it easier for her or for me and her dad.

I am a mother. Things like this happen and I immediately think "what if it happens to my child?" My stomach lurches, my head spins. Get a grip, mama. Breathe. Keep your head on straight. Guiltily, I am so very relieved it is her friend, not her lying in intensive care, coma induced by the doctors, fighting for life.

Light is a freshman at a college in state, only an hour and a half away. We can be there soon if we need to be. This is somewhat comforting. And I sympathize with Cowbell who cannot drive for an hour or so to take care of her very sick baby girl.

Parenting is joy. Parenting is grief. Parenting is hard.