On March 31, 2000 a car hit my daughter, who was four at the time. My other two children, ages 7 and 5, and I witnessed it. It was the worst feeling that I have ever experienced in my life. I felt helpless, scared, and like I had no control. As the car passed, I ran over and picked up her limp body, covered with blood, and carried her out of the roadway. I screamed for anyone and everyone to call 911. After what seemed to be an eternity, the police finally arrived, followed by an ambulance a while later. The EMT advised me that she was so bad, that she needed to be flown to the nearest trauma hospital. I knew in my heart that she was bad off, yet I did not want to accept it. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I followed the ambulance to the local hospital, where they prepared her for the flight.
My husband, whom someone had called, met me at the hospital, and we drove to the trauma hospital, as Courtney was transported by helicopter. She arrived there awhile before we did, and they had been able to access her condition. She was critical. The admitting doctor came out and talked to us. She told us that Courtney had been put on life support. I collapsed with horror, but she advised me that she was breathing on her own and that the life support system was only for keeping her body at rest and conserving energy, while the rest of her healed. We sat there very nervously, waiting for the neurologist to come and talk to us then. To our surprise, they had sent the hospital clergyman to see us first. This was a nightmare. I felt in my heart that my daughter was going to die. Why else would they send a religious figure to comfort us? He explained that it was a hospital policy for the clergyman to visit the family of anyone of such a severe injury, not that it made me feel any better. After another eternity, the neurologist finally came out to consult with us. He explained that she had received a closed head trauma, and that she had experienced much swelling of the brain. If the swelling did not go down, or if she incurred anymore swelling, she would not live due to the skull not being able to do anything with all of the fluid that the injury was producing. The pressure would be too much trauma on the brain. The next 72 hours were to be critical.
We waited, slept in the PICU lounge, and prayed during that time. We were allowed to go and see her during the scheduled visiting periods. The first time that I was allowed to see her, she looked like a corpse. She was pale, and stiff looking, and gave the absolute appearance of being lifeless. They had put her on morphine for pain, and to help her rest to heal, and also she was in a semi-coma. The 72 hours finally passed, which gave us hope. She had made it through the critical period. A few days later, the physicians attempted to remove her from the life support system, but she had lost so much potassium, that when they started to remove it, she had a seizure. They left her on it, and started an IV of potassium. The cause of this was the pituitary gland, which regulates the body's potassium, had been damaged. About a week later, that was under control, and she could be finally removed from the breathing system. They had weaned her off of the morphine during that period, and she was finally coming too and waking up. She was paralyzed on her left side, unable to speak, and had absolutely no control of her body. She spent a few more days in that hospital, and then she was transferred to a rehabilitation center, at another nearby hospital, where she would stay for another 2 months.
At the rehabilitation center, she met with a group of therapist, who worked with her everyday. Within one month of her stay there, she had regained speech. She was still confined to her tiny wheelchair, and had no body control. The therapist kept working with her and within another month, she had regained her ability to walk, and control her body. She was eating whole food again. Everything seemed to be returning to normal, yet we still had a hurl to cross.
Her personality had changed tremendously. She was violent, using foul language, and was absolutely wild. I think that this was the hardest thing in this whole ordeal to understand. Why was my baby acting like this? The staff at the hospital explained it as everyone who suffers a head trauma goes through this. It is a period of adjustment. The victim is trying to adjust to not being able to do the things that they once could. They are trying to understand what has happened to them. They even had a scale of the stages of this condition. They had noted the several stages and about how long each stage would last. Fortunately, hers did not last very long. That was what was keeping her at the hospital for so long. The doctor felt that my daughter did not have good enough judgment to be released yet. She was still sensitive to stimulation, and anything could set her off. If she was out in public, and there was a crowd, a lot of noise, or any stimulants, she would just go wild. Finally, she reached a point to where the doctor felt that it was safe for her to leave. When we got her home, things were still a little rough, but we made it through it.
She still showed bouts of rage. To this day, she can still make you think that she is the devil if she gets very upset. She is still weak on her left side and she does not do well on her schoolwork, but she is doing wonderful. She plays with other children, and does about anything that they are able to do. I am so glad that she lived. I have become so close to her. At her kindergarten graduation, I just sat there and cried, thinking of how I might not have been able to go to see her graduate. I could have had her taken away from me. Fortunately, I didn't.
The severe injury of a loved one, especially of any kind of brain damage, takes its toll on any family. It is mentally and physically exhausting. You think that no one else in the world knows what you are going through. It is a terrible experience, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Fortunately, we had lots of family, friends, and co-workers to support us and help us make it through. We couldn't have done it without them, but I owe the most gratitude to God. He kept her safe and with all of the prayers that were offered to Him, He pulled her through. He gave everyone who cared about Courtney the sanity and the courage to carry on, and the strength to take each day one day at a time through the terrible ordeal.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Kimberly is 33 years old, and lives in Tennessee in the United States. She has been married for ten years and has three beautiful children.
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