I opened a can I'm not sure I was ready to open. But it's opened so here goes--Caroline's traumas are really a trilogy and since I started I feel pulled to finish the story. So here's part two.
November 2000 my nephew was to be baptized in Philadelphia. Chris was in grad school and I wasn't working, so finances were a bit tight. We decided to divide and conquer. He would stay home with the "big kids" (ages just turned 5 and 3), and I would take the "babies" with me (4 and 21 months old). It seemed a perfect plan and was a wonderful weekend until....
Late Sunday afternoon Dritte, my little brother, drove my sister, my parents, me and the babies back to the airport. We all had different flights but around the same times. We said our goodbyes and I started towards my gate pushing the double stroller with William's car seat propped on the top while balancing the over sized diaper bag and my purse. Caroline was getting pretty squirrley as she was hungry; my plan was to nurse her on take off.
I arrived at the gate and approached the desk. I could both see and feel people staring at me and I'm fairly certain they were all hoping they didn't have a seat near me. As I got to the desk to check in the attendant said, "I'm really sorry but we're overbooked and have had to bump you from this flight." Are you kidding me?!?!?! Who bumps a woman flying alone with two children under 2? "But," he continued, "We can get you to Chicago tonight and put you up in a hotel and fly you to Atlanta in the morning." I didn't say it, but I thought, "Why would I want to fly to Chicago by myself with two small children you moron?" Instead I said, "I'll just stay here for the night. Can you get me on a flight in the morning?" I suspected that Dritte was not going to be thrilled to have unexpected guests for another night he's more of a neurotic planner than I am, but I couldn't worry about that right then. Caroline's squirrliness was turning into full blown screams. We were re-booked, I called my brother to come back and get us--to his credit he was very sweet. I then called my parents to tell them what happened. Mama could hear Caroline screaming through the phone, or perhaps through the airport, it was that loud, so she said she'd meet me to help get to the car.
Mama got Caroline out of the stroller; I continued to push the stroller with one hand as I called Chris to let him know what was happening. "Just let me know he said. We're going to the Balls' for dinner." Mama was in front of me and suddenly I saw her slip. As she was slipping she threw Caroline into the air; it was slow motion as I watched Caroline arc up and then down. She landed on her head. There was a loud echo and then complete silence.
I dropped the phone in the stroller and raced the 15 feet to scoop Caroline up off the floor. I saw a man sitting at a table a few feet away and shouted, "help that woman." There was no blood, but Caroline wasn't making a sound. I saw my sister approaching and I screamed, "Where's Daddy?" "Down the escalator" she directed, "I'll get William." I took off running. As I raced towards the escalator Caroline began to cry. I reached the top of the steep escalator and saw Daddy at the bottom talking to a security guard. "Daddy!" I shrieked. He looked up and I suppose saw terror on my face; he definitely heard Caroline. He turned to the security guard and said, "I think we're going to need an ambulance."
I reached Daddy and he took Caroline into his arms as I breathlessly explained, "Mama dropped her. She landed on her head; she didn't cry. She went silent." "Well she's crying now," Daddy calmly said as he felt along her head, "That's a good sign." He continued to rub his hand over the back of her head and I could see his lips moving. I know now that he was counting the number of fractures that he could feel. Meredith arrived with William and the stroller just as the EMT's arrived. Wild Willie as he was known around Athens was unusually quiet. He climbed out of his stroller, stood beside me with eyes wide open, and silently held my hand. Daddy began explaining to the EMT's that he was a pediatrician and he suspected multiple skull fractures. He told them to take us to Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. As they strapped me onto the stretcher holding my precious baby Daddy began to quietly explain to me what was probably going to happen. "Listen carefully," he said, "This is the type of injury that occurs with child abuse. They will most likely separate you when you get there and question you. Don't worry--I will be right behind you." I was trying to focus on what he was saying but William was beginning to panic and would not let go of me. He was desperately trying to climb onto the stretcher with me. My sister Meredith was attempting to convince him that he could ride with her and Pop, but he was having none of it. One of the EMT's said to the other, "Grab the car seat and put him in the back with ya'll." "We're not allowed to do that," replied the driver. "Screw the rules--oh sorry m'am--forget the rules. We've got to get this child to the hospital." And so we were all loaded and off we went full lights and sirens.
As we made our way towards the hospital I prayed like I had never prayed in my whole life. I asked God to please not take this child from us. She was our miracle baby--a 1% chance of being conceived--and she had brought so much joy to all of us. From the moment she was born we knew there was something special about her. She lit up a room. "please God," I prayed, "I wanted this child so badly; you gave her to me, please don't take her. Please don't make me have to call Chris and tell him we've lost a child." I couldn't bear to think about how I would make that phone call. Every time she stopped crying however briefly, I stopped breathing.
As we arrived at the hospital and the doors opened I immediately knew my father was right. There were doctors and nurses and one very official looking woman with a clipboard. As they were pulling me out of the ambulance she said, "I'm going to need you to follow me when you get off the stretcher. I have a few questions." One of the nurses asked me what the baby's name was. I have no idea what possessed me to answer with her full name, but I said, "Caroline Kanto Doyle" Suddenly one of the doctors abruptly turned around. "Did you say Kanto?" he asked, "As in Dr. Bill Kanto?" "Yes," I responded, "he's my father; he's on his way. We were all at the airport. My mother dropped her." Tears began streaming down my face. The man's eyes softened as he patted my arm turned to the woman and said, "We're not going to need you. Dr. Kanto trained me. I'm sure everything is fine. We'll let you know."
Daddy appeared just as they were whisking us to x-ray; he shook the doctor's hand and took William from me. After x-rays we were put in a room where Meredith, Dritte, and Mama were waiting. Meredith took William and said, "Let's go get lots of candy." (She is still his favorite aunt to this day and she still spoils him rotten.) Mama kept trying to apologize to me and explain what happened. She kept saying, "It wasn't my fault." I knew it wasn't her fault; I knew it was an accident, but I couldn't focus on that just then. I still believed there was a good chance my child was going to die, and I needed all my emotional strength to hold myself together. "Dritte," I pleaded, "Please get her out of here." And he did. Daddy, Caroline, and I were left waiting--it wasn't long before the doctor asked Daddy to step into the hall. I could see them through the door way pointing and counting and I saw my father step away and wipe tears from his eyes. He regained his composure and the two of them re entered the room. They explained to me there were between 5 and 7 fractures a couple close to blood vessels and arteries. They said she needed a CAT scan immediately and if it was what they suspected she would be taken directly from there to the OR. I needed to sign consent forms. Daddy said, "They're going to let me put on scrubs. I'll go with her to the CAT scan and I'll be in the operating room. She'll never be alone. But Katherine Mouse, you need to call Chris and tell him he needs to be prepared to get here. When.." and he caught himself, "If we take her into surgery we'll send someone to tell you and Chris needs to get on a plane. Kiss your baby and we have to go now." He lovingly reached for her. To this day letting him take her from my arms is the hardest thing I've ever done. I kissed her forehead and prayed this wouldn't be the last time I held her.
They showed me to a waiting room and I dialed our home number. My very dear friend and Caroline's godmother Gillian answered. I told her I needed to talk to Chris. "What's going on?" she asked. I briefly explained and repeated I needed to talk to Chris. "Leslie and I are here at your house right now. We're cleaning and scrubbing. You should see Leslie with a sponge." In an instant it hit me, she was stalling and why was she at my house cleaning? "Gillian, what's going on?" "Weeeeelllll," she started, "When you first called Chris called me to tell me they weren't coming to dinner and what happened so I came and got the children so he could focus on you. We were playing and there was just a little accident--it's not serious." "What happened?" I asked as I begin to panic. "It's really going to be fine," she assured me, "Sarah Katherine fell off the slide and cut her head kind of close to her eye. I think she's going to need a couple of stitches." I immediately hung up and called Chris on his cell. He answered and before he could say anything I said, "Get a plastic surgeon to sew her up!" "Too late," he answered, "Now what's going on there?" I filled him in and he said that he would get home and get packed. As I hung up the phone I saw my father heading towards me and smiling with Caroline in his arms. A nurse was scrambling to keep up pushing the IV pole. "It is truly a miracle," Daddy said, "The fractures are all around the vessels but they've missed it. Surgery is not needed." I burst into tears as I gathered a very drugged Caroline into my arms, "Oh thank you God," I said over and over. Daddy explained they were going to put us in the ICU for observation for 24 hours and if all went as they expected we would be discharged the next day. Daddy's former student was standing in the background waiting to say goodbye. "I don't know how to thank you" I said. "It wasn't me, it truly was Divine. God bless you and your family. It was good to see you again Dr. Kanto." Daddy turned to the man, tears streamed down his face as he said, "Bill--call me Bill; you took care of my grandchild. I'm just Bill." The two men embraced and he left.
Meredith returned with William; Dritte returned with Mama and it was decided that Daddy and Meredith would try to get the last flights out. Dritte would take Mama and William back to his house. William was clutching a bag of candy and Meredith told him he could have it all to himself if he went with Uncle Dritte and Babah. (God bless them for dealing with a 21 month old full of sugar!) They took us up to the ICU and I climbed into bed with Caroline. I asked for a phone and I called Christy my prayer warrior. I didn't even realize I was calling another mother of 4 children at 11:30 at night and she never said a word. She listened to me and let me process and she prayed a prayer of thanksgiving for us and as only someone as sweet and kind as she is could do, she also asked God to bless and be with all those parents who were not leaving the hospital with their children in their arms. After we hung up, I laid in the bed with Caroline and cried. As her drugs wore off, Caroline became playful; I was exhausted, my whole body ached. The nurse sitting beside the bed looked at me and said, "I'm not supposed to do this, but let me take the baby. I'll walk the halls with her so you can get some sleep. I've heard it's been quite a day for you."
The following morning we were discharged. Mama, William, Caroline and I headed to the airport where we were given first class seats. Caroline's head was three times it's normal size and completely bruised, but she was alive and we were going home.
Chris and the big kids met us at the Atlanta airport. Sarah Katherine had a bandage over her stitches, Caroline looked quite odd, the boys were rumpled messes, but we were all together. Chris and I circled our arms around each other and all four children. I felt complete peace, happiness, and gratitude. As we stepped apart Sarah Katherine looked closely at Caroline's head. "She looks funny," she said, "but I got stitches."
We arrived back in Athens to balloons and signs in the yard and a piping hot dinner in our oven. We felt so blessed to have the friends and neighbors that surrounded us during that time. There have only been a few lingering effects from the weekend; Sarah Katherine has a slight scar by her eye; I spent months trying to convince the insurance company that it was indeed possible to have two hospital bills in two different states at exactly the same time; and Caroline now responds, "well I was dropped on my head" whenever I wonder why she does some of the crazy things she does.
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